A STROLL THROUGH EDEN

Race : Eden Duo
Date: 31 October 2009
Location : Wilderness, Southern Cape
Team : Bloed en OMO
Joseph “ Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat” Oosthuizen
Abel “Oupa” van der Merwe
Seconds : Marius Kortenhoven, Nicola Kortenhoven, Noelle Oosthuizen

With a month to go I phone Biltong Bezuidenhout to make sure he’s in training and discover he’s arranged with a doctor pal to have his heel tendons hacked off .

He doesn’t fool me. I know exactly what’s happened. He’s done a Google search – he’s surprisingly computer literate for his age – and discovered that the Eden Duo has nothing to do with near naked people wearing fig leaves in the wilderness.

Some lateral thinking and I invite Technicolour Dreamcoat to a holiday by-the-sea and he takes the bait. The excitement just gets bigger when he sees that we are taking bicycles and a canoe as well.

But first a slight digression :

A sad reality of the sunset years is the steady decline in racing horsepower, sight, hearing and worst of all, memory.

Yet, amazingly, I am able to recall every stage, path, vista or excitement of all the ARs I have done. The full seven days and nights of the Bull or the three Swazis, for example, can be rewound and replayed at will. I am sure the EDEN DUO will be no exception.

Interestingly, there is one faculty which improves with age : smell. A phenomenon that Gabriel Garcia Marquez discusses at length in his Nobel prize winning Love in the Time of Cholera.

I personally find that I am slowly transmogrifying into a bloodhound. I, who like most men – so I have read – am unable to smell a woman’s perfume unless freshly applied, now find that, much to my wife’s amusement, that I am able to pick up the scent of the girls in our swim training squad when I cruise up and down the Hillcrest pool with my nose – so to speak – close to the ground. It’s as if the scent molecules cling to the water’s meniscus. The same thing happens at the Virgin Active pool – whose chemical odours are so strong that they permeate the entire gym – when the old dames water-robics class starts. Within seconds I can smell lavender and Oil of Olay.

The race:

Stage 1 : Kloofing up the Kaaimans river (10km or thereabouts)

At 03h15 I chase Dreamcoat out of bed with the announcement that we are going to the beach – the family will join us later. When he sees the padkos in the rucksack he forgets to ask some pretty obvious questions.

The start is chilly when we set along a stretch of beach. The pace is fast. So fast one would think the Chariots of Fire is playing. Then up ahead someone lets rip with a burst of sports drink induced flatulence. The first and only warning is a momentary warmth (tru’s bob) as I fail to see the mustard gas on account of the failing eyesight.

Everything turns black except for a small pin prick of light at the end of a tunnel. Mercifully it becomes larger and larger and I know I will survive. Moments Later we emerge from the railway tunnel leading to the Kaaiman’s mouth

The bouldering up the Kaaiman’s is out of this world. We frequently swim across or along the coca cola brown river water where it has cut through solid rock that towers vertically on either side. It’s a thrilling experience despite our being fully clothed and dragged down by a waterlogged rucksack and takkies.

Dreamcoat takes a bit strain with the swimming bit but for the rest of the day he takes his revenge on the old man.

Stage 2 : 40 km MTB up the Montagu pass to top of the Outeniquas.

When we enter the transition at Saasveld I can see that Amazing recognises it for what it is – an AR transition not a trip to the beach. Before he has time to put together an argument I have him on the bike.

The leg starts with some sharp single track and his enthusiasm is restored. His reservations return when his navigator manages to get disoriented in the Outeniqua foothills and some time is lost wandering aimlessly, as it were, in the Sinai desert. His focus is restored when I threaten to sell him to a band of wandering Ismaelites. The picture of Potifar’s wife in the Kinder Bybel has clearly left its mark.

He puts on a merciless pace all the way up the Montagu pass. Fortunately he stops occasionally to admire the many views.

Stage 3 : Hike through the Outeniquas to Groeneweide

We are already an hour behind on what is, to be honest, a rather pathetic schedule. The odds are clearly against our making the start of the paddle section before the sundown cutoff. So, in the interests of participating in as much of the race as possible, we make a tactical decision. We get into the car and drive to Stage 4.

I am truly amazed that so many teams completed the race – most clipping at least some of the optional CPs and several of them only finishing at dawn. How they managed to make the paddling cut-off I don’t know.

We sneak into the transition at Groeneweide. The looks on the faces of the AR groupies appear to say : could it be that the old geezer and his sidekick are so close on the heels of the leaders? We, on the other hand, think : could they really have beaten our car?

Ignoring such trivialities Technicolour scoffs another boiled egg – he has this unique race nutrition theory and has packed a dozen hardboiled eggs for the day. I can foresee hydrogen sulphide episodes worse than any boarding school experience. Amazingly, Amazing never loses his decorum throughout the day – and it was a long one.

Stage 4 : 35 km MTB to the bridge on the Hoogeveld river in Sedgefield.

The cycle to Sedgefield is not as quite as easy as expected. The road – aptly named the Seven Passes road - repeatedly winds down and then up out of a succession of river valleys as it winds up to the plateau. The only excitement being pedalling to escape a farm dog.

A new dilemma presents itself – where do we turn off for the coast? We make a random selection and the descent into, what we hope is the Hoogekraal valley, is fast and furious. All the while I am in mild state of panic. What if this is the wrong road? Do I have the kilojoules to go back up again?

But we strike the transition and discover that Dreamcoat’s wife and baby are there. I know I must get us through the transition fast before he gets waylaid by all the domestic bliss.

Stage 5 : Paddle down Hoogekraaal river and across Swartvlei to the coast (15 km ?)

With a clash of paddles and some breathtaking wobbles we head down river, eventually synchronising.

We settle into a sort of rhythm and make excellent progress into a confusing maze of reed banked lakes leading into the Swartvlei.

The only thing spoiling the mood and beauty of the surroundings are the dammed sand banks. We differ on where the Swartvlei is deepest and Amazing is consistently right. The going gets worse as the tide runs out. Somehow we manage to paddle all the way to the transition at Sedgefield.

Stage 6 : Beach run from Sedgefield to the Touwsrivier mouth at Wildenerness (20 km)

The moon is full and romantic but that helps none.

Amazing heads off at a blistering walk. I struggle to keep up and he ignores my theory that if we rest for a while we will actually move faster afterwards.

I try to walk with eye’s closed and my vision is filled with a dazzling array of intricate, Muslim art like, patterns. Sort of like bumping heads in a rugby scrum – but without the taste of blood.

Three hours have passed and the distant lights refuse to come closer. Suddenly its over, except for the final paddle up the river to the finish.

I am a tad tired and cold at this stage and don’t complain when the two girls carry our K2 to the river.

Stage 7 : Paddle up Touwsrivier to the finish as Ebb and Flow

Wet and miserably cold we finish at midnight, almost ramming Jan Heenop’s “fakkel” into the river.

Thanks to Jan and team for yet another memorable excursion into new territory.