Day 1 Recovery After handing our bikes in for a clean and service, collecting our boxes, finding our tent (quite easy just follow your race number), unpacking and having a shower. Red and I were sitting outside our tent when our neighbors arrived, a women's team. We introduced ourselves and soon found out that they were a mom and daughter team Sani novices to boot! Here was my chance to impart my vast knowledge of one Sani plus a stage on them, but first we had to find out how their stage went. It soon became clear that they were slightly quicker than us on the day and I could hardly offer advice to a rider that's beating me so I needed to find an excuse for our time. I tried my age but the mom, Joan, was 10 years older than me at 64, I tried the Spondy hoping that she wouldn't have a clue, turns out that she is a retired medical doctor and not only knows about Spondy but also suffered from it for the last 15 years. It was clear I was not going to win this one and I decided to make a tactical withdrawal. Red got the sulks because we were having our butts kicked by a granny, now you have to understand Red is my junior by 10 years and his ego was not going to survive being beaten by some 20 years his senior, so we started planning to beat them. We knew we would be quicker than them on the Umko Valley descent with Murray's Meander on the very edge of the escarpment being quite unsettling for the girls, although our neighbors from lasts year, team Lashes (a women's team), put some of the boys to shame as they followed me closely on this section, these girls could ride. The flat ride to Josephine's Bridge should be even but the technical section through Steve's spruit and the other river crossings should be ours. However, looking at these lightweights they would have edge over us on the climb out of the valley. The plan was simple we had to use the technical descents to close the gap on them and get a lead as a buffer for the Nandos climb. This meant that we had to get to the front of our batch early so that I could lead into the descent with Red doing his best to hold on. We would then try to keep a solid pace on the climb with Red managing the pace making sure that I stayed with him. (We had clearly learnt our lesson from day 1). We were still chatting about some of the details of our plan at lunch when I felt a growl coming from deep within my bowels. This was no ordinary stomach rumble, this one had been brewed up from the same dark origins as Mount Edna and Vesuvius. Almost instantly a bout of nausea occupied my foremost thoughts. Red was still talking about how the 30m plus drop offs on Murray's would have our competition almost permanently on the brakes when I dumped my half eaten lunch into the trash can and I ran for the Portaloos. Now I don't know how many of you have tried to run and exercise sphincter control at the same time, it is not a pretty sight, your gait can best be described as that of a dyslexic giraffe. I muscled my way past the queue with no one saying a word and I think that they could sense an impending disaster and let me go. I do not wish to describe this situation any further, it is not pretty and it adds nothing to this thread. The rest of the afternoon was spent managing the logistics of the queue to the toilets until I eventually stole a Reserved sign from one of the tents and stuck it on a blue Portaloo at the end of the row, problem solved. Now Red had booked us for the massages for Mackenzie and Jolivet and he insisted that I go. Against my better judgement I lined up at the table to have my Masseuse allocated to me, but with one eye on the shortest route to my special Portaloo. The young girl assigned to me was particularly pleasing on the eye and had more visible cleavage than Reds, this clearly annoyed him, as the lawyer fancied himself as a sort of modern Perry Mason. As it turned out Red and I were on adjacent beds I was trying to strike up a relationship with my attendant hoping to save myself some pain on the table. I had just established that her real job is at a spa in the foothills of the Drakensberg when she enquired as to how our day went when Red ( obviously jealous) decided to chip in that I had exhibited mad cow disease at Xumeni and that any kids I might have will be retarded. Not much a wingman is Red. Anyway this girl had clearly had enough of MTBikers and she found and ground every knotted muscle in my body. For the second time on the day I found myself gritting my teeth in pain but now with the added complexity of trying exercise extreme sphincter control. I was not going to last, and a serious accident was but one more knot away and the only help I got from Red was a stupid grin as he knew I was in serious trouble and he was loving my discomfort. The massage could not end soon enough and the cleavage was telling me how important hydration is following a massage when I scurried off in mid sentence for my reserved shuttle to dehydrate further. At this stage I had the dyslexic giraffe down pat. I skipped the prize giving, the videos of the days activities, and most importantly dinner. I lay in my tent with my camelback elevated on top of my box to form a sort of oral drip as I tried to get my body in some sort of shape for the big one, day 2. Red was having a merry time drinking beer and cavorting with our mates and I was wearing a well beaten path to the reserved Portaloo. I was sort of hoping for some sort of support from Red but all I got was "Hey Blue looking at your face I should call you green!". My Portaloo sojourns continued throughout the night with the only excitement being a turf war I had early in the morning with the cleaning ladies as to who the reserved Portaloo was actually reserved for. I was dispatched with a rather dismissive "Hai wenna, hamba lapa side" hell hath no fury like a Zulu Maiden in musk and I did not have the strength to argue. This was the sight we woke up to on the morning of day 2. Now this was going to be interesting......