Munga Grit Cradle 2021

[HOEKVLAG]

I tip my hat to you dear sir - for completing the race, but also for the way you managed to capture the experience.

[Koos Likkewaan]

48 minutes ago, TyronLab said:

Chapter Eight
The Start of your new life.

I have been humbled by the response from my family, friends, and even barely-known cycling acquaintances. I’ve never been called Yster so many times in my life. I’ve been told I’ve inspired people. I’ve had a few questions repeatedly asked in response to hearing I had taken this challenge on. Is your butt still sore? Did you lose any weight? How did you sleep?

This experience has redefined many of my boundaries. It has redefined what I think it means to be human, to find gratification in being in complete control of your destiny and of meeting your basic, primal needs. It has redefined my spectrum of what I consider easy and difficult, giving me a true appreciation for how fortunate most of us are to live the lives we do. 

As my brain catches up on processing those fifty hours, I’ve formed a much clearer understanding of what it meant, and a singular statement has become apparent as the fog of sleep deprivation and physical exertion has lifted. It is one of gratifying simplicity. 

I’m not special. I’m just human.

In no way, shape, or form, or by any measurement mankind has yet to discover would I be considered anything more than an average Homo Sapien. Flesh and blood, farts and hair. Indistinguishable, in the grand scheme of things, from you, reading this right now. I don’t consider completing the Munga Grit as an accomplishment that elevates me above anyone else. I consider it a testament to the ability that lies within everyone that you or I know to face adversity, and use whatever you can muster inside you to rise above it. It’s a testament to starting, even if you’re pretty sure you’re going to fail. It’s a testament to the power that resides in all of us.

Nothing is impossible.

I hear you, and I agree with you, but still you rode it and I am reading about it !!

So, well done and great, great achievement.

Maybe one day.

 

[The Ouzo]

well freaken done man.

Like has been said, you say you're only human, but the difference between me and you is that you have conquered it, I wont even attempt it.

[thebob]

That was an awesome read. Well done on your achievement!

[Jay F]

Thoroughly enjoyed that read - it might even have served as some inspo for me to do one in 2023

[Rowl]

Take a bow Tyron, inspirerend om te lees.

 

Noted you mentioned the chainring as the only thing to change, but groupo on the Rook hold up well? Rook should add this to their brochure...

[I FLY]

2 hours ago, TyronLab said:

Chapter One
Origins

My interest in Ultra-distance cycling started not through my conscious instigation, and I’m certain in no small part due to Google understanding my inner workings better than I would care, or want, to know. As if by some cosmic fluke, within five months of buying my first big-boy mountain bike I had completed a 947 and was entered into the following year’s Transbaviaans.  Hardly the vision I had, after watching hours of full-face-helmeted maniacs rip down Canadian mountains, when I had bought that first bike as a “cheaper” way to fill the motocross-bike-sized hole I had in my tail whipping heart. 

Yet I came, and saw, and conquered that first ‘Baviaans, even though its 227km had, mere weeks before, still seemed as insurmountable as the mountain the route crossed. I had for the first time in my life really extended the boundary of what I thought I was capable of. In preparation for climbing the aforementioned mountain I had been exposed to ultra cycling in my periphery. Images of strung-out, mismatched masochists carrying most of the Outdoor Warehouse on their bikes. Tales of rides orders of magnitude larger and longer than I thought in the realm of possibility outside of stringy drug addicts zinging up mountains every summer in France for a yellow jersey. 

Diving into this rabbit hole I had discovered, and was instantly ensnared, by Carlo Gonzaga’s brilliantly captured preparation, and eventual conquering, of his first full-fat Munga. It also introduced me to Mike Woolnough, who I had the honour of meeting during my Grit, and his encyclopedia of ultra-cycling knowledge. Should this… whatever it is… bear any resemblance to those fine works, I would not only see it as a form of undue flattery, but as evidence to those authors that their writings had been echoing in my mind throughout my own Munga journey. 

After committing those insightful and entertaining paragraphs to memory I had given myself a guilt free, excuse filled goal. “One day, when I can afford the entry, and the right kit, and the right bike, and the kids are bigger and I have time to train, maybe I’ll try this Munga thing out”. That “one day” came two weeks before this Grit, when a family member casually asked whether I knew about some race happening in The Cradle in October. Their company had received a sponsored entry, so they were looking for a rider. She knew I rode bikes, would I like the entry? 

The optimist in me had already sent the “I’M IN!!!!” reply before the realist in me had a chance to slap him on the back of the head. 

Yup, that’s a PVC frame keeping that poor soul’s head up during the 4,800km Race Across America

This condition is called Sherman' neck - named after a cyclist called Michael Sherman . He was doing the Race Across America in 1983 when the condition hit him. 

[TyronLab]

Thanks for the kind words everyone. I don't consider myself a wordsmith, but if it made your Friday workday feel shorter then I'm happy!

18 minutes ago, Jay F said:

Thoroughly enjoyed that read - it might even have served as some inspo for me to do one in 2023

Screw 2023, I'm sure entries for the full-fat one in 2021 are still open. Or at the very least 2022. Just click that little Enter Now button. It's the hardest part of the journey (I'm assuming).

9 minutes ago, Roul said:

Take a bow Tyron, inspirerend om te lees.

Noted you mentioned the chainring as the only thing to change, but groupo on the Rook hold up well? Rook should add this to their brochure...

Look, given an unlimited budget I would be on a full-sus Open gravel bike, some nice 700c x 50mm tyres and a wireless Eagle MTB groupo with a 38t chainring. But, practically, the biggest difference I could make would be the chainring. Being able to spin up climbs just conserves a lot of energy. The rest of it you can change will just make certain sections suck less, and others suck more. 

I had quite a few chain drops, but to be frank, what do you expect out of an 11-spd bike that costs R15k out of the box? Upgrade to a good clutch derailleur and it'd be golden. I was surprised by how hassle-free the drivetrain's been so far, and I have not been kind to it (evidently).

[Jay F]

19 minutes ago, TyronLab said:

 

Screw 2023, I'm sure entries for the full-fat one in 2021 are still open. Or at the very least 2022. Just click that little Enter Now button. It's the hardest part of the journey (I'm assuming).

 

The idea is to get through Race To The Sun, Ride The Karoo, Race To The Sea and Sabie Xperience next year before attempting anything resembling the Grit ????

[RocknRolla]

Thank you for sharing. A really good read. 
Well done on completing. It is an achievement most (me included at this stage) will never have the opportunity to experience. The fact that you overcame the intrinsic human need to make everything easier and more comfortable, and chose to carry on to see how far you can push yourself, is commendable.

[Pikey]

What an absolutely entertaining and captivating read. You clearly have the grit needed to do this type of event .

I have often wondered if I have what it takes , if I could deal with the sleep deprivation and have the mindset to “keep on keeping on” when everything around you is alien, your body aches like it has never done before and your brain/ mind is so foggy that you start hallucinating.

You story is truly inspirational . Massive kudos on the achievement and medal ????

Edited October 8, 2021 by Pikey

[Rowl]

Thread resurrect... So what happened in 2022 @TyronLab???

[TyronLab]

6 minutes ago, Roul said:

Thread resurrect... So what happened in 2022 @TyronLab???

You can find some pre-race chatter here: 

 

I started compiling this year's ride into a story, but I ran out of steam a bit. It was in some ways easier, and in some ways harder, than last year's ride. I finished way more comfortably (47 hours and some change) with a lot of naps.

I'll post the first few (still rough) bits here. If anyone's interested in more I'll write the rest.

[TyronLab]

Introduction

Being in the (un)fortunate position of having worked in heavy industry and mining for my entire career, safety has unwaveringly, often begrudgingly, been touted as the top priority. Queue a deluge of infographics, box ticking surveys, and reenactment videos even Verimark would cringe at using. A safety risk factor universal to every corporate policy I’ve had to wade through is complacency, or in some more visceral depictions, The Python. 

“While it lies in wait, you may walk past it numerous times, you may even see it, but ignore it due to it not seeming to pose an immediate risk until WHAM, it strikes!” an underappreciated and underpaid thespian proclaims voicing over a PowerPoint animation of lightning striking a stick figure. “Meh” I’d always grumble mid-video, “how dof do these people think I am?”. 

In 2021’s rendition of the Grit I was so laughably out of my depth, so wholly unprepared (even disregarding the horrendous conditions), that before that race I stared into its jaws and saw nothing but a dimly lit cavern filled with Vipers, fraught with danger. Every meter past the 250km mark was a personal achievement.  

Needless to say, when this year’s rodeo rolled around I was feeling somewhat confident. What I knew for a fact was:

1. It was at least possible for me to finish it, even though I had previously done so with only 18 minutes to spare before the cutoff having turned myself inside out to do so. 
2. I had an actual mountain bike this time, although I was still foregoing any form of suspension (and sanity, judging by my fellow Mungrel’s comments).
3. There was no rain predicted, so no Satan’s-underpants mud to contend with.
4. I had one full extra week of notice before the start (that’s 50% more than last time), and had at least somewhat prepared for my trundle through the Transbaviaans in August. Theoretically this would grant me some form of fitness.

Hell, I decided to not even take the Monday after the race off. Why bother? I’d breeze through the race, have the whole Sunday to chill at home, and arrive triumphant to work on Monday to rake in the adulation of my peers. Winner winner chicken dinner.

The Munga Python was hiding in the grass, betwixt my feet, giggling it’s hungry little arse off, licking its lips in anticipation.

I had further, for some reason, set myself the random goal of finishing < midnight on Saturday. More on that later.

[TyronLab]

Chapter One

“One-thing-leading-to-another” stories seems to be a recurring theme in my existence. I blame it on a particularly unsafe mix of optimism, curiosity, and disregard for personal wellbeing.

All of this started with an innocuous Google Photo memory. “One Year Ago” the enigmatic notification read. It led to a photo of my previous bike (RIP sweet Thunderhorse) all kitted up for the ‘21 Grit. In a moment of reminiscing I sent it to the friend that got me the sponsored entry previously, jokingly captioned “Can’t believe it was a year ago already! You wouldn’t happen to be hiding another entry in your back pocket would you? :)”.

What I got in reply was a screenshot of an email, sent 15 minutes earlier, of her boss asking her if there were any sponsor entries for this year’s race, as their regular sponsored riders were preparing for the Wines to Whales and wouldn’t be riding. An hour later I received my registration email from the Munga team.

“Wel, daar gat jy!” 

I at least did some preparation by buying a new bag and front light. I’d be damned if I was going to ride with only that piddly little headlamp light again, fool me once cheapo Marvel light (well, technically, it died in the Transbaviaans too, so fool me TWICE, BUT NOT THRICE!). I also went on one Grit-specific training ride, but seeing that it was only a 80km dawdle bisected by a few beers with friends it was hardly bootcamp.

Tennisball in Munga-Grit guise. I evidently have a thing for South African steel bikes.

The Python emerged from the tree line for the first time during this training ride however. The aforementioned pause mid-ride, and related adult beverages, led to me riding home much later than I normally would, in the sizzling heat of the late morning.

A wiser man would have seen the correlation between the slightly elevated temperature I was riding in, my state of unexpected suffering, and the upcoming weekend’s forecasted heat wave, and would have started ringing the alarm bells. All my hunk of grey matter could muster was “man, drinking beer and riding bikes at the same time is an awful idea!”. Idiot.

The only other planning I did was decide to carry the yellow Powerbar bottle I picked up in the previous Grit (unused since) as a good luck charm. It had been a gift from the course after losing a bottle last time, and I would return it to its motherland for a scenic thank you tour to it and the universe. I decided to re-use the strap-on bottle cage mount that caused my original bottle to get flung into the countryside last time, this time mounting it under the downtube and using a velcro strap to secure the bottle to it. A vigorous shake post-installation was the extent of my testing. “Solid” I thought.

Edited October 24, 2022 by TyronLab

[TyronLab]

Chapter Two

With the quiet confidence of a man that thinks he can pull off a laced linen shirt and white moccasins I sipped on a coke, listening to the race briefing on Friday morning. When the race director asked “who’s doing this for the first time today?” I revelled in my lack of needing to meekly raise my hand. It was already a balmy 34°C in the shade according to the Garmin (not that I’d been smart enough to check at the time) and by the time we set off it reported a peak of 40°C and didn’t dip below 30°C until the sun kissed the horizon, five hours and 80km later.

By the time I reached Water Point 1, 75km in, I was “paperye” as my son would put it. My heart was doing an ecstasy fuelled samba, I was nauseous, my head was throbbing, my mouth was drier than British comedy and my internal battery had been syphoned completely by the unrelenting sun turning the North West into an oven. Luckily, as dusk turned to twilight and the first evening’s riding set in, I could feel the battery getting a jolt of juice with every dropping Centigrade. 

The Python had taken its first swipe, and my complete lack of heat acclimatisation was alarmingly apparent.

The sky, and the temperature drop, were equally gorgeous.

Fortunately the Mars-like weather also meant that there was none of the motivation-and-bike-destroying mud from ‘21, the PTSD it inflicted still burning in my soul as a vivid memory. The now-hardened knee deep trenches made by overconfident Hilux tyres, leading to a tractor tyre’s chevron imprint was now the physical memory of an  emasculating call for rescue from unexpectedly treacherous mud. 

The buzz I got from arriving at Water Point 2 close to midnight, 187km done, more than two hours earlier than last time (and not crying)  relegated the afternoon’s heat to a long-forgotten anomalous occurrence. The road there had not been without peril, as I discovered at JoJo 2 (midway between Waterpoint 1 and 2) that my downtube bottle cage had snapped (whodathunk that a random bottlecage I found in my spares bin wouldn’t be military grade). Luckily, the trusty zip tie came to the rescue. Another tug (similar to the one upon installation) gave me a sliver of confidence that it would hold my precious Powerbar bottle in place for the rest of the ride. 

It didn’t. The Powerbar bottle was once again donated to veld whence it came at some or other point before water point 2, and I was back to carrying my third bottle in my jersey pocket. I like to think of that Powerbar bottle as the mountain biker’s version of the Travelling Pants, being passed along by fate to those who might need it most at the time, although much likelier to give you a stomach bug.

Spot the zip tie

Edited October 24, 2022 by TyronLab