SandgropAR arrived in South Africa on Thursday coming from both Perth (3 members) and London. Dan from London encountered some major dramas at Joburg with a missed flight and wayward luggage, but eventually met up with everyone else at Durban for a stress-free wait for the resort transfer. We had the pleasure of sharing some time with Tecnu team members which was good, as during the race, other than a glance as they whizzed by us after a late tracker retrieval, we had no hope of seeing them again!
The resort was a stunning setting, with views across the ocean, and some seriously good food at the resort restaurant (we could not get enough of the shakes and smoothies). After settling in, and a sleep, we joined several other teams on an “easy” morning ride up to a coffee plantation – after all we had been told Seagate had done this a day earlier, so it made sense that we would emulate the experts! The often single track climbs had our sweat breaking out, and allowed us to see just how defined the calf muscles were on our fancied rivals legs – obviously we were behind them! When arriving eventually at the plantation shop, we were offered the option to ride a trail for 45mins, or sit in the café and enjoy a second breakfast and a drink – naturally we chose the hard training option and sat in the café.
With full bellies we had a nice fast ride back into Port Edward, and we later spent a solid 3-4 hours making up our “award winning” bike boxes, constructed with the precision of a team of engineers – well one of us was an engineer – before over the rest of the day (and the next) sorting and packing supplies for the race. Our 2 newbie members had been sure to pack provisions for a expedition of both South Africa and most of the remaining continent, so some realisation about not being able to get the lid closed on the supply tubs, and some sacrificing of 3 or 4 hundred energy bars, and we were sorted!
After another solid nights sleep we woke Saturday with a list of race tasks, one we looked forward to was teaching a local South African child some kayaking skills. We were introduced to Mandy and headed down to the beach with our kayak – on the way learning that she could not swim and was a bit scared of the water. Looking out at the crashing surf and back at the less than enthusiastic face of Mandy, we decided to take her into the placid lagoon instead, where other than freezing your toes off in the cold water, there was not much danger (well until Grant stood on a large thorn that went about an inch into his foot – lets call that mishap number 1!). Several teams eventually joined us as no doubt drowning a South African child may cause some problems for the race organisers!
After about an hour, the kids were called in and we bid farewell to Mandy, hopefully having imparted some of the finer points of kayaking to her, and if nothing else, we had returned her in one piece, and the experience left us all smiling! The call was then made to practice paddling into the surf in preparation for race start the next morning (little were we to know the surf would be even bigger the next day). Grant and I did the first stint, and got promptly knocked off the boat by a large wave. Whilst clambering back into the boat, I heard a crack and felt immediate pain in my right ribs – this was mishap number 2, and was (as I later found out) me breaking a rib next to where my previous broken rib had just healed. Unperturbed by such a “minor” injury, we finished the paddle, and both Wendy and I and then Grant and Shane did a run each out and back – most notably was Wendy’s superb work on our surf back in as she propellered us back to shore on the crest of a wave.
The rest of Saturday was spent doing gear checks and having our card signed by the different check stations so that we could officially start the race the next day. Dinner was a buffet of carb loading delights, and once again delicious thanks to the Port Edward Resort.
The Race – Day 1
Race morning, up at 5am, dropping off boxes and gear bags to various locations, and carting our 2 x kayaks down to place between the flags spread across the beach. It was dark when we took the boats down, and we were first, so thought ourselves very clever in positioning our boats closest to what would be a right hand turn after heading out to sea. Unfortunately, as became obvious when we returned in the daylight, it was also the place closet to the large sets of rocks, and the subsequent big waves breaking nearby. After much discussion we managed to shift them a nominal 10 boats further away into a spare space – and were calmed a bit by seeing Seagate nearby – hey that must be a good thing right? Apparently though, Seagate had spent more than a single run practicing launching into the surf, and we were to find that practice makes perfect – or at least makes less times you are swimming after your capsized boat!
At around 7:15am, the start horn sounded, and 80 x kayaks were being dragged into the angry surf by 160 energetic adventure racers. Our team got going well, but it seemed in front of us that the large waves sets were not about to cease anytime soon (I am still half convinced Stephan waited for the biggest waves to come before starting the race). As we approached the last line of breakers, we rode up the face of a wave that promptly flipped our kayak nose over tail and dumped Wendy and I into the surf. Swimming after a boat being dragged away by a wave whilst holding a paddle and dealing with a broken rib is not a sport I would recommend.After tasting a few salty mouthfuls of Indian ocean water, we scrambled back aboard, but had lost sight of our team mates. Off for the second attempt, we paddled out through a scene from James Cameron’s Titanic with bodies in life vests scattered all through the water amongst upturned boats. Just as we were about to clear the final breaker, we were hit broadside by a jettisoned kayak and we continued our “rinse and spin” cycle yet again. In all, it took 4 x attempts to clear the waves, and we were happy to be reunited with our other 2 x team members safely bobbing over the large swell in their kayak past the waves.
Fortunately we did not see the white pointer shark that others did, though Wendy may have helped attract it as her sea sickness had resulted in a contribution of stomach contents into the water. We paddled on, Wendy doing well to keep further contributions down as we rode large swells along the coast before the welcome turn back to shore. Aware we were once again entering the land of raging waves, I kept a weary eye over my shoulder to avoid paddling us into the path of a tidal giant – our team mates, some 3 boat lengths ahead, were not so fortunate, and as we pulled back off a large crest, we saw it close on top of them and then we just saw foam and 2 heads and an empty boat. Time now for Wendy and Dan’s masterclass in kayak surfing (and a little bit of luck) as we had the only medium sized wave seen all day come from behind, which we then rode all the way to the satisfying sound of sand hitting the nose of the boat on the shore. Standing in triumphant delight, we turned to see the familiar scene of people and boats scattered through the wave zone, but at least this time everyone was going with the surf rather than against it.
A short run across the sand bar, and back into the water and the short paddle to pick up our packs and tracker – fortunately we had not had to have these with us in the ocean, as they would now be drifting somewhere in the Indian ocean, or have become home to some local fish. We then headed upstream for the first trek section, and with the enthusiasm of hardened adventure racers, or with the delusion of such that comes with a head full of sea water, we started doing 50 stroke efforts to overtake other teams. We did get past a few, and most satisfyingly managed to go past the other West Australian team “Havacrack” though this was to be the only time we were in front of them in the race – luckily we managed to shout some trash talk at our only opportunity!
Going ashore in a land of long reeds – note that at various points in the race we were walking through long grass or reeds with full knowledge that according to the locals there were frequent sightings of “Black Mamba” snakes! We were moving at what I thought was a good pace until 3 x teams came up behind us and wanted to get past. As we let them through, we then spent the rest of the upward climb behind them as they ended up not being any faster than us, and this did contribute to our first nav error. As we crested the climb following the butts of other racers, and with our caps on we managed the unthinkable and walked straight past the obvious checkpoint painted on the big rock right in front of us. This had a knock on effect later in the race, as we walked on for a further 15mins before conceding we had missed the CP, so another 15mins back to get it, and passed by about 5 teams in the process (when we got to the abseil long wait, we had about 6 teams in front of us). Despite that early hiccup, we went along quite well, and once descending again to the valley floor, we did some fancy footwork to cross over the river and make a speedy route along the side. Eventually we had to cross back over and saw way up ahead a team walking across the river. We however missed the “magic” walkway, which was hidden by waist deep brown water, and instead chose to hug a muddy bank like desperate monkeys until we eventually fell into the deep water and had to swim across to the other side.
After some more walking through chest high reeds thinking about snakes, we managed to make it back to our kayaks, and we were once again heading back to the first transition – though efforts were out of the question as my ribs were not at all happy with life at that time. Knowing that the abseil was a potential bottle neck, we had planned to get through the transition fairly quickly, but our bodies had other ideas, and we all spent some time TLCing our feet and changing our clothes and also prepping our supplies for the very long trek and canyoning section ahead. There was also the issue of sorting out the large number of maps for the long trek, and this took a long time to mark up and get ready, so by the time we left TA, it was mid afternoon and many teams had moved ahead of us.
We went at the best pace we could, and although arriving at the abseil in good light, our worst fears were realised when we saw the lines of teams waiting a turn to go down the 90 metre face. Unfortunately it was too early in the race for a sleep, so time was spent drying out feet/socks, and chatting to other teams. Darkness came, and after a couple of hours we were finally getting into position. At this point mishap number 3 occurred, as silly me thinking that a broken rib was not enough of a challenge then managed to stuff up the start of the abseil, and lost my footing at the ledge – end result, a 3 foot butt slam into the rock ledge below! Later diagnosed by medical with a severely bruised coccyx and lower back, this was a very painful accident that almost finished me for the race, and resulted in the next 5 days being spent in constant pain (though I was not the only one).
As far as abseils go, this was more of a jungle descent, as for some reason, the rope guys had weaved the rope through a lot of trees and bushes growing out of the cliff. This meant that rather than just abseiling down in the dark, you also had to stop and dangle one handed whilst trying to untangle the rope below you from one or more tree branches. Pot luck on which rope you got (there were four) but I had definitely got the dodgy route, highlighted at the point where I was hanging upside down with my right foot caught in a vine and the rope below me twisted through some tree foliage. Anyway, somehow we all managed to make it down in one piece, albeit with a lot more struggle than was expected of an abseil. From the bottom, we crossed another river, before expertly picking the trail up the other side in the dark, and then on summiting heading back towards the sea, where we went on a mammoth beach trek to the next checkpoint.
After some great nav work from Shane we came upon what can only be described as the most luxurious CP I had ever seen. At first we thought we were in heaven as we found proper toilets at the CP, but after a nice sit down with actual toilet paper, we then discovered that in the main building there was an open bar area with soft couches and drinks for sale! Well, this was the first purchase of the magic adventure racing elixir that is Coke – cold and fizzy and full of sugar and a bit of caffeine it really hit the spot! We found a place to sit amongst some pretty strung out looking teams and took some time out as Grant and Wendy tended to their blistered feet. After securing some more drinking water, and resisting the temptation to stay for a week sleeping on the couches, we headed back out into the night to continue the trek.
Day 2
There was a lot of walking! As night turned back into day, we had passed a couple of teams wisely sleeping on the side of the trails, and were soon on roads of varying quality making our way inevitably to the canyoning. The days were pretty warm despite the time of year, and as the sun rose, everyone was feeling pretty hot. Team members were stripping off to only wear the race bib on the top half, Wendy retaining a sports bra top for modesty, and we picked up some pace as we started to pass other teams looking in a sorry state due to foot issues and tiredness. Of course as you learn in adventure races, what goes around comes around, and later we were to be the ones being passed!
After taking an interesting route interpretation towards the next CP, we summited a hill to be faced with some poor farmers cultivated land – I say poor farmer, because I don’t think he would have been expecting 4 x grotty racers to go tromping – as delicately as possible mind you – though his crops. As I followed the others through the sowed fields and under barbed wire fences, I kept waiting to be yelled at, or possibly speared by an annoyed South African farmer. Fortunately we made it through undetected (or ignored) and got to the next hill top for the CP. A team we had passed earlier with foot problems then appeared moments later, so guessing our line was not optimal though we did stop at a shop for more coke! But we were still on track and in terms of race position were sitting just outside the top 10, so life was good – for now.
After some more trekking and nicely performing the role of “follow the leader” to teams behind us who could cut corners based on our position, we came to the dreaded canyon. At that time though, we did not know it was dreaded, and the term “dry canyon” as explained at race briefing, had us thinking of a nice 6 km rock hop along a river bed to the next CP. Obviously dry canyon means something else in South Africa, as when we reached the bottom of the valley (big points here to our team who managed to find the ridge CP in the half dark while other teams staggered lost in the bushes) we were faced with lots of water, cold water, and sections where large rocks had closed the route, and the only option was to either swim/jump into deep pools or clamber around in the dense vine and thorn ridden valley sides. In mind to not suffer hypothermia or broken bones, we made the decision to clamber around a lot of the blockages, which in the dark under head torches was very difficult. As other teams caught up to us and passed us, we could hear more and more shouting up ahead as many went up the sides and got trapped in the bush. South African teams did not seem to suffer the same problems, and romped past us and into the night without too many issues. We, on the other hand, were to spend some 13hours in the canyon from hell, only emerging out the other end in the light of day 3. Having not slept at all before the canyon, so suffering some great hallucinations and balance issues, combined with the slippery rocks and the darkness making the task incredibly difficult.
Day 3
Still what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and although strength was not very evident in any of us as we emerged to be photographed at our sleep deprived best, we did manage to smile, and then stagger down to the TA for some rest. We decided after 52 hours we should have a sleep, so a generous 3 hours was allocated in the tents laid out complete with mattresses! First though, another great luxury, a full cooked breakfast at the resort! With full bellies we all staggered off to get some shut eye. Unfortunately my sleep was interrupted as the shaded tent I passed out in ended up in full sun, so I crawled out looking I’m sure very much like a flesh eating zombie, after less than 2 hours feeling like I had been put in with the Sunday roast. Oh well, up now, and shortly followed by the other team mates, we started the task of getting sorted for the bike leg.
We got the bikes out of our snazzy bike boxes and put them together with little fuss, then took them back to the transition area so we could get our supplies ready and sort more maps out for the 150kms ahead. Also at this time we paid a visit to the race medic, where my injuries were propped up with magic gel and some quality pain killers, and Wendy found she had also badly injured her intercostal muscles near her ribcage during a spill in the canyon (more magic gel required), and Grant had his foot mummified after some slicing and dicing to remove a nasty blister. Map prep again took a long time, but better to be well planned than heading off the wrong way, and the four of us split jobs like ruling north lines, cutting maps, marking CP’s and plotting route. Somewhere amongst this seemingly efficient process, a couple of things happened – first we decided that the nice road going to the first CP was far too easy to follow, and plotted our route up a steep boulder strewn trail (arrived at after about an hour pushing our bikes through long grass on hillsides while being accompanied by a local villager who probably wondered why we were there).
After that nightmare where new bikes became old bikes as they were clambered and scraped over rocks, we re-found the road, and set up a four man tow as we approached the upcoming camera van so we could look professional if only for a minute. As usual the camera guys were great in shouting encouragement and we felt pretty good as we nav’d to the next CP easily. Of course then when we came back past the camera van and there was no shouting, and later realised that they were likely pretty confused as to why we were the only team back tracking from the CP. After some smooth riding along some roads and through a village we entered a more significant township, where the sight of petrol stations meant only one thing – more Coke! Another team was there as we pulled up, and as a bonus to the coke, the petrol station also sold pies – and not just any ordinary pie, but one that was a cheeseburger inside a pie casing – mad! Happiness upon ordering this god sent food was shortly tempered as the other team asked how we had got on finding CP18 as they had some trouble locating it. CP18?? Oh, a check of the maps and we had forgot to include CP18 in our route plan, so now we had a 10km ride back to find it, but at least that meant we would have to come back past the petrol station again – more Coke!
Shortly after coming back through town, and arriving at the next CP, I spotted a good place to pull over and get out of sight for a 90min sleep. Apparently not the only one to think so, as we were joined by another team later, and heard another team was sleeping just uphill of us too. Glad at this point to discover that our grapefruit sized ultra light sleeping bags were good enough to keep us warm, though Grant had some trouble getting to sleep as he could hear the locals talking around us, and wondered if they were discussing the best way to cook us for dinner! I would like to say that you wake up feeling refreshed from these sort of sleeps, but sadly that is not the case, and weary bodies move like pushing through treacle as sleeping bags are wrapped back up and we clamber back onto the bikes still exhausted. Off into the night we continued.
Day 4
Either because of our earlier route mishap, or just because uncertainty begins to creep in after a few days of lack of sleep, we started taking long stops to check and recheck maps and direction. This did however result in us not taking any more wrong turns or routes, though one scramble into a gorge and the long steep ride back out was not much fun. Again the heat was mounting, and water supplies were running low, so we resorted to filling bottles up at a small stream where mine came out decidedly brown. We then rode on wishing for 30mins to pass (the time it takes the tablets to make the water safe to drink) before some welcome wetness on the lips, albeit tasting of delicious South African mud.
As we approached the next TA for the kayak, despite my dirty water fill up, I was feeling very dehydrated so scooted off in front of the team with my only vision that of the fresh water at the TA. Here in a large tent we found our bike boxes and a re-supply crate, and our kayak wet bag with our kayak stuff in it. Our transition was not particularly fast, but some time out to drink, and eat and get bikes stowed away and sort out the kayak gear etc took a while. Unfortunately we lost most of the daylight by the time we started to try and lug these heavy boats the 1km down to the river. Ignoring the attention of several small village children attempting to help us in some way – maybe we should have paid them 100 Rand to carry our boats as they were very awkward – we eventually got to the river launch exhausted and pretty much in the dark.
With 1 x head lamp per boat, we set about navigating down the low river, and despite our best efforts, managed to run dry on sand banks about 7 or 8 times – which given the lack of being able to see was not a bad effort. Towards the end of this paddle, sleep monsters had started to grab Wendy and every now and then our kayak would slew to the left as she had fallen asleep behind me while paddling. At one point while leading the other boat, I had managed to turn us around 180deg while still thinking I was going the same way, so no-one was immune to the sleep monster! It was also pretty cold during the kayak, and every time we had to get out and drag the boat, we got a bit colder. When we eventually got to the next TA – about 3hours – both Shane and I were shivering uncontrollably, so were very thankful of the hot showers at hand in the resort.
As always the friendly welcome by the race volunteers made us feel much better than we had any right to, and before another 3 hour sleep in the tents, we were treated to a South African delicacy of peanut butter and syrup on toast. Between that and a tin of chicken noodle soup I was able to heat up in the microwave, my body started to feel better, though at the same time, unknown to anyone yet, a couple of our team were about to suffer some of the issues other teams had been experiencing around us.
Day 5
We awoke at around 4am to start the final trek leg – second last leg of the race. On paper looked ok, just a leisurely 40km stroll with the start being an almost vertical clamber up a steep hillside. About 5mins into this trek, Grant began part one of his epic projectile ejection of his stomach contents. Many small insects and bugs most likely lost their lives as they were drowned in a mixture of freeze dried dinner meal and pre-digested energy bars and nuts. Another team came up behind us but Grant was nice enough not to put anything on the trail for them to step in.
After a few rest stops to make sure everyone was feeling ok, we half followed and half nav’d our way to the summit, only to find that the peaks name “devils bite” was so called as there was a large cut out running through the middle of the peak – and of course, in the dark, we were on the opposite side to the CP! With Grant and now Shane feeling a bit worse for wear, we decided the best course of action was to take a 1 hour nap amongst the rocks until dawn, when we could use the light to get around to where we needed to be. We managed this after some sideways scrambling and eagle eye Wendy spotting the best route around, so were relieved to get that CP and then start the trek down the hill side. With light now on our side, we were able, with only a few loose ends, to follow some local trails down and through some thick bush to the road below. As we climbed up a small hill in the glorious sunshine, Shane began to feel pretty unwell, and at the summit he collapsed on the side of the road.
After allowing some time out for a sleep, we tried to get him moving and drinking, but things had shut down and Shane was in a bit of trouble. After a couple of hours during which time the Irish team passed us and suggested we put Shanes bib on a nearby goat (bloody Irish!) we thought it best to move Shane on a bit, into some shade and also the cool water of the upcoming river crossing – also the next CP. It took a long time to get a stricken Shane to the river, and his personal struggle against the desire to just lay down was admirable. Our snail pace progress was allowing more and more teams to pass us, and making the chances of us finishing the race more and more unlikely. But there was still hope as Shane stripped off and submersed himself in the cold river water. After some time spent here, we tried to push on, but got no further than the next beach head when Shane was done, and in view of safety, we decided we needed to go back and call for some assistance.
A nice volunteer came in a van to pick us up, and we were ferried back to the previous TA where the medics diagnosed Shane with severe dehydration (there were already 2 other racers in care with the same issue plus one with hypothermia). In these situations you are hit with two feelings – one relief in that you can stop torturing your body, but also disappointment in not being able to continue. As a team though, it was better to ensure everyone was safe and we all felt for Shane as he lay motionless on the mattress unable to enjoy any of the toasted sandwiches and chips we were now munching into.
As evening fell, we got word that we and three other teams were to be transported to the next TA – where we would have been had we finished the trek – and from there we could ride a shortened bike course to the finish (just 160km instead of 230km). We all piled into a mini bus – after some delicious pizza held up our departure but was very much worth it – and had about a 1 ½ hour journey ahead. Somewhere during this, while seeing everyone else on the bus asleep, I had dozed off, only at some point awaking as I was being pushed out of the van door, and coming to my senses as Grant enacted part 2 of his “Chunder from down under” into the South African night. I’m not clear on if it was part one or part two where poor Shanes compass became inundated with Grants stomach contents, but either way he was not too happy.
Day 6
Arriving at the TA we realised it was the same place we had left on the bikes a couple of days earlier – and we quickly made our way to the tents to get some sleep while Shane was ferried off to a room to be put on an IV drip. Sleep was a welcome reprieve, and around 6am I woke to stagger up to the main office to be greeted by Stephan wanting to know what our team was doing. In a moment of pure insanity, I said we were keen to do the 160km bike leg, maybe also because I felt bad to give up and Stephan promised us a proper finish that way. With Grant feeling better, and Wendy strongly wanting to finish the race, we set about packing away a good breakfast and getting energy into our tired bodies for this last leg. As we were now unranked and part of the sore and sorry patched up team brigade, Stephan had kindly drawn the optimal route onto the waiting master maps. We transferred these across to our own maps, and I put my hand up to do the navigation for this final section.
We left around 10am, another beautiful day, maybe made more so by the knowledge that we would soon be finished the race. The start of the leg was a stunning ride along the hard beach sand in the morning sun, just a truly beautiful experience that could even be appreciated after so many days of racing. We then headed up a “cattle path” after some indecision over the all too familiar sight of boulder hopping our hike a bikes, and at the summit saw the ever smiling faces of the camera guys and their great words of encouragement. Some more pushing and slow riding up the hill and we joined a road and started the rest of the bike leg. The kms seemed to click by very slowly as we had to ride up and down a gorge and another river crossing, then another, then back onto roads of more constant gain and loss of altitude meaning more pushing of bikes before break neck descents on the other side.
We visited our last shop for some more Coke (of course), and I spent more time than was necessary trying to buy a handful of chocolate eclairs. After so many days racing, any food you have packed becomes pretty unappetising, so we weren’t eating an awful lot, but I personally had fixated on my remaining packets of peanut M&M’s. As night fell, the air got colder than we had experienced so far, so we were having to make a lot of adjustments to our layers as we went along. We were holding our course well though, and with Grant weakened by his sickness, Wendy in a sleep deprived state and me now starting to get an unhappy stomach, our progress was stuttering along. Eventually somewhere around 11pm, Wendy needed some sleep, so we took a 40min nap on the side of the road. I woke to shortly after have a man on a horse come by – strange the things you see in South Africa in the middle of the night (pretty sure it wasn’t a hallucination).
Now just 2 hours from the end, and feeling a bit cold, we tried to get our bodies moving faster. Some sandy descents in the dark almost brought some grief, but we all hung on, Wendy probably the best of us at handling downhill biking despite her sleep deprivation. After what seemed an eternity, we got to the main road – a handy and direct route to the finish line which for the main part was downhill. With the team now held together by the moral equivalent of several old band-aids, we decided to forgo the final 3 CP’s and take the road back to the finish. We passed several pockets of drunken locals shouting either encouragement or abuse – who could tell? – as we went along, but it was Friday night after all. Eventually we got to a familiar turn off the coastal road that would take us into the finish. Just a short uphill, then freewheeling into Port Edward resort at what was 2am. Unfortunately our fast progress on the tar road had meant that the volunteers did not know we were coming, and so we arrived at a dark lonely finish line. We rode on several metres to the steps of the main building where someone said “where do you come from?” All I knew I was thirsty, and the offered hot tea and coffee was met with distain andthen no was the answer to any cold drinks. When I returned from the toilet where I drank some cold water from the sink, my team mates were digging into some hot dogs on dry rolls with no sauce – well it was no banquet, but at that point who cared, it was food that we had not already eaten over and over again, so we gobbled them down.
As a team we managed 25th overall, and at times were touching the dizzying heights of the top ten. We lost the Australian honours to Havacrack who showed some true grit and determination to overcome their own trials and tribulations to complete the full course and finish well ahead of us. Our hats go off to both the top teams who can cover the ground so efficiently and quickly, and also our fellow mid to rear pack dwellers who keep pushing on in spite of badly punished and abused bodies. As always lessons are learned that will make us all better racers next time, and we hope to return in the future to this great place and hard race. A big thanks to Heidi, Stephan and the entire cast and crew of volunteers, camera/ media crews, medics and of course our families and supporters for making our time so unique and special, and making the journey possible – we are humbled by your efforts to make our race possible.
Team SandgropAR | Australia | Daniel Murphy