T42 Mountain Bike Race

I’ve never ridden the much talked about 42^nd traverse and have always wanted to, so thought how better to enjoy the scenery than in an intense race.

Friday started off in an intense rush, Gapping a clients office on Queen Street back to the office and then onto the motorway. Off we go baby! An hour later and 2 km down the highway we were listening to some shitty pop music on Jeremy’s wifes ipod. Living the dream.

Fast forward time the best part of a decade and we were in Taupo. Only fitting to go to the pub for a beer after work on Friday, so the pub it was for a pint and fish and chips. Really got to sort my pre race nutrition out.  

After a early night, first light had not yet broken and we were off towards National Park. Taupo is a few degrees colder than Auckland and a certain member of of the party was whining like a 5 year old girl about it. I suppose not having any hair means a lot of body heat is lost.

We arrived at the race site nice and early to get sorted. Next challenge was to rustle up some survival supplies enough to satisfy the officials. The requirements were fairly strict requiring everyone to have a jacket, poly prop, space blanket, first aid kit, whistle to name a few. I rocked up with most things covered, but my interpretive whistling didn’t pass the safety requirements. Apparently I had to purchase one.

I had a good warm up and snuck into the front row for the start. The start was nice and controlled, but the bunch was surging a bit. I heard a couple rubs of tires and started getting nervous. Too many hormones and race start adrenaline is not conducive to safe riding. Heading onto the dirt I made sure I was up front to avoid inevitable carnage. The first part of the course is farm track with some grass farm land with pinchy some climbs. I am a fan of this stuff so no problems here. Very soon it was down to about 6 of us, with Reynolds and Northcote setting the tempo. I was pretty happy to just tag along for now. Didn’t really know what to expect in terms of course but knew there were a few larger climbs later on to force selection.

The descents were awesome fun, bermed corners and super fast. Pretty soon it was a train of 4 of us pumping down the descents. I had one slip up losing the wheels of the others on some clay, but managed to bridge up easily. The train was pretty fun, but not being able to see much of the lines ahead meant that riding became very reactive. Kind of like playing one of those old school four wheel drive arcade games.

 

On one of the rocky descents i heard a bit of a bang on the rear wheel. Didn’t think much of it. Then I heard the Pissing sound of air. Explicit deleted #$%^$#$@#..

I nursed the bike down the decent and through a little river. Jumped off and got a CO2 cartridge out. Tried giving it some juice and hoped it would seal up again. Explicit deleted. Explicit deleted. Explicit deleted. It’s fairly demoralising watching the field ride by while on the side of the track. Brett from Echelon cycles came by and tried to insist I take his bike, but not wanting to subject anyone else to the rookie tactic of not taking a spare tube I sent him on his way to deal to the field.

I could hear bangios as I realised I was in about the furthest spot away from anywhere. I walked back to the last marshall point I had past. Heard a few “dude your going the wrong way” calls. Classical stuff. I found some friendly marshalls including a mechanic, Bonus! I borrowed a pair of pliers and set to work on my rim.  It was a pretty tiny little dent, but causing issues by breaking the seal with the tire. I added some duct tape and began pumping like a got on heat with a little hand pump. The mechanic was a champ and helped out with some of the pumping duties by the tire wasn’t going up. I know how you feel grandma.

I resigned to the fact I was going get back riding and took a seat for some watching. The steady stream of bikers were rolling through, some with better cornering skills than other. I enjoyed seeing a different side of a race with people out to have a enjoyable day with other, chatting away down the trails and sharing crash stories. A bit different from the front end where conversation is held in grunts and internal cries of pain.

The marathoners started to roll through. Dam some of them were moving. I moved on to the next aid station which was a couple kms away. There i found a lovely couple and a 4x4 vehicle. I explained the problem and the guy whipped out a air compressor. Booyah. Excitement was soon lost when i found out it only had a Schrader valve. We macgyvered up a contraption with some tape but the dent in the rim was not allowing the tire to seal. Game Over.

I started evaluating options. I was just shy of 21 km into the ride. I could try and sneak a ride with an official but they were staying there until 4pm. It was about 10:30am. Now, I’m not a patient man at the best of times so the idea of sitting around for 5.5 hours sounded like death. The marshals kindly offered to tie my bike to the car and I could walk out. Walk pfftt.

Alright, better get on my way then. Equipped with nothing but my lycra and mtb shoes I was off. On what would be my longest ever run. I started off fast, since I was a bit agsti from sitting down and watching the race go by without me. I had to remind myself i had 27 km to go.

Offroad marathons are awesome. Good feel amongst the competitors. I suppose I was asking for it, running along in lycra with cleats making an absolute racket on the rocky trails, but I got a lot of comments. Ill give  you a list of the memorable ones:

“Lost your bike man”  “Yeah mate slipped down a creek”

 “Nice shoes” “thanks my podiatrist gave them to me. Really help my running form”

“Where your bike Bro” “Lost it man, dunno what happened”

“Aren’t you in the bike race?” “Nah man, Duathlon!”

The 42^nd traverse is an awesome run, really enjoyed it. The shoes were less than ideal, with a stiff sole and cleats that are not very comfortable to run in. On the upside, the stiff sole means by calf’s couldn’t do any work in the push off so remained minty fresh. I could feel a blister the size of a tennis ball forming itself and providing some excellent cushioning.

With about 2km to go the blister went and so did my spirit. Freshly exposed flesh grinding on the shoes was unpleasant, but only a few minutes to go. Finishing up in the Domain I helped myself to plenty of Vitasport and a beer. Though I deserved a beer after the day’s events. Next year it will have to be, especially after a good reccy of the course.

The marshals arriving back at the Domain was a classic moment. Picture a line of muddy four wheel drives rolling in to the domain doing what looked like a victory lap with a bike strapped to the bulbar like some sort of game prize. These men and women were the champions of the day.