This article was inspired by Ollie, and is dedicated to every cyclist who has ever had a puncture, or suffered a climb. It draws from tales and various experiences of a number of riders participating in the 2008 Argus.  

Although the facts that you are about to experience are real, names have been changed to protect the innocent... 

Argus '08 - a great day to be out on the road.

The TV went on at 6am for coverage of the 2008 Argus, and even before I could start getting dressed I had a lump in my throat.  Breakfast did nothing to ease the uncertainty. Did I train enough? Can I do this? Fidgeting, I checked the bike for the hundredth time, the tyre levers, the tubes, made sure the brakes are loose and the wheels free-spinning. I forced a good breakfast down.

Making my way into the chutes was a very friendly, carnivallish affair. Riders shared a nervous joke, advice, with family, friends and spectators giving last words of encouragement. It seems as if Cape Town stands still for a day.  The nervous concern over my lack of training just wouldn’t go away, but I soon realised: EVERYBODY was concerned about their lack of preparation...

The cycle computer was inkling towards the 4 hour region, but I wasn't paying much attention to that demonic bearer of bad news... 

The magnitude of the event hit home when I saw the starting pens. From about 6am to 10am riders are ‘released’ onto the road, 300 riders every 4 minutes, totalling almost 40 000,00 entrants sent off in their respectively seeded groups. In the final moments before each group’s start, a burst of spectacular music acknowledges the riders effort and preparation leading up to the challenge. Waiting in the chutes, I got shivers half a dozen times as the music culminated months of training for thousands. Spandex clad cycling gods & uber-hot ladies, omies & tannies, guys armed with rugby shorts and tekkies all combine to launch their attacks on the Atlantic seaboard’s most scenic route. What a spectacle!

The Start

My group started at 09h27, so I was perfectly aware that if I was going to be on the road for almost five hours, I'd only reach the finish line after 14h00. No wind at the start, but we all knew it was going to be a hot day. It’s rather intimidating to know that a number of riders have already completed the ride, and we’re still waiting to start...

Our top 10 Argus tips:

1)    Avoid cat-eyes. Especially if you’re on a racer...

2)    Drink water. Drink Powerade. Drink Coke.

3)    Have a good, filling breakfast. You’re going to need it.

4)    Sunscreen. Never leave home without it.

5)    Make sure your bike’s wheels, seat and brakes are working properly. Check your headset!

6)    Bananas / sandwiches / jelly babies are excellent energy providers along the route.

7)    Always carry a bottle of water.

8)    Carry two spare tubes, a tested multitool and a pump. Leave them at home at your own peril!

9)    Pack a sense of humour and you’ll never be frustrated en route.

10)  Lookout! Communicate! No swerving!

As the starter’s gun went – with the mandatory “5,4,3,2,1: Hopla!” echoing against the inner city’s buildings - the pace was not too hectic on the first few climbs, and I did not kill myself by simply staying with my group. In all fairness, traffic was heavily congested.  Almost got wiped out when someone knocked me pretty hard, but my guardian Angels (riding domestique?) worked hard.

Traffic on the freeway towards Hospital Bend was relatively free-flowing as we started to catch & merge with the previous groups.  During the descent – however - an accident forced the marshals to herd us into a single lane (at walking pace), but it lasted only a minute before I was back on my way.I had to keep on the far right past Newlands forest, and did so again on the steepest climb of the day, Edinburgh Drive.

These tyres are crazy!

Edinburgh Drive

The climb is lined with supporters and has a truly spectacular view from the bottom, with a snaking river of helmets bobbing and weaving as far as one could see. Somehow, it didn't take very long, and all that I can remember is the lined crowds cheering us on. A bergie shouted gleefully at us:” Djulle moet vandag nog teen Suikerbossie yt!” laughing in his sleeve at this bunch. I could hear him driving his point home with a relentless “Sykebossie wag vi djulle!” as we left him behind.

The M3

Being a heavy rider I put the downhill to good use as I passed loads of riders down Wynberg Hill, and the M3 was quick having caught a good bunch; I’m not too proud to admit to wheelsucking behind an outoppie of some stature (that’s what you call a slipstream!) We averaged 35-40kph, and I realised again that the back bunches are not as bad as everyone says. If you put your mind to it you can do a respectable ride, you’ll just have to accept to speak to the riders in front of you.

The Argus has an interesting type of participant – the Disgruntled Begrudged - competing in it. These riders start within  the open bunches firmly believing they are racing in the race of all races, but despite their lowly starting status they will bunch together, and hysterically shout at anyone in front  of them “Passing left, or “Hold your line!” in feverishly attacking the ride. They can very easily be offensive - are often dangerous - and I could only ask myself:” If they’re such wonderful riders, what are they doing in my bunch? Didn’t they know there’ll be 30,000 amateur cyclists out on the road today?” The Argus is and always will be a nervous experience! With 300 riders of ‘similar’ ability jostling for a position within the group … it’s a recipe for crashes.

 I found that by being firmly friendly - not shouting – in communications, it has the best effect. It is in everybody’s best interest of being kept aware of what is happening around you/them, for when something goes wrong, it goes wrong very quickly...

Fishhoek

The endulating progress through Muizenberg and Fishhoek was swift and trouble-free. I chatted with other riders, met a man doing his 16^th Argus! The supporters along these streets have to be the most jovial along the route with bands blaring and joustful comments & chirps filling the air. I suddenly noticed that I could feel the road slightly more through the back wheel. Damnation!  Just my luck.

I struggled to remove the tyre, but, with some assistance from an eager spectator volunteering for domestiqual duties, we replaced the tube in just over ten minutes. It put a bit of a damper on things, but I was motivated that my sub 4:30 still looked reasonable albeit that I’m cutting it very close...

 I had smitten Smitswinkel!

And then, disaster. Not even a kilometre down the road, PFFFSSSHHHHHH!!!!! Pinched tube (obviously caused by my rush job minutes earlier) and I started slinging inward abuse at myself! Back off the bike, real wheel off - tube completely flat - sweat streaming down my face. This time I really struggled to get the tyre off the rim - my nervous lack of coordination (whilst swearing at myself)was doing more harm than good. Are all road bike tyres like this? These tyres are crazy! By the time I had it off and the tube out; my legs were getting stiff and my back aching. I checked the tyre and found the bastardious culprit - a little thorn stuck through the tyre wall - waiting for its opportunity to taunt me again, whether 50m or 50km down the road.

 How I struggled to get that tyre back on the rim! Every minute battled was a minute of harder riding to come. Persistence finally paid off and I was on my way. I had been off the bike for 35 minutes - not good – but I managed a water stop and toilet break (thank heavens for the toilet!)

Back on the bike, I was now starting to feel the grind. I wasn't even halfway, and had no spare tube left. Next, my stiffish legs (and a slight cramp in my right hip flexor) would have to deal with Smitswinkel  under a relentless sun... Saw a guy with such a huge backpack, he must have been planning a picnic! (Smirkingly I appreciated that at least I wouldn’t have to haul that over Chapman’s...)

Smitswinkel

A hint of a breeze was felt on the way in to Simonstown. Exiting it - the rounding grind culminates in Smitswinkel whose top basically constitutes the halfway, turnaround point heading back north - the heat became an issue.  The section remained relatively congested, and I nearly got taken out by a swerver!  Stunning views of the Atlantic and a very well placed watering station – however - saved my soul’s sanity. Going up Smitswinkel was a 30 minute grind, but the atmosphere was one of brothers in arms, working towards battle victory. Winningtime was waiting for us on the halfway mark, confirming my suspicions – my cycling computer reads optimistic  - but it signalled the end of the climb. I had smitten Smitswinkel.

Going down the well deserved, long, free ride after Smitswinkel it looked as though two riders had came down hard. One lay unconscious, sprawled on the tar with blood around his head. It didn't look good at all. Although he was wearing a helmet, I understood why ‘No helmet, no ride’ does make sense (as Anoldt Geerts always reminds on Supercycling)...

By this point I was checking my time constantly, trying to figure out if how far behind schedule I was.  I knew I would never get the 4:30 I had hoped for, so the best strategy was to work towards a sub-5. Knowing that Chapman’s Peak and Suikerbossie was still to come, I had to make as much time as I could on the remaining flats without eating away at my energy reserves.

Scarborough

My Argus Time-Trial continued past Scarborough and into Ocean View, where the crowds were out in full force. The sun’s support was becoming overbearing...  Just past Misty Cliffs (living up to their reputation as being damp) a rather big-girthed gentleman wearing an ominously yellow jersey was singled out by the crowd for support, a woman exclamation in amazement to her children:”Kyk daai man se MOON-BAG!” Even he was laughing...

The crowds cheered us on as if we've been off to war...

Chapman's Peak

Just before Chapman's the chills hit.  Something wasn't right - possibly carb intake too high?  I had finished half my fluids before halfway, stopping for additional water, but I was now trying to play catch-up with the effects of mild dehydration. Hardly confidence inspiring before the approaching climbs. Little Chappie's was dispatched without too much effort (despite being larger than expected), but big brother made me humble. Despite the grind going up, the panoramic seaboard takes your mind of the climb. On this section I simply concentrated to take an easy pace up, spinning whilst occasionally eyeballing the crest’s glorious watering station beckoning for my  support. A rider asked “Say ‘Hoi’ if your butt hurts!” We all chimed “HOI!”

I put the hammer down heading into the Republic of Hout Bay. Almost  10k’s of downhill bliss,  knowing I had the whole road to play with. I even won the prime at the bottom in flying down (well, in my head anyway).  The downhill gives respite to legs having worked for a couple of hours, but when you're going for a time, you have to push. Passed at least a dozen riders coming down, and started to prepare for Suikerbossie.  The cycle computer was inkling towards the 4-hour region, but I wasn't paying much attention to that demonic bearer of bad news...

Hout Bay’s republican supporters cheered us on for being the Champions of Chapman’s that we were. Nervously, I started to anticipate the grind up Suikerbossie, and forced down a Goo (by this stage my body was craving water, and nothing else. To put it mildly, the Goo was just not a pleasant experience.)

Suikerbossie

 It pounced onto me from out of nowhere. There was nothing - NOTHING- else to do but to keep on spinning.  I told myself a thousand times it’s the last hill, almost there. The sides of that last stretch were lined with supporters, cheering, encouraging.  One guy ran up and down the road shouting, "YOU WILL NOT GET OFF YOUR BIKE!"  Others chimed in with the obligatory "You're almost there!" or "Not far to go!” I rode right into the spraying arc of a guy hosing riders down as they came up – man that felt good.  I got a push from a supportive angel-of-mercy, who took pity on my pace and just gave me that little bit I needed to conquer the beast. I summited the final peak of this mammothical, gargantuan climb and relief cascaded over me being crowned as the conqueror that I had just become. It’s over. My nerves relaxed, disappeared. Just the downhill, with a bit of flatland remaining.

Ordinarily, the slight headwind on the downhill can act as a nice way to cool down, allowing recovery on Victoria road, but today it was just adding insult to injury.

Camps Bay

I pushed and pushed, dodging cramping cyclists too exhausted to attempt pace after the last hurdle, and I was held up a-plenty. That last stretch is never-ending for a first time Argusser. You climb Suikerbossie, thinking (hoping) it’s just freewheeling to an easy finish. Perhaps there’s just a minor uphill coming out of Camps Bay remaining, but what gets to you is the amount of traffic, and that mischievous, confusing headwind.

Coming into Camps Bay, the crowds cheer you on for being a Survivor of Suikerbossie. Bands blaring, but you have to remain focused on the last stretch. Tempting to stop for a beer – SA’s finest -  but I knew I wouldn’t get onto the bike after that... the last, whimsical climb and then just flatland...

Cape Town salutes these Spandex-clad warriors... 

The finish

Into Sea Point I somehow mustered a sprint finish. Only had one really hairy moment when a dog ran in front of me. Miraculously I managed to brake without incident, but sure hope someone kicked the dog’s owner, though.   Where was that finish line?

The last couple of K’s winding into Greenpoint flew past, despite what in hindsight must have been a leisurely cruise. The crowds cheered us on as if we’ve been off to war...

The spectators were fantastic, shouting encouragement and support from their chairs, cars & bars, assisting riders when they could. Music and pompom girls were pumping from the refreshment stations, and the volunteers along the route were enthusiastic. So many people fighting their way to the finish, each working towards their personal goal, whilst Cape Town salutes these spandex-clad warriors. It’s a tribute to a beautiful city, and something I’ll never forget.

Going over the mats I had missed my sub 5 by six minutes and 49 seconds. Nevertheless, my average HR was pretty much maxed out the entire way culminating in a good, solid finish. Overall, I’m very chuffed with my performance, and glad to have taken part in a sporting event of such magnitude. The organisation is - simply put - ‘fantastic’, and constitutes an iconic South African experience!

Next year

All in all, what have I learnt from my experience?  What a privilege to be part of such an event . Meet Superman and his 7 cousins, several Batmen, Zulu Warriors, busy buzzing bees, a couple of fairies and a girl with a racoon on her helmet. Riders having cycled down from Bloemfontein (yep –Bloemfontein!).  Add to that a wonderful break in Cape Town with beautiful sunsets from Blaauwberg, and it will take you a week to just stop smiling... 

Next year? I'm convinced that on a road bike with cycling shoes, better training and decent luck, I just might break the magical 4h barrier. Less food an more hills for me, and "I'll be back!" Stronger, fitter, faster... (Gotta take the prime coming into Hout Bay...) But next year, I'm taking my time, going to help someone and enjoy a well deserved beer in Camps Bay. If I'm feeling strong enough, I just might join that other guy in having a picnic on Chapmans!

The best approach to your Argus

The best way of doing the Argus? Do not worry about your time. It’s actually a fun ride, to be enjoyed by young and old, by supporters and spectators. Someone will win, officially, but thousands will simply just finish and enjoy a day out on the bike in one of the most beautiful settings in the world. The day might be hot, might be cold, rainish, there might be delays, all of which will frustrate your ‘target’ time.  A better way of measuring performance ‘on the day’ is to check your performance against your age & starting groups,  it will take into account the circumstances on the day, and assign a performance indicator according to your ride.

And it all starts with a "Hopla!"

About 45 people were hospitalised during the ’08 Argus Cycle Tour, two of them with suspected heart attacks, doctors at the race said.   "We had two serious head injuries, a third with a fractured hip and pelvis and two patients, both in their sixties, with unconfirmed heart attacks.  Speaking from the medical tent at the finish line, Medi Clinic's Dr Sue le Roux said there had been "a lot of very tired people. The rub tent has been particularly busy. " A total of 75 incidents were reported.

Rudi Oosterhuis, 17, from Gauteng, who had completed his first Argus, said he collided with a marshal while coming around a bend at 60km/h.  "I smacked into him with my head, and blacked out a little bit. He also blacked out. I got back on my bike and finished. I've just got a bit of a headache now." 

Capetonian Abubakr Abrahams entered the race for the first time after a bet with an uncle that he couldn't complete it in under four hours. Someone on a mountain bike cut in front him coming down Cape Point. He over-steered, fell and slid along the road on his stomach. With his helmet still strapped to his head, two bloodied knees and torn cycling shorts, he sat smiling, waiting for a medic to see to him. "The fall didn't hurt, but the two guys who went over me hurt like hell," he said.  "When you conquer Suikerbossie, you can't help but smile. It's everything people said it would be." (He did lose the bet, though.)