# The Cape Argus Race, Cape Town.



## Globalti (13 Mar 2012)

This was my third Argus, tagged onto the end of a business trip so the little fitness I'd been able to build up during our miserable January and February had all but melted away after two weeks of beer and hotel food and only a couple of short easy rides. 

Up at 05:30 for breakfast and set off at to ride a couple of kms into Cape Town for my 07:34 start. The logistics of getting 35,000 riders started at the right time are massive and well-practised. I was worried about the wind as all of Saturday it had been blowing a hoolie, battering the hotel, but Sunday was windless but already hot as I waited in the start pen with foreign riders' Y group. Off we went in a tight bunch, the premier of Western Cape Helen Zille and her "Say No to Drugs" team soon left behind - not sure how they got placed in a foreigners' group. For the first few miles the route snakes through the suburbs and up a couple of long hills, one long dangerous descent at Hospital Bend then you are onto the fast, flat, straight Blue Route, which crosses the flats joining the rocky Cape and Table Mountain to the land mass of Africa. The sun was rising and still no wind, the south-easterly should have been straight in our faces by now. The riding was so close that I had a dry mouth of nerves for the first few kms until I got into my stride.

Shamelessly wheel-sucking I jumped onto the back of a line led by a couple of riders in green Italian club jerseys. We charged across the flats passing big bunches of slower riders until we became mixed up with one particularly big bunch spread right across three lanes. Suddenly I found myself surrounded by cyclists, all jostling nervously and decided to get out of the crowd. Less than a minute after I had moved to the edge I heard a woman yell out behind me, a really awful agonised yell of shock and dismay followed by the thump of bones hitting tarmac and the crash of bikes; glancing over my left shoulder I glimpsed limbs flailing and bodies tumbling. I'm still feeling shocked today as I remember the suddenness of the crash and the horror in that woman's scream. According to a South African forum somebody was airlifted from that crash and generally there seem to be a lot more reports of crashes than in my first two events. The elite women suffered a massive pile up just metres from the finishing line as they became mixed up with a group of fast veteran men and at several points along the ride I saw riders sitting dazed and bloodied by the road and at one point a woman unconscious in the road surrounded by friends. No baboons dashing into the road for gel sachets and causing accidents this time though.

On through the seaside resorts of Fish Hoek and Simonstown, spectators lining the streets and making spectacular amounts of noise. Up to the road leading to Cape Point and a long fast descent, heading back in a northerly direction up the Atlantic coast of the Cape. I stopped at almost every feed station for water, anxious not to suffer a repeat of the cramp that had marred my first two years. Approaching Capri Village I was expecting to see my agent, a Scot who always serenades the passing cyclists with his bagpipes but who I had missed on my first two events. This year we got the timing right and about 100 metres away I heard the skirl of the pipes and moved across to the right to stop. However I under-estimated my speed and was still moving too fast when I rode off the hot tarmac onto the verge where Bryan was standing with his wife and her father. The verge turned out to be deep, loose gravel and my front wheel washed out, throwing me onto my back in a cloud of red dust. I might as well have dropped in by parachute; they had about three seconds to recognise me in my cycle kit before I arrived, comically and dramatically in a heap at their feet! 

Luckily no harm done to me or the bike and after a can of cola I was on my way again. There are five major climbs on the Argus and the one I feared most was the next, Chapman's peak, where the road climbs in a slot cut into a steep mountain side with the blue Atlantic breaking on rocks about 600 feet below. Last year I cramped terribly here but this year despite the hot conditions my earlier start time meant that much of the climb was still in shadow so I reached the feed station at the top with no drama. Another drink and then down the fast, wide, smooth and wonderfully twisting descent to Hout Bay, another resort. The crowds were much less on the descent as everybody was spread out but I read that later in the morning the congestion was so bad at Chapman's due to slower riders from later start groups that people were forced to walk the last 200 metres to the top. By carefully cutting the wide bends while keeping an eye around me for other riders I was able to make up some good time.

After Hout Bay, the dreaded Suikerbossie, a mile-long but steady climb. Here it was hot and I read that later in the day somebody measured 45 degrees C on the road, which climbs up in a windless cutting with no shelter at all from the full African sun. Thousands of spectators line the route, some spraying passing cyclists with garden hoses, all yelling encouragement that carries exhausted riders up the last hill by will power alone. Later in the day riders were forced to walk again by the congestion that built up on the hill and around the feed station at the top. By now you have ridden all but the last 15 miles of the 68 mile route and are feeling tired. Blessed relief to reach the top and down the long descent into the suburbs that line the shore to the west of Table Mountain, where the road is flat but winds in and out of bays, past villas and apartment buildings and finally in a mad dash for the finish line, cold drinks and shelter from the sun.

An epic ride and I managed to achieve my objective of less than 4 hours riding time, with 3:58 although my official time was 4:11 thanks to the time spent drinking and chatting. My bike performed faultlessly though I saw many walking with flat tyres or broken bikes and couldn't believe the crappy condition and the noises made by some of the bikes I passed.


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## VamP (13 Mar 2012)

Sounds terrifying! 

All you need to do is go and experience how much carnage 40 4th cats can generate on a closed circuit, to realise that a race of 35 000 with mixed abilities is a recipe for massive crashes.

Well done for meeting your goal


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## topcat1 (13 Mar 2012)

thanks for that i've seen some vids about the wind, well done for finishing this time


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