Oli has just emerged from a week of being off the grid, hell-bent on simply soaking up the vibe at joBerg2C. Because putting words to website just doesn’t do it justice. - By Oli Munnik

For the vast majority of last week my phone was firmly switched off. In the age of super connectivity it was a brave move. How would I survive the Joberg2C without WhatsApp, email, internet and god forbid, the twitter machine?! The answer is quite simply “easily”. My mates on the other side of the inter-web would survive without me constantly updating, sharing and reporting on what was happening throughout those 9 days!

On the back of my daily Cape Epic updates, which, in a stroke of luck, were read by more than just my mum and dad, I had planned to repeat the process during last week’s Old Mutual Joberg2C. Arriving in Frankfort, the host town after stage 1, I managed to nail a post by nightfall and fire off a tweet or two. Mean. Things were on track. Or so I thought.

By the time we reached a magnificent Sterkfontein Dam, the backdrop to Stage 3’s overnight stop, I was properly engulfed in the awesomeness of Joberg2C. Experiencing the energy and vibe in and around the race villages had me reminiscing of years gone by where Mountain Biking and the journey are the focus and not profit or brand building. Joberg2C felt old school in the best kind of way. It was here that an executive decision was made… my phone would be banished to the depths of my bag (not the dam!) and there wouldn’t be a daily column. I too was going old school.

In hindsight, while plonked here behind my computer in Sea Point, I should have perhaps written a daily column of the ins and outs of the 2013 Joberg2C. Readers would’ve wanted to hear about how a blunt brake lever punctured a rider’s calf muscle metres from the finish line almost causing announcer Doug Bird to faint. How Ixopo’s biggest Dutchman, Naartjie saved the day for my partner, the Italian Stallion. How skipping 2 stages due to flu earned me a hug from race director Kelly as opposed to disqualification! How girls were freaked out by the creepy French weirdo who stared at them in the Itec chill zone. And of course, last but not least, readers would’ve wanted to know how and why the 900km route is the boss of all bosses. My answer to them is enter the 2014 edition!

Adequately describing the Joberg2C in daily columns, tweets or post-event articles, pales in comparison with actually participating … turning those pedals, sweating up the hills, high fiving at the bottom of exhilarating descents and of course enjoying a cold beer in one of the various chill-zones after a tough day in the saddle is what the 9 day journey is all about.

With this year’s event a massive success, organisers will continue to tweak and improve their model, cultivating even more single track while also continuing to support the communities through which the race passes. I don’t think I am alone in believing that last week’s journey through the beloved country is the jewel on the South African Stage Race Calendar. I sincerely hope that the Joberg2C becomes South Africa’s benchmark stage race.

To Wappo, Kelly, Gary (the Racoon), Nicky, Glen and Mandy … high 5’s all round!

Ciao Ciao
Oli

A seized wheel nearly puts an end to Nic’s joBerg2c journey, until he gets some unexpected help from SuperCycling presenter, Gerald de Kock.

- By Nic Lamond

It was emotional morning for Andrew and I today. We were almost in tears at the prospect of saying farewell to the hospitality of the Glengarry campsite in Kamberg at dawn. We’d had an amazing stay. A river to cool our legs in. An amphitheatre of mountains surrounding us. Succulent pork for dinner. Attentive mothering from the lovely parents of the Howick Prep School. These are the things that make the world of difference after a long day of suffering in the saddle.

As tough as it was to leave we knew that 94km away lay the equally splendid stop under the autumnal oak trees of Hazeldean Farm. But the 94km wasn’t going to be a cake walk. Almost 2000m of vertical ascent lay between us and the legendary next overnight stop. And one of our summits was to be Snowtop Pass, at 1864m above sea level, the highest point of the 2012 Old Mutual JoBerg2C.

I went out hard with the front bunch and was impressed when I stopped for a spectacular photo opportunity and Andrew came trundling past only a few moments later. I remounted my bike and rode up to Andrew to cruise the Snowtop climb together. We were hauling, although Andrew has just confessed to “tasting blood” in the back of his throat for most of the morning. It was a long twisting climb that offered spectacular views in every direction.

The first waterpoint at the top of the pass was a shrine. A spread of potatoes, chelsea buns, crunchies, Bar Ones, fruit cake, homemade banana bread and oatmeal cookies was set upon with gusto. Unfortunately Andrew was right on my tail and I only managed to stop for a small sampling of the treats before he beckoned me down the 12km high-speed descent.

Despite his calls to get moving, I lingered a little too long at the waterpoint. Which meant I was a minute or five behind Andy off the mountain. Which, in turn, meant that when my bike’s freehub body seized at the bottom he was still ahead of me blissfully unaware I was unable to carry on. Not that he would have been much use, mind you. When it comes to the mechanics of a bicycle, let’s just say Andy wouldn’t be the first person I’d turn to in a pickle…

In his stead appeared Gerald de Kock. The SuperSport presenter has been following the event since day one. He had intended to be riding as well as commentating for the TV packages sent out each evening. The man works hard. But he came down with a stomach bug just days before the start and so, not wanting to miss out, he has tracked the route daily, offering support and watching the riding up close. Crucially, he has been driving along the route with his trusty Scott mountain bike stashed in the boot of his Subaru.

After trying to fix my bike for a few minutes I noticed Gerald was just a few hundred metres up the road. I scooted my bike up to him and realised he was also stranded. His car battery was flat and he was about to get jump started by the Emergency Medical Team. He asked me what was wrong and whether he could help?

I think my wheel has seized, I said.
Well, you’re welcome to use mine, he offered.
That would be great. Is it a 29-inch 10-speed?
Um, no. It’s a 26-inch 9-speed.
Damn.
But it is attached to a bike. Why don’t you just take the whole thing!

Perfect. With that Gerald removed my race number and stuck it on his handle bars. We then set about changing my pedals over, which, if you read my first blog post of our JoBerg2C journey, you’ll remember I couldn’t remove back in Cape Town to pack my bike into its box. Fast forward six days and I simply feigned ignorance and fatigue and asked the EMT guy who had just sorted out Gerald’s car to please help this weary cyclist with these stubborn pedals. No, I have no idea why they are so tough to get off… Yes, you’re right they shouldn’t be. Damn bike shop mechanics with their over-zealous wrenches. As Gerald and I looked on the EMT guy spent the next 20 minutes trying to find something with enough leverage to crack the thread on my pedals. He ended up taking his 4×4′s wheel jack apart and finally, with veins pulsing and sweat pouring off his bald head, he got them loose.

An hour after I thought my day’s riding was over I was back on the road again. On a 12kg dual-suspension mountain bike with 26-inch wheels and the brakes fitted the wrong way round (I have my front brake lever on the right). But beggars can’t be choosers. And I will forever be grateful for Gerald’s incredible generosity. What a guy. There wasn’t even any hesitation in his voice when he offered me his prized steed. Clearly he doesn’t know my track record with test bikes. Chapeau, Gerald!

A lot of riding remained, including the knee-deep crossing of the Lotheni River, a long technical climb on red earth on the facing bank, and a final few rollers into the magnificent Hazeldean Farm. I found Andy asleep at the second waterpoint, wondering what had happened to me, but clearly not concerned enough to do much about it.

We tackled the remaining hills together, engaging in the usual banter as we picked our way through the field. Until we had to descend, that is. The moment gravity started to drag us downhill, I was forced to repeat out loud: “Left hand: front! Right hand: rear!”

Nic is a contributor for Bicycling, and will be blogging daily from the race. Read more of his blogs at http://nictwohands.wordpress.com

The first day of racing proper, and the promise of new singletrack sections throughout the 93km route had the start line pumping at 7am this morning.

- By Nic Lamond

I’m pretty sure the enthusiasm for a predawn wake-up and freezing start line will start to wane at some point… But for now, 500-plus riders fueled by free Seattle Coffee Company cappuccinos in the morning are screaming out behind the huge tractor that leads us out each morning.

I was stoked. My upset stomach was a distant memory, and my legs were ready for a day interspersed with amazing singletrack throughout. Andrew and I timed our start to perfection, removing our jeans and stashing our bags with the transport trucks to arrive just minutes before the start gun. I’d hatched a scheme over breakfast with Oli Munnik, who was riding for GoPro, and so had two of their video cameras strapped to his bike. One to his chest, the other, looking backwards over his rear wheel. We’d heard a new section of singletrack appeared at about 10km into the stage, so we found each other near the start and I attached myself to his wheel. We went out guns blazing with the frontrunners.

10km is a long way. And riding in the front pack means taking your life in your hands as the bunch motors through jeeptrack with billows of fine dust covering everyone but the front four or five riders. You also can’t see a thing. It was a treacherous experience but we held it together and got our noses into the singletrack among the top 10.

As it turns out the singletrack we’d busted our gut to enter near the front wasn’t terribly exciting and after a few fast turns we were out the other side. Oli turned to me. “I think I’m done for the day” he gasped over his shoulder. I couldn’t speak, but was in full agreement. It was time to chill. More rewarding singletrack followed through a rocky outcrop, then the day’s main attraction loomed.

I have dreamed of the first waterpoint of this stage for a full year now. It has taken on mythical proportions in my mind. Last year Andy and I spent almost a full hour at the mercy of the Free State farmers and their unbelievably hospitable wives. This year the waterpoint had improved, if that was even possible. The JoBerg2C could just as easily be a reality TV cooking show. Wors rolls, koeksisters, vetkoek, koffie, potatoes, soup, chocolate bars – the choice was exhausting. I didn’t know which way to turn. An amazing woman appeared like a mirage from the chaos and offered me a cup of coffee and a cup of soup, neither of which I wanted right at that moment. I drank the coffee. I then politely refused the soup chaser. The look of disappointment on her face when I also declined a third koeksister will be forever etched into my mind. I feel like returning to that incredible farmstead to apologise again…

I witnessed an hysterical cameo play out in front of me as I stuffed my face. A good mate of mine, Rory, from crank.co.za, was getting back on his bike trying to exit the waterpoint. Just as he’d thrown a leg over his bike an exceptionally helpful (and exceptionally large) farmer helped him off his bike again, and wheeled it away to the bike rack, where he was about to rack it and turn around to ‘help’ another unsuspecting rider. Rory tried desperately to explain that he was actually leaving, but with a mouth full of koffie, vetkoek and bananas all he did was dribble all over himself. A small tug of war ensued, which was inevitably won by the farmer. Rory chased him to the bike rack, and finally explained his intentions to leave, which he then did.

Andy had caught me by this stage and we trundled off onto some long district roads to join Rory and a small but strong group of riders. We were surrounded by sunflower fields, mielie plantations, and crosswinds! We worked hard on the open district roads between the fun singeltrack sections. Oli suddenly appeared again at the second waterpoint and we ducked into a stunning roller coaster. Following Oli is an experience in itself. His loose and playful style has him popping off any root, rock or bump. It is like watching a dance. I’d like to see that GoPro footage someday.

In the meantime Andy was hanging on by a thread. I could tell by the silence interspersed with the occasional grunt that he was hurting. He completed the IronMan in PE less than a week ago and his legs, while strong, were screaming in agony. He spent the next hour yo-yoing off the back of our small group of four. But he hung in and we all crossed the finish line together.

It was a great day out on the bike, and Andy and I are slowly getting into the swing of things again. It takes a while to reacquaint yourself with the unspoken language we share out on the bike. We’ve now each had a tough day, so we’re learning the language fast!

Kevin Evans and teammate David George from Team 360Life had a superb day on the bike. They won, after leading from the first waterpoint. So how did they experience the route?

“I was pleasantly surprised,” Kevin grinned. “I don’t know how Wappo and his team have managed to find such an amazing route out here in the middle of the Free State. I really didn’t expect to see the quality of trails they’ve built out here.”

See? It’s not just me. That’s a pretty solid endorsement from one of South Africa’s greatest seasoned mountain bikers. Although he did concede that the pace of the racing upfront has surprised him: “I was hoping for a few days to take it easy, get over my health issues and ride myself into it. I thought all the teams were in the same boat after a tough Epic. But it’s so fast at the moment!”

Another potentially fast day awaits as we head to Sterkfontein Dam tomorrow. 124km is a long way.

Nic is a contributor for Bicycling, and will be blogging daily from the race. Read more of his blogs at http://nictwohands.wordpress.com

Read more of Nic’s blogs at http://nictwohands.wordpress.com

Kelvin Trautman

After suffering through the Epic, (where he came 23rd overall incidentally) Nic Lamond is looking forward to rejuvenating his soul at the joBerg2c which kicks off on Friday. You can look forward to daily blogs of the adventure.

- By Nic Lamond

After eating my body-weight in Easter eggs and only two short rides I’m happy to report I’m nicely recovered from that other rather large multi-stage mountain bike race near Cape Town. And I’m already itching for the next adventure. Thankfully, it’s just around the corner… It starts this Friday, to be exact.

The Old Mutual joBerg2c is similar to the Epic. It’s also a multi-stage endurance mountain bike race. It too requires supreme negotiation skills to get out of the house for nine days. You’ll also have to foster a relationship of understanding with your bank manager. And it’s best to have a job where you’re not really doing anything, so the office is not likely to miss you.

But that’s where comparisons end. The joBerg2c has soul. By the bucketload. It’s more like nine days of riding your favourite trails with your mates. Even if you don’t know anyone else at the start. Race organisers Farmer Glen, Gary Green and Wappo are hell bent on showing you the most sublime trails possible as the route winds its way off the escarpment and down to the seaside. It’s tough, sure. But these lads want you to finish the race with a smile on your face. And there’s enough singletrack to coax a smile out of anyone.

The boys’ energy is contagious, and it’s no surprise they manage to rope in the local communities for support along the way. There is, however, a downside to having every farmer and his wife looking after you from Joburg to Scottburgh – you’re quite likely to pick up weight.

I’ve been casting my eyes over my correspondence from last year’s event. And I’m getting bloody excited! Don’t get me wrong, I love the Epic, but what that race just took out of me, the joBerg2c is going to put back!

My partner will be Andrew Hall again. Last year I couldn’t get Andrew away from the Freestate farmers’ water tables as the wors rolls and egg-inside-boiled-potato treats were too much to pass up. We went in for seconds… and even thirds. Hell, on one of the days he stopped for coffee and vetkoek at a waterpoint. Half an hour later I found him lying in a deck chair chatting to his wife on the phone. Such is the power of the joBerg2c: even 70km into a stage it can be such a pleasurable experience you forget you’re riding a bike race.

This time will be a little different, I fear. Andrew is a shadow of the partner I had last year. His svelte 75kg racing frame just powered him through the snottiest weather the South African Ironman Champs in PE has ever seen. He has definitely upped the ante.

It’s too late for me to get any more training in, so I’ve asked for an extra week’s leave to taper as hard as I possibly can. When I hit that start line at Karan Beef (near Heidelberg), I will be so well tapered Andrew’s going to need a litre of coffee, a bullwhip and jumper leads to get my heart rate going…

Just two more sleeps. Man, this is going to be another ripper!

Nic is a contributor for Bicycling, and will be blogging daily from the race. Read more of his blogs at http://nictwohands.wordpress.com