Story of a Saturday Ride

Post Longish Ride Musings

I decided to take of advantage of the good weather and public holiday this past week to spend some time riding my bike. This meant that I rode a fair distance on Wednesday and Saturday; approximately 85km and 100km respectively.

Given that I normally only ride on a Saturday morning these days, this was significant jump in mileage compared to my norm. What with my following a more relaxed, commuting-orientated and spontaneous approach to training, I embraced this “cycling-spike” wholeheartedly. Interestingly, this sort of “iffy-ness” would have been totally unthinkable only a couple of years ago. But alas, I am seeing the benefits of this sort of protocol, which is totally energy, time and weather dependant.

I was actually between a bit of a rock-and-a-hard-place with what I wanted to do sports-wise last Saturday, the options being:

• Do a longish ride with a couple of friends.

• Do a short solo ride and compete in a cross-country race in Bellville mid-afternoon.

• Not to ride and only compete in the cross-country race to the best of my abilities. 

Following my intuition late in the week, I decided to rather go on the ride and forget about the race; there is another one next week in any case. And for the consecutive two weeks thereafter for that matter. 

I must say that I definitely made the right choice. Meeting the guys at 5:30am, we set off around Smitswinkel Bay in darkness – it is approaching winter in the Southern Hemisphere – only to be greeted by a terrific sea views and shore-break around Misty Cliffs and Kommetjie just after dawn.

5am front light check

Just before the climb of Slangkop, we encountered the distinctive running-form of Dr.Charlotte Noble, well known in South African running and mountaineering circles for her top-five Comrades Marathon placing in the 1990s, as well as being part of the controversial Anglo-South African Everest expedition during the same period. A woman of many talents, she somehow combined working full-time as doctor at one of Cape Town's government hospitals with the training required for 6hr30 Comrades, only to later retire from competitive running and live a quiet life in one of the Southern Peninsula's seaside hamlets.

Back to our ride: the pace was brisk yet manageable all the same, with a short water-bottle refill in Sun Valley. It was then on to Chapman's Peak with the usual Saturday morning cyclist and runner traffic going in the opposite direction. There are several cycling sub-cultures in Cape Town, obviously related to locality. There are those in the Southern Suburbs who generally stick to the South Peninsula and surrounds. Then there are the City and Atlantic Seaboard dwellers who habitat Victoria Road, Chapman's Peak and sometimes further a field before returning along the same route. Very territorial, with many of the former being less “schick” than their Atlantic counterparts equipment and appearance-wise. More old Cannondales and Treks evident down south as opposed to Pinarello Dogmas and Cervelo P3s, but I guess I am generalising. Call it an observation of sorts.

Heading through Hout Bay, I thought back to riding a similar route on Wednesday. Just before the informal settlement of Imizamo iYethu, there is major road re-construction. This settlement has long been supported by an Irish philanthropist, who leads parties of volunteers in construction projects within the township community. Not that the latest construction seems related; a massive structure housing an international school is going up on the opposite side of the road, the road in-question having been significantly widened and smoothed to cope with the future traffic-volume.

Just past this spot on Wednesday, I encountered the friendly Rene Haselbacher, a former Tour de France rider now settled in Cape Town. Rene still rides regularly and was a top-fifteen finisher at this years ABSA Cape Epic. Always up for a joke, he chirped me as he re-passed me up the 'Nek (he was rolling very slowly on the foothills – I dropped a TdF rider!) that “Vee are coming back to your breakaway, climber!”

Fast forward to Saturday: we crested Constantia Nek before descending Rhodes Drive into upper-Constantia for some fun; some off-road single-track riding on our road bikes. There are a few isolated grassy trails that I like to frequent every now and then when feeling adventurous. Call it Southern African cyclo-cross if you like, but it is exhilarating all the same before rolling back down to home in die Suidelike Voorstede.

Passing the traffic circle where we met only a few hours prior, the immediate area was now a hive of activity: Saturday morning traffic, rugby matches at the adjacent primary school, hockey matches on the neighbouring high school AstroTurf. All part of a usual Saturday morning in suburbia.

Feeling exhilarated by the ride, it was time to recover, with a dip in our chilly swimming pool. I'm trying to see how far into winter I can keep up this post ride ritual and surprised that I've made it as far as the month of May. A friend of my parents, who is now into his eighties, used to swim daily all year round come rain or shine. Not sure if I'm going to be able to emulate him but we can at least try, albeit once weekly.

A walk to the nearby supermarket for food shopping was followed by a visit to the local health shop, otherwise known as the local fruit and vegetable vendor. These guys set up shop everyday, selling their fresh produce which quite possibly is substantially fresher than the hordes of “long life” fresh produce abundant in the neighbouring supermarket chains. These vendors or dime a dozen all over the country and unknowingly embody a true health shop - in my eyes at least.

The local health shop; for all your anti-oxidant needs. And Nik Naks.

Whilst walking home with my two shopping bags full of food, I begin to think of what the afternoon holds. I am contemplating a spot of gardening, but laundry , lunch and a doze are on the first on the agenda.

Post ride recovery food in the brilliant autumnal sunshine.

Contemplating the day's activities. And watching the washing dry.