It was a dark and stormy night in Oak valley, okay only dark but the chatter around the camp site was of rain and gale force winds. Everyone connected to the internet was giving us an update “Rain with 50km/h wind” said one; “Windguru says 90km/hr” said another. But Red and I had more pressing matters my partner Red had to catch an earlier flight ( lawyer stuff ) so we were off to race office to see if we could start in an earlier batch. The ladies at race office were most accommodating “We can move you from F to C“ this gave us the half hour we needed from our estimated time to complete stage 3 and for Red to make his flight back to Joburg. Red was relieved and settled down for a restful sleep but my mind was trying to calculate the effect that a wet track and wind would have on our time. I kept these thoughts to myself Red was a stress bunny at the best of times. Sunshine greeted us at the 7:20 start perhaps all the weather reports were wrong we were in for a great day’s riding to compliment the previous 2 days of absolute pleasure. We were mindful of the fact that we were with faster riders so we settled in at the back of the batch, the C batch sweep recognised that we were out of place “Julle manne lyk as of julle so R50 onder die tafel gesit het om hier te wees”. Cheeky bastard but he was right and we had every intention of letting anyone that looked even remotely quicker than us have right of way. At the first single track we let the front of D batch through and I was fascinated by the spectrum of skills on display and it did not take us long to realise that we were more than equal to the skillset at the front of D batch. What impressed me was their willingness to let us through when they became aware that we were quicker (perhaps they thought we were genuine C batch riders). We held our own on the descent into Botrivier and we caught up to the tail of C batch, but it was clear the weather was changing and Red was getting grumpy. The wind, rain and sudden drop in temperature just before we crossed Botrivier forced us to stop and put our on wind breakers. I did a quick calculation we were doing well, 2 hours and 40 km done but what we were facing suggested we had done the easy part. As we turned off the tar on to the gravel road the wind hit us, if you were there you’ll know what I mean, if not I’ll try and describe it for you. Imagine trying to ride through a wet blanket held on either side by overweight midgets each pulling on the blanket at different times. You end up swaying from right to left as a gust of wind hits you, Windguru was right this was no 50km/hr wind this was serious. We quickly realised that this was turning into a ride of attrition and we needed to organise ourselves if we wanted to survive. The past two days showed that I was the strongest rider in our team with Red cramping at the end of both days so I took it upon myself to lead into the teeth of the wind with Red tucked in behind. I knew it was important to protect Red from the savage onslaught of the gale force wind but I too had my hands full in just trying to stay on course so I dared not turn around to check that he was on the slip. So I resorted to shouting into the wind “RED IS THE FLEA ON THE DOG?” (Our code for are you on the slip?) . Red was in no mood for fun and the best I got was a curt “YES” which despite his gruff demeanour was music to my ears. Progress was excruciatingly slow I checked my Garmin after the ride and it showed that we only covered 5km in that third hour. My legs were burning but I kept my head down and fought the midgets checking on Red often enough to hear the irritation rising in his tone. After about 45 minutes my Flea on the Dog enquiry was met with silence and although it seemed impossible the wind had picked up considerably another two midgets were added to the blanket. I repeated the question a few more times not wanting to turn around and look, just as I was about risk a peek a different voice answered above the howl of the wind “Ja man hy is op die slip ry net”. I had no choice but to take a quick glance behind me and I could see Red was there but so too were another four teams. Red told me afterwards that they had tucked in behind us as we turned off the tar road and stayed there. I could understand why, Red and I were in the whale class and our new companions were skinny racing snakes so the slip they got from Red and I was the cycling equivalent of sitting behind a bus. I wondered how long they would stay with us? Would we become friends? Then it dawned on me this was an opportunity of a lifetime for me, let me explain. Many years ago we were on my way to The Ithala Challenge canoe race and it was my birthday. My son, who was my paddling partner for the race, was determined to celebrate my birthday at the Piet Retief Spur which was en route. He convinced me that there would be sparklers, singing, I would get to wear the chief’s feather headdress and most importantly I would get to join the secret tribe. Piet Retief could not come soon enough as my excitement of being part of a secret tribe grew, what incredible adventures the tribe and I were going to have, oh the secrets we would have, the rest of the world would envy us. We ordered our food and my son made the announcement “It’s his birthday!” The staff immediately jumped into action and in no time at all there was a cake with sparklers and happy birthday was sung with great gusto with my wife, my son and other patrons joining in. But wait, where are the chief’s feathers? “Sorry suh you too old“ was the explanation “Okay but I can still join the secret tribe, right”. I think the waiter could see the disappointment growing in my 50 year old eyes as he shook his head I could see the sadness in his eyes. I think I sulked until we saw the hippo in the Pongola River where my disappointment was replaced with a carnal fear. So here in the howling wind I had finally found my secret tribe, we were to be known as the Storm Riders and I would be their chief. I needed a cool chief name but what? I glanced back at my tribe, heads were down as despite the protection my slip offered them they still had to work hard to battle the elements. The wind and driving rain made it impossible to wear cycling glasses and these were dispensed with which meant that we had to also contend with the mud flung from our tires by keeping our eyes only slightly open. Our eyes had taken quite a battering and were so red and swollen they reminded me of rat vaginas in breeding season…..That’s it! That’s my chief name! Chief Rides with Rats! I wonder if Kevin Costner will play the lead role in the movie? My mind moved to thinking about secret handshakes while trying desperately to stay on a raised section of single track when a huge gust of wind blew me right off the track and down the mountain, a midget must let go. “Ag nee! Daar waai die v*%ken wind ons slip see toe” and in an instant my secret tribe was gone, disappearing into a squall not even Red bothered to help as he only had the relative safety of the water point on his mind. The wind and rain eventually abated somewhat but the damage had been done and we limped our way to the finish. Red set off immediately after a shower for the airport while I wandered around hoping to connect with my tribe, an impossible task as virtually everyone had rat vagina eyes! Maybe next year I will find my tribe.
