Day 3 The Final Chapter With the dawn of the new day I had regained my appetitive and spent more time at the breakfast table than Red who excused himself citing some important business in the tent. I grabbed a second helping of breakfast before setting off to our tent nestled between the Macadamia trees. I zipped open the tent flap and was confronted with the a sight that no man should face this early in the morning. Red was lying on his back with no pants on with his knees behind his ears, his rusty starfish was in in full bloom, not a pretty sight! In his right hand he had a small bottle of methylate which he was trying to apply to some saddle sores, my opening of the tent startled him and he squeezed the bottle. His brown eye got pinkeye and clearly it was burning like hell and he need some relief. "Water" he cried as his eyes settled on my camel back which I had filled the night before. We grabbed it at the same time, there was no way I was going to let the valve of my camel back anywhere near Red's valve. A tug of war ensued and it was only when I pulled Red out of the tent that he let go, I think the fear of indecent exposure had trumped his discomfort. I had a half bottle of flavoured sparkling water lying outside the tent which I gave to Red before zipping up the tent. The noises emanating from inside the tent at first sounded like Red was being massacred on the massage table but it slowly changed to sounds of relief and then giggles of delight. " Hey, Blue the bubbles make it tingle, come and try it" I was having none of it, my mind was permanently scarred by the vision of his rusty starfish turning to pinkeye and disappeared to collect our bikes from the pound. What a difference a day makes, at yesterday's start line I was doubting whether I would make the first water point let alone finish the toughest day on the Sani. Yet here I was lined up at the start of the third stage feeling like a new man thanks to two helpings of Jolivet steaks. Red was back to his competitive self, "Blue we have to beat our neighbours even if it is just on to day's stage". What surprised both of us is, that despite my off day they only finished 11 minutes ahead of us. We surmised that they found the wet technical riding difficult and although no rain was expected during today's stage the track was still wet from yesterday's rain. We knew that the route had been changed from the previous year's and hopefully if it was a bit more technical we had every chance of beating them. The chatter in our batch was dominated by two topics namely the decision to start A and B batches two hours after the last batch which meant that the entire field would be finished at around 13h00. Everyone was trying to work out whether we could beat the top teams to the finish. But the big discussion was the 400m long floating bridge across the lagoon at the finish. It was a world first and no one had any idea what it was like or how to ride it, some in our batch got information from friends riding in the Trail and Adventure. Rumour had it that it was highly unstable exacerbated by the incoming waves. There was a chicken run across the beach and many had decided on this option, but Red and I were determined to ride it after all we were going to swim in the sea anyway so no harm if we did so a bit earlier. The first few kilometers of this day is quick as you descend through the cane fields but at the first climb it became very apparent that I was fooling myself at the start, and although I was feeling considerably better there was no strength in my legs. Red was having none of it, he was going like the clappers in pursuit of our neighbours I was barely hanging in there. At the first water point Red and I had serious negotiation about revising our tactics, I could sense Red's frustration but he realised that there was little we could do on the climbs but I was given license to hammer the downhills. The descents on this stage are relatively nontechnical in nature with only the odd sharp turn at the bottom to test your skills. Th exception to this was the descent at Vernon Crookes nature reserve which is fast, twisty and rocky in places but today it was wet as well from the previous day's rain. We were so far back in the field that the speed on this descent had slowed to about 20km/h and my trying to pass them at twice that created some interesting moments but no harm done other than a few choice words from the other riders. We were making steady but slow progress and the next bit of excitement was when farmer Glen's chopper landed next to us in an open field and he had a chat with us about the impending arrival of the leaders. " Don't worry about stopping on the jeep track just keep left and the guys will pass you on the right" he said. He had hardly taken off when we heard the lead motorcycle and shortly after that Evans and Combrink passed us. Now when Red and I ride up hill you hear something akin to a pair of rattling locomotives, it's a collection of puffs, hisses and grinding gears. All you could hear from these guys was a whirring sound and a polite " Thanks guys". It reminded me of a movie I once saw something about magnificent men in their flying machines, sheer poetry. It took about 10 minutes for the bunch with the GC leaders to pass us and once again a polite " Dankie manne" and they were off. The next bunch of 6 riders were not so polite they passed us as we crested a rise and about to start the descent we were well left with more than enough room for them to pass us two abreast. "You are supposed to stop and get off the track to let us pass, a$$holes!" shouted the leader. Clearly, these guys were not privy to the personal instructions that we had received from Farmer Glen and I guess we would normally have let it go. But Red was rather sensitive this morning particularly the part of his nether regions this chap referred to. "Blue Bomber this is Red Tail, you have permission to engage the bandit" this brought a huge grin to my face, for two reasons I mean Red Tail, Red Tail how apt after his exploits in the tent earlier and I could let the mad cow loose. I immediately set off after the bandit, now I think this guy was hoping to break away from the bunch so his first backward glance was to check whether his partner was following. When he saw it was me and the bunch were some 10m behind, the look in his eyes changed from interest to glimpses of fear. He thinks I going to hit him! My grin got bigger, and then he decided to really give it his all. My grin got even bigger, I was going to dice with a racing snake on a downhill! It did not take long for him to run out of gears with his 1 x 11 set up, my 44t front blade and 30kg weight advantage put paid to any escape. His furtive backward glances was starting to worry me, he really needs to concentrate on the track ahead so I pedalled past him and said "Don't fret my little petal, I just want to tell you something". He tried once more to get away but realised that 60km/h was about the limit of his gearing and I had plenty to spare, he stopped pedalling, resigned to his fate and then I explained that although he was quite correct to expect us to stop, Farmer had changed the rules. " Sorry Oom I didn't know that" I accepted the apology and then set off to see if I could top 75km/h. When his mates passed me on the uphill they wanted details of our encounter and whether I beat him on the descent. They had every intent of giving him a hard time all the way to Scottburgh about being beaten by an Oom. The ride from there to floating bridge was slow but the excitement was building for this new obstacle. I think most of A batch had passed us when Red rode onto the bridge when I heard a yell form behind "Traaack!" before I could do or say anything I was shouldered aside by two A batch riders who mounted the bridge sandwiched between Red and myself. This made absolutely no sense to me after all how were they going to pass Red on the bridge. Nonetheless a bit miffed at the treatment dealt to me I set off in pursuit. Any idea I may have had of catching the offenders in front of me quickly disappeared as it became clear that this bridge needed a huge amount of concentration, it was like trying to ride on top of a moving hosepipe. The only thing you could do was keep going as momentum was crucial, I got the speed up as high as possible trying to keep to the middle. This thing was moving all the time the waves and the bikes making it totally unpredictable, you could only look 5 - 6 meters in front of you. I was coping quite well when suddenly the A batch riders stopped dead in front of me I had no option other to career into the back of them, idiots. My front wheel slipped off the bridge into the water, I had resigned myself to the inevitable swim and a possible slot on the highlights package, when I realised that my front wheel had found the sand, it was shallow and my back wheel was still on the bridge, I was still upright. It took a second to get back on and now I was really miffed and I was going to give these guys a piece of my mind. Cheered on by the spectators above me on the railway bridge I quickly caught them as they tried to inch their way across, uncleated they were putting a foot down with regular monotony to stabilise themselves. This was not working and we had just reached the section where the bridge was encountering the worst of the incoming waves. "Ride, boys! You have to ride it!" I shouted. To be fair they tried but I could see by the tension in their shoulders they were not happy with this. At this stage I had the thing waxed but the posture on the front rider was getting worse, he was trying to make himself as narrow as possible. His elbows were tucked in, his shoulders hunched and he was trying to wind his neck in, a posture that could best be described as turtle necking. A big wave did it, the front rider went off on the right and his partner left to the cheers of the railway crowd, I had a fan club! "Thanks for the track boys" and I sped away to catch Red who was 100meters ahead. In the melee of collecting our lunch and boxes I met up with Red's granny. They had finished ahead of us and I asked about their day in the saddle. She did not enjoy the newly cut and bumpy single track "Since my hip replacement I find that it takes me at least 3 to 4 hours warm up, but I learnt after the third day on the Freedom Challenge that it goes away, so I'm rather sad that there isn't a fourth day" she said. Whaaat! Freedom Challenge? Hip replacement? We never stood a chance! So be careful out there, you never know who is in the tent next to you it could be a racing snake with brand new hips or someone with pinkeye!
