Veni, vidi, vici
Its a bit like the matrix. (apparently..) you have to do it, to feel it. And feel it you do! This year for me was special, being my 4th attempt at this ridiculous event, the first a non-starter due to the classic Alps-virgin tourist stack & KO on the first day, the second (2008) being a wash-out (still gave it a shot) the third, a blackout of pain & anguish, so whilst still fresh in my memory, my “recollection” of this years carnage & chaos began with a few days training & giving my trusty Spicey a few death-stares to make sure she behaved appropriately.. luckily, it worked, however I didn’t stare at the saddle long enough.. although my buns of steel were going to total it anyway..
Another 'Alps Virgin'....
Two days on the road left us in winding up the famous 21 bends of roadie torture otherwise known as Alpe Duez’, to make camp in our luxury hide-out, with glorious views over the mountains, never letting us forget the exulted company we were in. Fair dinkum’ to those who camp out, but when you hit a certain age, you need a bed after a hard days riding. We had a good few settling in days of practice, always a good idea for the mega, if only to get slightly more conditioned & bike prepped for the weekends madness. A few stacks, & the odd little mechanical problem (not with my steed I might add) each day, & after a good few runs of the both the Mega course & qualifying track, we were feeling pretty confident about what was ahead of us.. but by Thursday my armour began to proper smell, goggle foam ruined by sweat, & shins & buns bright red from pad-rub. Each evening my bike sat there, in the corner, sneering at me, as I stood naked & thoroughly beaten, as if she was dishing the pain to me! Alas, it was the mountains in the distance that had the last laugh each day, counting the victims whom dare take them on. We saw plenty of casualties, & only through adversity & experience you will survive.
The shoes that should have stayed home....
After the last days practise, which involved me wimping off halfway, just to give my poor bike (body) a needed rest, the night before the qualifying races. The format this year was 9 separate races, in which the higher up you finished, deciding which race you were in on the weekend. Not making the top 38 to get into the mega itself, & having a tough old time of starting from near the back, I managed a respectable 80th, getting me into the “third” event, called mega amateurs. (just the same as the main race, but filled with those who’ve maybe had bad luck (crash, flat, mechanical) or simply struggled with everything else! I know I did. It is the more nerve raking event, as the qualifying track was more full DH than the mega course itself, that making it maybe more full-on competitive, & the lack of snow at the start, making it proper-pants quick right from the get-go. Its hard to describe in detail what happened exactly, more a blur of madness as riders were going down like flies, to my left, to my right, & at times, in front. The skill here is avoidance, & survival. The nerves I felt at the start totally vaporised in a mad panic of rocks, dust, crashes, arm, finger & leg pump, & gasping for air like a fish out of water. Really. Before you know it, it’s over. A good half hour of agony seems to take only around 10 minutes (if you were an alien..) but the extreme sense of relief of getting down, & getting down in one piece was almost emotional. My bike just sat there.. if that was hard.
A days rest was on the cards, whilst I became a happy spectator for the mega ladies & the secondary race, mega challengers. It has to be said, if you are of the fairer sex, then absolute total respect to you, (apart from those whom beat my time;) I did witness some fantastic displays of guts & courage in the ladies race, this really is sporting event that not only brings many nationalities together, but sexes also. Great stuff. After a good bout of shouting at friends in Saturdays race, it was time for..bed. Gulp. And so Sunday, & after watching the truly awesome spectacle of the main event itself, I found my quivering self on the second row, my view obstructed only by the row of guys in front.. after that it was rather large snow-capped mountains far into the distance. In other words, the snow covered slope we were on, was completely out of sight, as in, it was way to steep the see more than a few feet. Then all hell broke loose, first a panic of wheel-spin, then a big shove from behind, followed by arse on back wheel, taking out the guy in front, and total chaos as every “rider” made his only way down that dread start slope. Bodies & bikes everywhere, as it was pot-luck as to whether you went ass-over-tit, got taken out, or made it down. Within 5 minutes my right (speedway) foot had become completely numb, as everybody began the trudge through the flat section of snow, in a mad desperate panic to find the rocks. By this point I was ready to lie-down and die quietly, but something kept me going.. and it was love.. it was love that took me through the super-dusty rocky single-track, that you had to avoiding looking DOWN to your left, love that got me over the small but lung busting climbs, around the never-ending traversing single-track, down the next section of steep, deep, dusty berms & switch-backs, & into the woods, that contained a large slice of super techy deep rooted, mega steep drops, corners, swoops, ups, downs, everything you’ve ever ridden is all here. One minute your uphill in mud, the next down streams, then more powder-like dust, it goes on and on, and everybody has their own personal battle to get down, and get down in one piece.
It’s a funny thing, what we humans do for love.. It can drive a person insane, at the same time as putting themselves through extreme amounts of pain, suffering, torture & agony. Not forgetting terror, as today’s specialist subject was the Megavalanche. You see, the point I’m making is that the more willing you are, the more pain you will suffer. & if Mr T were to strike me down with a thousand Snickers bars, this year, I was maybe too willing. My love for “riding” my mountain bike took me to the edge, & well over it, as it sure did for many others, and left me in an almost emotional state, that I will never, ever forget for the rest of my life. So my aim here is a warning to those whom have still to tick it off their to do list. In other words, don’t be to willing, but just make sure you do it, you wont ever forget it.
Cristian Tomlinson.
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