Showing posts with label Taupo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taupo. Show all posts

Saturday, 30 November 2013

Taupo Enduro

1.00am on a side street in Taupo ... A gaggle of riders grows to a bunch and finally a throng but never quite a horde. All up, from 100 registered for the enduro; 95 start and 80 finish (5 presumably took one look at the forecast and stayed in bed; but no-one ever mentioned what happened to the other 15).


1am: is it breakfast or a midnight snack?


The organisers have you at the starting line in plenty of time to stand around contemplating how much you wish you hadn't missed that last 250km training ride and what a large number 320 is, however, no point fretting now.  The night is mild and the wind, which every knows is going to come, is for now quiet.  Retina-burning bike lights and flouro banish any night sight you might have had.


Get ready

Get set

Go (to the start)

Iona's friend Helen and riding companion Avril are in the starting grid and we chat briefly, the only other familiar face is Craig from tramping club.  He is not riding this year due to broken ribs and other injuries sustained after hitting a wombat (man can they fight when cornered).

After a cursory (and mostly patently obvious) safety briefing, the man with the hooter blows a blast and the field sets off with a clatter of shoes clipping into pedals.  Nervous energy is at last transformed into kinetic energy for the crucial first few kilometres where you have to make sure you get in the right bunch.

Rolling the clock back

It's hard to say when the idea first took form that two laps of the lake were even remotely feasible.  In retrospect it was probably the thought of doing a brevet and consequent to that; the realisation that in order to even contemplate such exertion I had better be able to knock off a solid day's road riding.

Angela had got a bit of a taste for road riding by then and didn't need any encouragement to sign up for a lap.  Richard was initially up for a double but then the reality of operating a family, a job, several voluntary commitments and a home brew empire saw him also committing to a single.  One more possible starter fell at the first hurdle but nevertheless we had our team and a house in Taupo booked.

I didn't tell many people that once wasn't going to be enough this year.  After all, if I failed to even complete the training it would be a little embarrassing.  Consequently, Angela was somewhat surprised on the Friday afternoon in Taupo that a) I was trying to get to bed by 6pm, and b) that this was because my start group was at a heinously early hour and c) that this was in order to fit in two laps.  And she thought my training rides were mad.

Anyway, long story short ... lots of training, many punctures, more chafe than you can shake a tub of vasoline at ... yahdee yahdee yah ... Fast forward to ...

Lap One

The throng of bikes whoosh out of Redoubt Street and down the hill to the bottom of the first wee climb.  At this point the tactics are: keep the pace up, get in a good bunch then stick with them as long as possible; drop to a slower bunch if the pace is too fast but, please god, not a solo first lap because that will be slow and burn too much energy.

Far ahead, a small bunch of lights disappear into the night marking the tails of the superhuman contingent.  No point trying to catch them.  A wee plug of effort and I pull in with a bunch and soon more riders join.  We end up with 20 or so pretty much for the entire lap including a tandem.

The night is pitch black with a occasional spats of drizzle.  Some of the smarter riders have their support crew stopping at regular points to replace their bottles.  Otherwise there is little to mark the passing kilometres.  The ride truncates into glimpses of familiar landmarks and the back wheel of the bike in front.  Down hills are somewhat exciting; roaring down in close formation with limited visibility and hoping nothing appears on the road in front of your wheel.

Every now and then a lone pink capped cyclist appears out of the gloom.  These are the four lap maxi riders and we pay them appropriate homage as we pass.

On the downs and the flats the tandem whistles off with riders trying to catch the wheel before the pack reels them back in on the next hill.  It provides a focal point for the group and is never far from the front.

It's still pitch black as the group climbs Kuratau hill - looking back from the top there is a string of brilliant cycle lights marking the line of the road.  At Waihi hill the front of the pack gets ahead and I have the presence of mind to put in the effort to make sure I catch a group on the flat straight to Tokanu.  Only a bit over 200km to go.

The new bike light is doing a sterling job on the lowest setting but the indicator light has gone from green to blue; whatever that means.  Still it's not red which would probably be bad.  In any event I am carrying a head torch that will work perfectly well (in the end the main light holds out fine with daylight catching us long before Hatepe hill).

Coming up the lake the wind has got up, buffeting us from the side (west) and the early light catches white caps on the lake.  An Aussie pulls up beside and says what I am thinking - the next lap might be a bit tough.

The pack is circulating well and I take my turns at the front.  But coming up Hatepe Hill I realise, almost too late, that it has started to separate and once more a bit of effort is required to catch the front group just as they are pulling away at the top.  For now it doesn't bear thinking about what it will feel like coming up here after another 160km.

The traditional head wind greets us on the way down the hill but at the back of the pack I tuck in away from the worst of it.  From here to Taupo the wind is boisterous but the bunch clips along before being decimated as a few of us peel off to replenish supplies/ go for a wee etc in the town.

Our accommodation is ideally situated just off the water front and it's a startled Sally that sees me pull in about 0620 (about 4hr 45 after starting and 45 minutes before she was expecting me).  Allowing another 5 minutes to reach the end of the lap this is almost 20 minutes faster than my best single lap; I don't think about what this says about the foolishness of over doing it on the first time round.

Angela and Iona have already left on their lap and Richard is just getting ready to think about sauntering down to the start line.  We compare notes as I cram a banana in and Sally does the pit crew thing (strip lights off the bike, replenish goody bag and water bottles, supply sunscreen etc).


Pit stop; counting the bike


And he's off (again)

It's a grey windy morning as I zigzag through town to avoid the starters on the main street and get to the start of ...

Lap two

Amongst the bikes cruising the streets I spot a lone enduro cap and catch him on the edge of town in the hope we can team up.  He must be tuckered after the first lap though as he drops behind on the rise out of Taupo.  Half way up, there is a roar from behind as the elite riders scream past up the hill.  They are absolutely flying and the sound of their tyres on the road is fearsome.  As they disappear in a twinkling of lycra clad bums, a green cap rider (8 laps) comes into view toiling up the hill.  He looks at me with wide eyes as I pass and says "F*** that was scary!"  Given that he has probably been hallucinating for the last two days that's really saying something.

The trip west across the top of the lake is hellish.  It's a strong head wind and the only riders in sight are group 9 (sort of like group W if you are familiar with Arlo Guthrie).  I catch up with four enduros; two team up for a while but when it dawns that they have been letting me lead for longer than is polite, I look back and realise they have dropped off some time ago.

The tail end of the group W riders are a sad but admirable bunch.  The first stragglers are mostly well padded and I wonder at the woman pushing her bike up a gentle rise after less than 20km.  Surely they wont be finishing within the cut off time but at the same time how incredibly brave to try.  Then there are the two people on unicycles and one on a penny farthing; they are making reasonable progress though and look like they are aware of what they are in for.

Around the first relay interchange (40ish K) the main race route rejoins the road I am on.  I'm hoping that there will be some of the early bunches coming through and if I can just catch one of those ...

The first bunch whistles around the corner when I'm about 100m away and disappears off up the hill - Bugger!!  I carry on alone whipping past increasingly spritely group W riders.

It's a long while before the next group comes through and I manage to catch their tail.  Things are looking up now but I have spent a lot of energy fighting the wind on my own.  After awhile I drop to the back and then let them get ahead.  A while later another group comes along and I hold them for a good distance, finally being spat out the back just before Kuratau hill.  It's very dispiriting to see 50 to 100 bikes riding away and not a damn thing you can do about it.

From then on it's pretty much solo, occasionally a pair and every now and then a bunch that I can hold onto for a few kilometres.

Finally it's the second drop down Waihi hill with no-one to get in the way and the utter relief of knowing that the worst of the hills are done with.  A passing single lapper gives a couple of kilometres respite but I drop off when I realise that I wont be able to share the lead.  It would be a bit rude to just be a leech.  

Another single lapper catches up and draughts me into Turangi and onto SH 1.  After a bit I get fed up and pull to the side and slow so that he has to take the front.  He gets the hint and we swap the lead for the next 15km.  Just as I'm about to drop behind a bunch catches and keeps things ticking along for a bit longer.  However for the last 40kms I have to let each bunch pass as there just isn't enough left in the tank to hold on.

I've just dropped off the back of the latest pack on the approach to Hatepe hill.  A pistol shot rings out and the rider behind and I simultaneously let loose the same expletive.  His back tyre has just blown and so is the only one in that bunch that I beat up the hill. It's the first time I have been completely out paced on this hill and when I get to the top I promise myself a stop at the drink station.  It's a chance to refill a bottle, lie flat for a few minutes and regather.  One of the woman keeps asking if I'm OK so I suspect I look a bit crap.

The wind is even stronger now and knocks riders around on the drop to the lake and along the shore to Taupo.  The start of the ten kilometre count down though is the point when it really is apparent that it's almost all over.

The gentle airport rise is ridiculously hard but then it's into the Taupo streets and there are plenty of sights to distract a tired mind from the complaints of tired legs.

Over the last rise the westerly careens gleefully along the straight and slap into the face of the riders.  The maximum speed left in the legs is just enough to get to the chute and then the crowd carries me to the finish (not literally - that would be cheating).

As usual, the end of these events is emotional.  From about 20km out finishing suddenly seems possible, at 10km it seems probable but there's still a bit of work to do, at about 3km it seems imminent if the body can just hold up.  For the last kilometre it is certain; anticipation builds to a peak, the line flicks by then everything crashes into overwhelming relief.  The normally stoic Richard confirms this when be returns from his ride; confessing to be close to a wee tear when he crossed the mat.

This time is no exception, as the line flicks by the loud speaker welcomes one of "our enduro riders", mispronounces my name and says I'm from Auckland.  I make a beeline for the pineapple while Sally rallies around with ministrations ready should they be needed.


Mr someone unpronounceable from Auckland


There are two things on mind now; a patch of grass to lie on and not moving my legs for a good wee while.




Results

I had set out with the stated aim of coming in below 12 hours and that I would be pretty happy with 11:30.  In training I had completed a loop in 5:30 (excluding a 20 minute break) mostly solo but had been shattered by the time I came around to Turangi again and stopped for the day.  On this basis there was a glimmer in the back of the mind that 11 might be a possibility but pretty unlikely.  On the lead up week the forecast wind didn't bode well for a good result.

The results on the web record my stats as:

10hr 52m 53s

18th of 80 enduro finishers
17th of 70 male finishers
7th of 35 in the male 45 to 54 division

But I choose to think that if I was a woman I would have come second.

But it's not actually all about me

Iona and Angela have decided to team up for their lap.  Iona is an experienced hand at this event but is notable for treating it with less respect than some might consider appropriate (ignoring start time groups, neglecting to scan her timing strip at the start, carrying a picnic, stopping for coffee ...) but enjoying the occasion and coming back for more. Angela on the other hand is a first timer and only aware how horrendous the western hills can be (but did conquer Hatepe in training).



In the end Angela discovers that those commutes up Ngauranga gorge have put more steel in her legs then she realised and although Iona sets the pace through the hills, Angela is anxious to push on for the end and leaves her to her second coffee at licorice cafe (around the 120km mark).  This is all after they are collectively told off for fronting up at 6am for a group they haven't registered for - still, the organisers aren't about to kick someone out of group W are they?

Angela's lap is interspersed with helpful people (including bystanders) diagnosing the noise from her bike and suggesting she should really get it seen to.  Iona on the other hand is asked if she has beer in her pannier ("yes if the price is right!").

Competitor 1270; leading the pack
The wind is strong up the lake but Angela has the bit between her teeth by now and keeps on despite the buffeting.  Rolling in to the finish she is greeted by her enthusiastic support crew (just) and is quite rightly proud of her achievement, trimming time off her training ride from Taupo to Turangi a few weeks back with 7hr 49m.

Richard wanders in looking not particularly tired but a bit sun burnt.  He has employed admirable tactics at the start, first by pushing into a higher start group ("Honestly sir, they had run out of stickers at the desk when I went to swap groups"), then by catching a fast bunch off the start and holding onto them for most of the ride and picking up the next group when he got spat out the back.

He has positively relished his first real taste of bunch riding; revelling in the close calls when drink bottles appear on the road out of the scrum of bikes in front; the roar of fast bunches scorching past and the adrenalin of travelling at 40+km/hr 6 inches behind the wheel in front with someone on each shoulder.  At 4hr 58m 26s his is an impressive debut.  He and Suzie head off for the hot pools to ease tired legs (Suzie having usefully used the day with a trail run up to Huka falls).

Angela, Mike and I potter around to Iona's motel to greet her and then Helen.  Helen has done the double for the second year and is (as last year) quite chipper.  We had met up briefly at the starting line but not since.  Her riding companion Avril turns out to have had an off after they got separated on the course, to the extent that St John's had to scrub out the gravel rash but not enough to keep her from finishing (apparently completely in character for her).

It is a very satisfied bunch that sit down to a very fine dinner (courtesy of Richard and Suzie) back at the house.  Richard, Angela and I have ridden further then we have ever ridden in a day in our lives before and all in better time than we had dared hope.

Iona and Col pop around a bit after 7pm for a social call but Toby is the only one not in bed so they quietly leave us to our twitching slumbers.

Taupo

Once again Taupo has out done itself.  The place is humming when we arrive early afternoon Friday after a leisurely drive up.  There are people everywhere busy on something to do with the cycle events.  And on the day they must have everyone in Taupo and their uncle directing traffic, holding flags, dispensing water, and doing the million other jobs required so that 9,000 odd cyclists can complete their personal event and get their personal time and be picked up in their personal ambulance should that be necessary.

Replete do a passable iced coffee (note the date on the cap)

Our accommodation (Tui House) is better than hoped for with a large double garage to work on bikes, heaps of space and designed such that the early risers don't need to disturb those still abed. It's about 100m off the water front so perfect to stop in between laps.

We potter out to pick up our registrations and wander through the stalls which are selling everything for those last minute cycling needs.  The Kennetts have a table with their books and we chat briefly with Paul and Jonathon.

The army band have come in for the weekend so Sally gets the benefit of their playing whilst waiting for weary cyclists at the finishing line on Saturday, she is also treated to the sights of the gent who ran for twenty minutes in bare feet to get his bike over the finishing line and another chap who finished then had to be carried to St John's with his no longer functional legs dangling below.  There's plenty of other entertainments available but we are quite self contained and our only social engagements are pottering around to the Acapulco motel where Iona and Col and Helen and Mandy are staying - somewhat of a tradition for them.

On the Sunday we complete what is another tradition - breakfast at Replete Cafe (nee Gusto cafe): early arrival, nab two tables and hold until reinforcements arrive.  It's good food and coffee and a nice bookend to the event.  Afterwards we disperse to various points of the compass in the southerly direction.

Comments, lessons and technical bits

Pace

The first lap was (for me) at a scorching pace and the second much slower with a hard,wrung out finish. Tactically it might have been smarter to get a slower group from the start but I doubt it would have been as efficient.  The thing that killed the second lap was having to do so much of it solo.  If I hadn't stopped between laps I may well have stayed with a group and got around the second lap in better time.  This would have required different support arrangements.  Ideally you would have supporters around the course on lap two but support vehicles are not supposed to be on the course at this point.

Hydration

Two bottles of water and one of electrolyte on lap one.  Two electrolytes and one water with a top up for lap two.  Seemed to work OK.  On a warmer day I would have wanted more electrolyte on lap two.  Practically this means having supporters en-route or carrying sachets and topping with water.

Nutrition

The nutrition plan was OK except for the reliance on One Square Meals (OSMs), here it is for future avoidance:
Mac cheese for dinner at 6pm ish.  No problems here.

Carbo loading


Two Weetbix and a little bit of muesli for brekky an hour before riding.  No problems here either.
Lap 1:  Two OSMs and two bumper bars chopped into bite size pieces (ate about two thirds), one banana.  Bars were a little hard to eat but pre-cutting worked well.
Half time:  Banana and water
Lap 2: Same for bars plus two bananas.  Couldn't eat much of the bars through feeling nauseous.   Bananas were good.  One gel for a bit of a pick me up for last 20k.

Bike

Merida Scultura Carbon fibre something or other.  Love it.  After training on a cast iron relic it's a dream to ride on the day.  If only I knew of a light weight seat that didn't feel like concrete after 200km and doesn't remove skin from tender places by the end of 320k.  Repair kit and two spare tubes in a seat bag (fortunately not required).  Bar bag for nibbles worked well.  Brand new Blaze bike light worked very well.  One charge was enough on low beam which was more than bright enough for road riding.  Very happy with performance, will see about durability.  Probably not suitable for brevets due to need to recharge. 

Clothing

The weather was not cold or forecast to be cold so I went light and everything was basically fine - the weather would have had to vary significantly from forecast to have been a problem ...

Bike shoes with out socks (as they are too tight and I'm too cheap to buy new shoes); worked fine, no rubbing and no squashing (which I get even with light socks) - I had booties standing by but left them at the house although other riders wore them.  Cheap Route 7 '8 panel' bike shorts; OK but felt a little like sandpaper from half way through lap two - (not sure what shorts wouldn't though - also see comments on bike seat).  Lap one top: marino shortsleeve top, light marino long sleeve base, light OR rain jacket, flouro vest; worked fine, only need to pull zip down on Hatepe. Lap 2 top: removed jacket and base, kept jacket in pocket - a bit cool when it drizzled but basically OK - didn't have to put the jacket on.  Gloves: mid-weight fingered - fine both laps.  Arm warmers could have been useful on lap two.

Training

Must have done just enough.  Given difference in lap times probably need to concentrate a bit more on stamina.  A 17 week schedule off a reasonable fitness base seemed to be about right and I tried to stick to it using my commute as the core with various interesting routes to spice it up, and a longer ride each weekend aiming for a good handful over 200km.  However things faded a bit in the last few weeks somewhat, including missing the final scheduled 250km ride.  A couple of bike tours were useful additions for time in the saddle and multi day riding (plus a bundle of fun that didn't feel like training).  Should really do more fartlek training (repeated bursts of effort) but can't rustle up the discipline.

Support

Last but not least ... not having to worry about pick up and drop offs, having things ready at half time, meals before and after sorted out, reminders of things which must not be forgotten (like applying chafe cream), waiting at the end in case legs don't work for walking any more ... all those myriad things that mean you can just think about getting the bike and body ready.  Priceless!  Last three years it was DIY for me but the support this time made a world of difference.  Also, of course, the company of comrade cyclists in adversity.

We wont mention the support team that arrived late at night waking their rider on the eve of the big event ... got up too late to see them off to the start then almost missed them at the finish line ... tsk tsk ; )

Saturday, 2 November 2013

Taupo training ride (again)

Solo road ride

It's getting close (four weeks) to the Taupo ride and I've been meaning to get at least one big ride in of over 250km including a couple of passes over the most hilly part of the course.  This weekend is it.

Sally very kindly volunteers to come and provide support which means we get to stay somewhere nice.  The Judge's Pool in Turangi is a good choice and considerably more private than the A Plus Sumarai Lodge Back Packers from two weeks back.

There's no drama getting out of Wellington and up to the motel shortly before midnight then straight into bed. The next morning we wake 11 hours and 56 minutes before the time for which I set the alarm (6.30 pm) and head up the road to Taupo.

A quick lube and tyre pump then Sally waves me off about 0800 and heads off in search of coffee. 

A quick lube,




And he's off

Judging by the photos she finds at least two sources of the brown nectar as well as Huka falls and numerous other spots to take pictures of the wee white car. 

Wee white car by coffee cart at lake

Huka falls


Huka falls

Huka falls car park

Lake view on way back to Turangi


I on the other hand am intending to follow the other route across the top of the lake this time but am a little vague about the correct turn off to get to SH 32.  Fortunately I catch a cyclist who knows the area and she points me in the direction of Marotiri Road.  Not before we pass a severely mashed ute that has just lost an argument with a milk tanker, which would explain the ambulance 10 minutes back. 

The first part of the course climbs steadily but reasonably gently for over 15 km; the air is decidedly cool and the westerly wind firm so the odd patch of sun is most welcome.  Having found Marotiri Road and navigated my way to the turn south onto SH 32 it's now the long haul down the western side of the lake.  It's 73km from the turn to Turangi and most of it is lumpy.

As the relentless series of hills roll by it's impossible not to think what it's going to be like climbing this latest rise after another 157km. The only break in the ride is when a bee bounces off my face, down my jacket and stings me on the arm, little bastard. Still, no magpie attacks today.

The weather stays cool throughout and the wind strong and mostly unhelpful, by the time I've scooted down Waihi Hill and into Turangi a little before midday, I'm ready for a warmer layer.

Sally is back at the Motel to feed me sandwiches and replace drink bottles as I lie on the bed and complain about my back, my bum and the wind. I stretch the rest out for a bit longer than strictly necessary so its about 1220 before I'm back on the road with a second Marino top. 

Motel in Turangi

Settling into my stride, a cyclist catches up and starts chatting.  Richard is also training and is completing a lap of the lake. His pace is slightly quicker than mine so we end up with a compromise somewhere in between as he seems keen on the company. 

He turns out to be quite the gun having won events in the past and completing Taupo in 4hr10 in 2007 when he last did it.  Truly impressive.  We take turns leading and although I give him the opportunity to leave me at Hatepe Hill we end up cruising up together.  As we make the final run into Taupo arriving around 1400 I can't help thinking how tired the pace is making me and what another 100km of hills is going to feel like.

Richard turns off to Acacia Bay after the short climb out of Taupo (and a bottle refill); I groan inwardly and start the climbing again.  The westerly has not dropped noticeably so it's a long grind and I promise myself a rest where Marotiri meets SH 32.  In the end I hold out until the Whangamata intersection where a farmer on a motor bike slows down to check whether the body on the side of the road might be in need of assistance.

The worst of the hills are still ahead but the total distance has whittled away to 63km, it's beginning to feel doable.

Eventually part way up one of the steeper climbs the wee white car hurtles past from the opposite direction.  Sally has had a snooze, done some shopping and has come up the lake to meet me via another photo stop or two.


Supposedly a picture of steam vents on a hill

My support crew administers replacement liquids, supplies some leggings against the declining temperature and agrees to meet me at the top of the next hill after 10km to see if a jacket is in order.  It's encouraging to have a chat and a brief lie down. 

Head down at top of steep bit

After a rest - still not very cheerful


A couple more rendezvous points and eventually it is the downhill at Waihi and, in the knowledge that there are no more hills and a flat run home I wave the support crew good bye.  The westerly is very helpful for the last 8km and it's an utter relief to dismount outside the unit after 264km of riding.

I'm not sure what was turning the pedals for the last wee while because all I can do is crawl on to the bed and lie there feeling nauseous.  It's some time before a shower is feasible and longer before dinner is possible.  Eventually I feel warm, vaguely human and able to stay awake long enough to get into bed.

Ohhhhwwwww


The next day starts sunny as we head off for breakfast at the Brown Sugar cafe in Taihape.  However, Taihape and Waioru seem to be the only places enjoying sunshine today and it's a cloudy trip home.  A couple of breaks keep the journey interesting; the Marino shop at Utiku just south of Taihape (some cool stuff here) and Liz Hardie's cafe in Foxton (spot the corrugated iron coffee cup sign on the left shortly after the Mobil) - a 'must stop' with a couple of interesting craft shops now co-located.

Sunday, 20 October 2013

Taupo - more training

Weekend around Taupo with Angela

I thought it was time to potter around the Taupo course to re-familiarise myself with all those hills, Angela was also keen so this weekend was duly set.

Friday away from work by 4.30 (OK; 5pm) and off up the coast via Lower Hutt to pick up my stuff.  For a change the traffic is light and it's a relatively quick trip to Levin New World for dinner and snacks.

We arrive at the intriguingly named "A Plus Samurai Lodge Backpackers" in Turangi by 10.30pm and check into our not very secure room (some kindly soul has kicked the door in at some point so the lock is more symbolic than secure).  The host is a little like the facility; a bit rough around the edges but fine for us ($96 for the room for two nights).  He suggests keeping the bikes in the room for safe keeping and gives a larger room to accommodate.  We set the alarm for a ridiculously early hour and crawl into our beds; I grab the bunk so I can spread kit all over the top bunk and gallantly cede to Angela the double bed closest to the door (and therefore any unwelcome guests).

After the normal morning routine sorting out essential kit for the day we head up the lake side for Taupo in the car.  Angela gets the benefit(?) of a pedal-by-pedal-stroke analysis of this part of the course with plenty of positive noises about Hatepe hill being: "about 2km from here and not as bad as everyone says."

Eventually we are parked up near the Tennis club and set off around 8.30 into a cloudy day. 

Just after the start ... Angela and giant bike
Angela has up loaded a course map from the Challenge website but it has bugger-all details and I'm a little vague about where we are supposed to turn off Pohipi Road.  Angela recognises the road name (Whangamata) whilst I am muttering about not recognising it from the last three years at all.  We follow it down towards Kinloch and it seems flatter and more down hill than I remember, then narrower and more up and downy as we head west towards SH 32.  It does however appear to be the course route for 2013 so either they have changed it from previous years or I'm developing Alzheimers; both are quite plausible explanations.

The turn-off to Kinloch marks about 20km in and it's all going swimmingly but then the little hills start; and there's quite a few.  As the course is running along the top of the lake it means jumping over the ridges between the streams that are flowing towards the lake.  The hills are short but steep and make it difficult to settle into a rhythm.  It's also straight into the westerly which is mercifully light.

We potter along and take a break after about 43km to apply sunscreen.  The clouds stay in the north and during the next hour we gradually leave them behind.

The backside (west) of the lake is hilly and somewhat unrelenting.  On a hot day the climbs just seem to keep on coming and even when you have been over the course a few times it still feels like they will never end.  It also doesn't help that you remember certain parts of the course and completely forget how much real-estate there is before the next bit you remember.  Hence Angela being told that after the grind to the top of the Kuratau hill there is a glorious down hill to the lake (which in fact is a small matter of 8km away).

71km in; top of another hill and time for a breather

We cruise down the windy hill (me trying to see whether you can do it without using your brakes - you can) and onto the flat at last.  It's about 7 km past the hot pools and over the tail race to the A plus Sumarai Lodge.  Angela has understandably had enough by now (having knocked off the hardest part of the course) and decides to give the (mostly) flat ride back to Taupo a miss (about 50km).

This leaves the dilemma of how to get the car back from Taupo and only one option.  I refill water bottles and head off up the lake.  It's fairly quick going and I push it up Hatepe arriving at the top fairly knackered.  Which is when a black and white bandit (probably sensing my weakness) swoops in and gives me a number of  hurry-along attacks from behind.  By the time I fish my pump out he's tired of the game so I put the pump away again which is when his mate decides to have a go.  Tempting as it sounds I suspect a spring loaded net canon mounted on the back of ones helmet would probably end in tears; you can see the headline: "Cyclist Crashes With Enraged Magpie Strapped To His Face."

As per tradition, it is a head wind off Hatepe hill which saps all the energy out of what should be a gravity assisted speed-fest.  The rest of the trip passes as expected although there is a distinct lack of cheering crowds and the indignity of having to stop at traffic lights in what should be the finishing chute.  About 1hr 40 after leaving Turangi I'm loading the bike on the car to head back to the digs.  It's been a 153.4 km loop according to the website Mapmyride.

After a soak in the hot pools and Chinese takeaways by the river in the setting sun we head back for an early night.

Sunday
Angela has unfinished business with the course so is keen to head up the road to knock off Hatepe (about 61km return).  I fancy doing the desert road and seeing how far south I can get before Angela catches up in the car and figure a head start is in order.

It's about 7.40 when I hit the road; cool in the shade but promising to be a hot day so I pack light and put up with the cold air for the first few hours.

The road climbs from lake level (about 360m) to a little under 1100m over about 40 km (it doesn't sound like much but it feels a bit relentless and some parts are steepish with some interesting gullies to navigate).  However once at the top the wind is light and it's a fast pace through to about 10km shy of Waioru where the wind picks up.

It's a cloudless day and the mountains are splendidly white against the blue sky.  It gets warmer and eventually Taihape rolls around (93km) I'm out of electrolyte so stop in at the supermarket, text Angela (no response - must be still cycling) and push on.

Mangaweka (with the plane and 'international airport') is a chance to sit in the grass, reapply sun screen and calculate when Angela is likely to turn up.  She has responded to my text at 11.37 ("Back at the car now.  Will leave soon") and I figure that she should catch up shortly behind my arrival in Hunterville (28km away).

In the end, Hunterville has disappeared behind and it's about 13km to Bulls when I am relieved to hear a cheerful toot from behind.  It's about 2pm and a bit over 166 km from Turangi so I've pretty much had enough for the day. We head to Mother Goose in Bulls for a good lunch and to swap stories.


They make a good iced coffee
All I have to relate is two more magpie attacks (Angela one) and lots of looking at white lines and pedalling with a few stiff hills to contend with.  Angela is quite casual about getting up Hatepe without resorting to her granny gear and even took the opportunity for some lake side photography.


Bike and
Angela by lake




















We're lucky with the traffic again and take just one stop (Swazi in Levin) before heading over the Paekakariki hill and home for family dinner.

Comment
I forget that the hills for the first 90km are quite different to riding in Wellington.  Although most are less than 100m there are plenty and they are certainly steep enough.  You can get some good hill climbing in Wellington but it's hard to string together a ride that gives you quite the same relentless series.  Although Angela was a bit down about the pace this should be viewed in the context of: no drafting (it's hard on the hills and I was keen to let her set the pace), there's a definite lift from the crowd on the day and there is still time to get a bit more training in.  After all, it was the hardest part of the course.










Course profile; sourced from Taupo Challenge Website.  Or it could be the heart rate monitor read out ... 

The ride on Sunday gave a good taste of the lake side riding which is likely to be in sizeable bunches on the day and picking off the one hill on that side has got to be good for morale.

Turangi to (almost) Bulls is one to do on a good day.  If the wind is unfavourable it would be pretty tough.  The road margins are generally ok although suffer from the normal roading engineer casual disregard for cyclists (no margins on passing lanes, rumble strips, rough seal etc).  The elevation maps don't really do it justice as it has about the same vertical metres of climb as the Taupo loop (1,170m) despite a lot of long flat straights.  Overall, I don't have any great desire to do it again from Waiouru but have enjoyed the desert road from both directions (being very fortunate with the weather).

Saturday, 24 November 2012

Taupo Cycle Challenge

Taupo Cycle Challenge

24 November 2012; 153 km
Solo (but staying with Iona, Helen and Andrew2 (riding) and Col and Mandy (not riding))

Most running or cycling events have their own attraction but I’ve never really understood those people that feel the drive to turn up at the same event year after year. Taupo is a little different though, mainly because it’s a fun weekend away with Iona, Col and friends, but it is also iconic (i.e. a great ride, good scenery and well organised).

The story so far …

Iona has done the event more than a handful of times and it sounded like a good day out in 2010 when there was space in their unit for an extra body so I thought I would give it a crack. There was sufficient warning to get a fair bit of training in but then I was silly enough to do the ride on a mountain bike. Admittedly it had aero bars, slicks and I’d removed all superfluous weight (including mud); but it was heavy and resulted in a fairly modest finish time. Still, there is some quiet satisfaction to be gained when you manage to overtake someone on a road bike.

The next year I was toying with going again but a work trip overseas intervened. On returning, three weeks before the race, it was a toss-up whether the necessary level of fitness could be achieved in the time available. However, there was a brand new road bike in the garage so the decision was made that if I could survive a loop over the Akatarawa’s, Paekakariki hill and Ngauranga then I would give it a crack. It turned out I could, so I did.

By the third time, you would think the; it’s-a-good-idea-to-start-training-early penny would have dropped. However it wasn’t to be. Training for the Abel Tasman run then a couple of week’s holiday in Australia meant that it was four weeks out before the road bike got dusted off. The test this time was a 115 km route from Wellington to Tawa via Makara, Moonshine, Whitemans valley and Haywards. Having survived this, an ad-hoc training schedule ensued including a couple more similar rides and riding up Belmont before breakfast for a couple of weeks. This plus a base level of running fitness would have to be enough to get by.

There was also something to prove. Year one was on a MTB so the time wasn’t flash; year two was horribly windy and arriving late for the start meant starting a long way down the chute and completing the ride with slower riders and no useful bunch riding. This year, I aimed to beat the previous time by selecting the appropriate start group (based on expected time) and turning up bright and early.

Getting there …

Extraction from Wellington on a Friday is generally hectic. Normally it is just the Friday traffic and work stuff. This time it is sad to be attending a friends mother's funeral in the morning. However, once the final work commitments are dispensed with I'm free to slap the bike on the rack for the drive north.

The trip is easy going. A brief stop at Foxton to support a friend's sister's cafe, a chat to the police in Taihape (a gentle warning to get supplementary plates as the bike obscures the one on the car); then comes that moment north of Taihape when Ruapehu suddenly bursts into view. It seems unlikely that a mountain can creep up on you but this one does. The day is summer but the mountain is most definitely still winter.

The volcanic plateau is reflecting the gold of the late afternoon sun and the volcanoes lurk spectacularly in the corner of the driver’s eye. There’s a bit of cloud about so it is not possible to tell if Tongariro is still giving off steam after its eruption earlier in the week. There is a whiff of sulphur in one of the gullies but that could be from a more local thermal area.

From Turangi the route joins the final 50 km of the cycle loop. This is an opportunity to study the road and work out where to “pop some gel” tomorrow. The car drifts up Hatepe hill a little more easily than the bike will and I’m in Taupo around 8 pm.

The Acapulco Motel is home for the weekend again. It’s more expensive then we need but very comfortable and the rooms have large spa baths with all the bells and whistles (including disco lights). Iona's friend Helen is doing two laps this year so she and Mandy head to bed early to be up for the 1.30 am race start. She plans to stop in for a rest and feed and Iona will join her for the second loop, sometime between 8 and 9.

On your marks …

Helen has disappeared quietly in the night whilst the rest of us get up at a more civilised hour and quietly go through our own routines. I’m down at the start by 7.30 and have an hour to wait before my group sets off. The morning is cool so I stand in a patch of sun in the chute trying not to think about toilets.

This is the time for ticking off final mental check lists although it’s a bit late if anything has been forgotten. Shirt pockets contain a light jacket, banana, three gels, a one square meal; and on the bike: 2 tubes, repair kit, pump and two water bottles (one with electrolyte). Let’s hope it’s enough.

A former work colleague turns up and we chat briefly. He is a local cyclist and, as well as training on these roads, has done the ride before so pushes up the chute to get into a faster bunch.

And they’re off …

This year I have a simple plan; go out a little harder and try to get some early bunch riding. I bear my mental teeth in anticipation. But from the start it is apparent that I am still a little too far back down the grid. The first part of the course climbs gently but consistently and there is a bit of wind but not too bad. The bunches form but tend to be too slow and break up on the hills. Still, there is enough to lighten the load a little.

There's the usual mix of experience amongst the riders with some making bunch riding very difficult with unpredictable riding styles. Many riders however are pleasant to be around. Around the 40 km mark, head down and in a world of my own: a voice suddenly says from over my shoulder; “you’re on fire!” There is a moment of confusion during which a sluggish mind drags itself back to reality; what could be burning? How did it happen? Do I need to do something?? The voice enlightens me: “you’re cracking along; I’ve been bludging off you for miles!” I reply that I may just call in the favour and he obliges good naturedly.

A number of such alliances form and dissolve along the way but all the way down the spine of the lake any bunch that forms founders on the next hill.

The day is starting to warm up and despite the gentle to firm wind I no longer feel envious of riders that have shirtless sleeves as well as sleeveless shirts (apparently they’re called arm-warmers).

By the way there are a few sobering reminders; an ambulance scrambles past or a drink bottle suddenly appears on the road out of the bunch in front. Bikes lurch, people point and the cry goes up “bottle!” I’m guessing it wouldn’t be fun to catch a front wheel on one. There are also an alarming number of riders repairing punctures.

From about 70 to 90 km there is little bunch riding occurring due to a bit of wind and the last of the real hills. However, after the Waihi down-hill-scream, everyone knows it is basically flat for a long time so cyclists start flocculating into large clumps. This is the first time I have really ridden any distance in a peloton and although it eases the load it is a little intimidating. There is only one moment when I really think someone is going to cause one of those Tour de France style mash ups.

The bunch clips along to Turangi then I take a turn at the front from the SH1 corner. The buggers are quite happy to tag along without sharing the load though, and when we eventually catch another group I get boxed in and soon find myself at the back. There's a lesson in there somewhere.

As already stated, I am not an experienced group rider but have discovered a few things: don’t get stuck behind someone that varies their speed or line (e.g. stands up to stretch their bum or wobbles as they extract goodies from their pockets); if you’re leading and pull up to a slower group, pull wide early unless you want to get boxed in as everyone else streams past; if you’re on the left of an inexperienced bunch you pretty much lose control over your destiny; if people don’t take turns at the front the whole thing slows down …

Anyway, it’s good to ease off in the pack for a while but it’s not quite fast enough so I figure I’ll bide my time then get in with any bunch that breaks away on the Hatepe hill. However, at the first rise around the bluffs the bunch slows a little too much and impatience wins. I nip up the inside, off the front and knock on alone taking the chance for a drink and (at the predetermined point) to suck down a sachet of gel; euphemistically labelled “Lime.” It has the consistency of KY jelly and is relentlessly sticky if you get it anywhere but in your mouth. But it does contain sufficient sugars and other substances to give a boost and stave off the cramps. By now the pelaton has dropped out of sight behind and various landmarks herald the Hatepe Hill.

A few words about Hatepe …

The Hatepe hill is etched in the chronicles of the race. It is not particularly high or steep but it stands on its own and riders often get there in the heat of the day. Being wide and open it has a curiously depressing psychological effect and there are always a few people trudging up with their bikes.

The day is hot and sunny now but I fool myself that the gel is having the advertised effects and crank my way upwards. Near the top you come across the other oddly depressing thing about Hatepe; it doesn’t seem to want to stop, the slope eases and eases and at some indeterminable point it is first slightly flat and then slightly downhill.

The final stages …

From the top you know it's about 20 km to the end and there are only a few small obstacles to overcome. Unfortunately there are no bunches forming so it’s a question of picking off solos and pairs, resting briefly before chasing the next. An Australian keeps company for a while and provides some welcome respite.

The road takes a long easy roll off the top of the hill (oddly it always seems to be a head wind here) then plunges suddenly down to the lake. Aussie and I clip along but the bunch in the distance seems to be doing the same speed. Figuring they'll slow on the airport rise, a bit of effort is applied and sure enough, the stragglers are there to be mopped up on the rise and a large bunch forms as riders drop down into town.

Now there are only two small rises to go and riders abandon any pretence of allowing cars to pass. At the first rise, the bunch slows just enough to slip into the front third for the run up to the next. This is the time to keep well clear of the left. There’s just enough space to squeeze up the yellow middle lines and pull to the front at the brow. There is a little confusion with some slower bikes and I don’t look to see if anyone is on my tail as we head down to the water front.

It seems an awfully long way along motel-mile to the finishing straight. Not keen to be sucked back into the mess of bikes, it is time (as they say) to “leave it all on the road.”

The last few features of the ride flick by: the tiny rise on the water front; increasing numbers of people cheering the riders; the first of the shops; the start of the crowd barriers; the right angle bend into the finishing straight; a bus … “What the #$@%?” … it just manages to lumber out of the way, then it’s the last few hundred meters and, not a moment too soon; the timing strips. The crowd is gratifying generous with its applause for all riders.

The aftermath …

I never quite get used to that little period at the end when you realise it’s all over. There’s the mix of emotions whilst you run the physical checks to see if you’re going to be sick, collapse or otherwise embarrass yourself. Fortunately all systems are go, so I grab some pineapple and an ice block. Someone from Dad’s church introduces himself (Harris?) and I hope that I have observed the necessary social niceties (and that I hadn’t cut him off in the pack).

Taking stock; I’ve eaten half a one-square-meal, a banana, a gel pack and drunk about 1.4L. Not really enough and lucky it was cold for the start. Next time I might carry a little more water; maybe get one of those back-of-seat double bottle holders.

I find the long way back to the motel (i.e. take a wrong turn); fill up the spa bath and stretch cramping legs amongst the bubbles. Mick Jagger urges me to get offa his cloud and I text my satisfaction to all in sundry.

Being the earliest to start I have plenty of time to get clean and wrinkly before Iona texts; firstly that they are at Licorice café (40ish Ks to go) and finally that they’re back.

Helen pulls in and is surprisingly chipper; you wouldn’t think she had even gone around once. However, that is a story that Iona should tell. So over to her …

Iona and Helen’s story …

Helen and I set off at a time unfortunately unremarked by either of us. Dropping in to the Caltex for Helen to swipe her transponder, we proceed round the back streets to join the course at the roundabout on SH1 (or is it still SH1 now that there’s a bypass?).

Helen’s feeling fresh after a shower and breakfast despite having cycled since 1.30am, with only a stop at Turangi for coffee and a banana smoothie (courtesy of Mandy’s delivery service). Having seen the sky lighten as she negotiated Waihi hill, she had the pleasure of sunrising lake views as she powered up the lake side for her first shot at Hatepe.

Now she’s keen to get some miles under the tyres before we hit the main crowds. It’s pretty clear going as we miss any start groups on the first hill and head west past groups of excitable kids and a strange selection of red-clad cheerleaders, obviously from one workplace- maybe it’s their community service plan? The enduro and relay riders take a slightly longer route so we enjoy the relative solitude and the cool morning air on the hills that take us to the highest point of the course in its top western corner. I even have a chance to take the lead for some of the distance.

Re-joining the main route just past the first relay transition we come across the first of many slow bunches and Helen’s impressive overtaking skills come to the fore. Shaming everyone with her yellow enduro cap, she pushes through and past them on every hill, and skims round the outside on the downhills. I can keep up with her easily enough but it requires constant concentration keeping an eye on where she’s up to whilst avoiding the back wheels and wild conversational wobbles of those directly in front of me.

One of the things that makes Taupo such an entertaining ride is the social encounters on the way round. Everyone’s labelled with their name (or at least the one they’ve chosen for the ride) and their domicile. It’s hard to resist the temptation to cry out “George Bryant! Fancy seeing YOU here!” as you pass random strangers. One chap asks if I’m related to Aidan but doesn’t’ want to pursue the conversation further…wonder what THAT’s about?! Helen tries to engage a man riding the same model bike as her in a conversation about it and he resolutely resists engagement. She has more success with a couple of her enduro colleagues, their yellow caps bobbing in companionable unison.

Wishing to avoid the chaos of the halfway transition, we stop in at the drink station just prior to it. Mild chaos reigns, but it’s a quick pit stop to shovel in bananas and pee in the as-yet tolerable portaloos. This spot is famous for our sighting last year of Buck Shelford cruising in then falling over before getting his feet free.

Whizzing by the transition point is made more enjoyable by the slight anxiety about inept relay riders launching themselves like wilderbeests into the fray. Waihi hill is a breeze for Helen the second time round and I lose her near the top. It’s a great run down, with few riders to impede my no-brakes descent. On the flat I annoy an Australian with the noise of my pannier bag and he drops behind to avoid it. The bag has been a source of great amusement to many, getting nearly as many comments as Helen’s enduro status…comments she is well tired of, to the point of considering removing it.

A short breather before the final dash …

The licorice café is a welcome sight; Helen has just started on her coffee having texted Mandy in advance, and mine’s waiting on the table. Andrew2 (Helen’s brother) turns up on his bike soon afterwards and we re-slather ourselves in sunscreen while shovelling coffee and all available food items in. A quick visit to the salubrious loos and we’re off again.

Andrew2 has been tasked with dragging Helen for the last 40 km into Taupo. This soon proves to be needless as Helen starts zipping past any bunch in her way….and there are many. We lose Andrew2 and I manage to keep up by imitating Helen and keeping a weather eye out for vehicles coming up behind. Just before Hatepe I let her go and cruise in the shade of the gum trees while cooling my head.

The hill has its usual littering of walking cyclists and others swerving all over the lane having made ill-advised gear changes. I contemplate asking the Pedal Pushers guys at their usual position halfway up the hill how far ahead Helen is, but am distracted by Andrew2 passing me with a cheery comment. I wish him luck in catching his sister.

Just over the crest of that crest-less hill, Col and Mandy are waving from their park on the side of the road. It’s all pretty much downhill from here but for the seventh year in a row the wind prevents a speedy trip down Hatepe. I manage to get up to 62km/hr but not without having to pedal furiously. The bikes are more spread out now, and it’s easy to pass the single file as we thread into the town and along the waterfront.

A certain camaraderie arises among the riders (at least those that can still speak), and yet again I’m left wondering if I should have perhaps made some effort to “leave it all on the road.” Nah, I like the fact that I can enjoy the views of the lake as the road leads down and round the corner into the chute of shouting. The others are still eating their ice-blocks and I join them with my pineapple before we wend our way through the crowds and back to the hotel.

The shower is somehow more tempting than the whirlpool bath with coloured lights and music, but I think I use just as much water as I try and prise off the layers of sunscreen and sweat. What a great feeling! I make sure to tell Col that if I even mention riding around twice next year, she must remind me that I should not do it….once is enough, and once is a wonderful ride.

Postres …

It’s a happy bunch that convenes for venison stock pot, custard, fruit and a single malt or two after. Bragging rights of course go to Helen, what a legend.
Naturally, bed time is early and most of us have one of those too-knackered-to-sleep-well nights.

The next morning starts early for those that want to watch the rugby. Then we convene at Replete café for what has become a traditional breakfast. The advance guard of one arrives in time to nab the best table and squats there nursing a cup of coffee and glowering at potential table-nappers until the others show up.

All over for another year and the trip home passes quickly: new socks in Taihape, coffee and slice in Foxton and some Swazi tops in Otaki. Finally, a quick nip over Paekak hill with no slow traffic.

Next year? Each year so far I’ve said “maybe” and ended up deciding to go near the last minute. The trouble is that with advancing decrepitude the chance of paring back my time looks slim. Still with a bit more training and a better start bunch … maybe I will come back in 2013.

For the record; my times so far …

2010: 6 hr 07 (MTB)
2011: 5 hr 33 (Windy)
2012: 5 hr 08 (no excuses)