Absa Cape Epic 2014 Stage 5 – the queen

While Tuesday’s 134k was a long enough day, today was undoubtedly the queen stage of the 2014 Absa Cape Epic. And it contained some classic Epic ingredients: the remote Groenlandberg climb and the formidable “Rusty Gate”; 115k; heat (although mercifully not the full oven treatment) and sunshine; more great mountain views.

On a tough stage like this, you really know whether your legs are working. Here are some pointers…

Good day: you don’t really look at the km count, until suddenly you look down and you’ve done 100. Bad day: you look down and only 0.2km have passed since the last time you looked. And you’re still less than a third of the way through the stage.

Good day: you barely stop at the water points apart from maybe a cup of Coke and some chain lube, and you crank it out of the saddle away from the stop because it feels as if you’ve wasted time. Bad day: you can’t wait for the feed stations because you get a chance to stop, take a breather, drink a few cups of various things, because you’ve been struggling to force yourself to drink from your bidons while riding; ditto cake / Marmite sandwiches / dates / potatoes / jelly babies / salty rice cakes, because you can’t face another gel or bar. And you reluctantly pedal away, dreading the 30km to the next stop.

Good day: you look forward to the climbs, because it’s a chance to put time into other people. Bad day: your heart sinks at the sight of a loose gravel track rearing up ahead of you.

Good day: you’re into the start chute at the front of the pen, having been sufficiently organised to get your kit and bottles ready the night before, gone to breakfast early, fettled your bike, packed your bag and put it by the truck ready for the transport to the next race village. Bad day: you trail into the chute behind the masses with 10 minutes to go before the start, kit barely properly on, not having turned your tracker on or put your jersey number on, and using the few minutes before the start gun to make sure that your bike still actually works.

Good day: you might make a few puffing noises on a tough climb, or let the odd grunt escape as you power over a rocky step-up. Bad day: the dominant noises are sighs at the sight of the rest of the stage profile, a whimper as you’re defeated by a loose sandy climb, or a curse as your team-mate’s wheel pulls remorselessly a few feet away from you.

Good day: the teams you’re riding with look like you would like to look: shaved legs, pretty lean, nothing on their backs, legs turning smoothly, and they rarely hold you up on the singletrack. Bad day: the people you’re being passed by have Camelbaks, hairy legs, compression socks, little ability to get down a singletrack descent, and a disconcerting wonky knee.

Good day: you actually see the leading ladies / grand masters during the stage; and maybe the ladies use a draft on a road section. Bad day: you’re pleased to see the seventh-placed grand masters as you finally manage to get the pedals turning by hour six.

The front of the race

In the women’s event, yesterday’s winners, RECM, consolidated their lead further with a very strong ride, good enough for top 20 overall today, and gaining another 14 minutes over Meerendal’s Suss / Bigham.

In the men’s race, yet another new stage winner – Team Torpado (Paulissen / Chiarini), only seconds ahead of Schurter and Buys of Scott-Odlo Racing. But no change in the jerseys – Topeak-Ergon still have them, now almost 10 minutes ahead of Sauser and Rabon.

And again there were drop-outs – today, Prologue winner Rudi van Houts of Merida-Multivan with a knee problem, leaving Jose Hermida to soldier on alone.

Team Open-Rotor-Asterion’s race

If yesterday was the day with the best stage course, today was the day with the best legs; a day when (almost) everything went right.

Already early on there were highlights. After a double macchiato before the start, getting into the start chute early, being taped up (knee and now back too) by team physio Alta Marie, we hit the afterburners coming out of the start, to ensure we were well placed in the bunch for the fast early dirt roads. And it paid dividends. On a rolling climb a few km in, we saw the elastic to the lead bunch stretch and snap, leaving us in no-man’s-land off the front of the second bunch. But what should we hear a few moments later but “hop on”, said in a Spanish accent. Lo and behold, it was everyone’s favourite ex-world champ / stand-up comedian, Jose Hermida, having unfortunately lost his team-mate early on but still able to have fun on the bike. For reasons only known to himself, he made himself our personal derny for the next 5-10km. I think he was judging the tempo by the volume of gasping coming from me on his wheel, but however he did it was very effective – the smoothest wheel I’ve ever sat on. And he treated us to a bit of genuine “foot out flat out” cornering on a fast gravel turn.

For amateur riders like us, the chance to ride with (I hesitate to say “against” given that their competition is on a different level to us) the top riders in the world is one of the real privileges of this race. It never lasts long, normally not beyond the first couple of rises after the start, but being in the bunch with these guys is amazing. I was a bit less on the ball, but Jeff also managed, with some nifty overtaking, to find himself on the second row in the bunch a few km in, chatting to Nino Schurter about the relative bike weights of his Scott and our Opens (off the shelf the Open wins, but I suspect Nino might have a “special” version…).

After these early joys, reality set in, and some punchy climbs ensued – the longest climb in the race, Rusty Gate, and the sting in the tail, Groenlandberg. But finally my legs properly arrived at the party, and heart rates which weren’t achievable on Tuesday at all were suddenly sustainable for hours at a time. I think Jeff was suffering a bit after spent all that time pushing or pulling me on Tuesday and Wednesday, but overall we were well matched and going hard.

The only blip of the day was, annoyingly, both my own fault and avoidable. I sustained a rear puncture towards the end of Tuesday’s grim stage. At the time we put a tube in and finished, but I later patched it. Unfortunately that came loose again on Wednesday, and this time we plugged it trailside, which seemed to hold well. But it turns out those plugs can’t really hold for successive days at the Epic, so it came loose, losing us about five minutes and three places, only one of which we were able to re-take. Although it turns out that Angry Jeff is pretty fast! Having suffered on the Rusty Gate climb, he smashed up Groenlandberg, putting me well and truly in the box. Serves me right.

The stage finished with the flowing singletrack into Oak Valley (remember this from 2011? http://marathonm.wpengine.com/2011/04/01/stage-5-man-down/), and a best-so-far 22^nd place in Men, 29^th overall.