Showing posts with label #dotwatching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #dotwatching. Show all posts

Monday, 3 July 2017

Croatia's Four Corners in 59 hours: Hard Cro 2017, wow!

Lorries roar past, dogs bark, mosquitoes buzz around my ears.  I open my eyes, it’s still dark, even with the faint orange glow of a streetlight.  My arms are aching from holding them on my body, as I lay on the narrow bench of a bus stop for a quick sleep.  Not a good choice  of location.  I want to go back to sleep but it’s cold now, I have to get moving.
I pick myself up and look at the time on my Garmin – it’s 0230hrs and I’ve slept for a fitful 30 minutes, which makes a total of 90 minutes sleep in 900km.  I’m somewhere before Zagreb, Croatia’s capital, and still have another 500km to ride, through the second control point in the beautifully fertile Medjimurje, with its short, sharp, very steep hills, before 300km of hot, flat roads into Slavonia, to the finish in Ilok, the easternmost point of Croatia.  I haven’t seen my wife and daughters for a week, since I flew from the UK, and am desperate to see my girls, waiting for me at the finish, so I get myself up, get back on the bike and start moving, also remembering my pledge to complete the race in under 60 hours.

My bike has been flawless in all its constituent components, other than a slipping chain.  The Velocite Syn frameset and Venn Rev 35 TCD wheels are fast, strong and aerodynamic, the Panaracer Race A EVO3 tubeless tyres grippy and unpunctured, the Tripeak ceramic bearings smooth, the Magicshine lights bright and efficient.  No problems this year with failed lights, broken spokes, or duff batteries. Unfortunately, I consumed all the Torq nutrition I carried with me within 12 hours!

As I approach Zagreb, I see bright flashes of light to my left, beautiful white in the black night.  I wonder if they are fireworks, but realise it’s lightning and hours later, after dawn has broken, it’s not so beautiful as first it drizzles, then it rains torrentially, turning roads into rivers.  There’s no time to stop and take shelter, I must press on, even though I worry about puncturing from debris washed from the sides of the roads and my slipping gears, cresting the last big climb of Kuzminec and descending towards the flatter roads of Varaždin.  400km to go.

Dotwatchers and the race’s media crew greet me on and around the bridge, as I leave Varaždin.  I’ve seen a few dotwatchers on the road, from Delnice, and I’ll see more in Medjimurje and Slavonia, a few more of whom will ride with me a short distance.  These are some of the highlights of the race, as the road for the unsupported ultracyclist can get very lonely, especially in the long, dark nights.  I’m especially motivated by seeing dotwatchers from last year, such as Dubravko Bituh, the roadside cheerings and by cyclists (Tomislav, Bruno, Vladan) making the effort to meet me, thoroughly enjoying chatting to them and getting to know them a little, as I cross their entire country.  One lady even offers me bread and water, as I race through the northernmost part of Croatia.  I’m touched by all these gestures.

I stop at the second control point, and drink as much juice as I can.  I’ve met many of the people staffing the control point before and they’re surprised that I won’t stop to sleep, but they look after me well for the brief 15 minutes that I stay there, including fetching me ice-cold strawberry juice!  I know I’ll need as much fluid as I can carry for the last push, that temperatures will soar over 40 degrees celsius.  300km to go.

Indeed, it hits a high of 45 degrees.  The land is so flat, with barely any shelter from trees, the wind is so light, and the sun so strong that I have to stop every couple of hours to refill my now hot water bottles.  I seek out ice cream and ice lollies, as well as packs of frozen peas, which I stuff under my clothes on my back.  The air conditioning in the shops are such a relief and it would be easy to stay for longer, but the heat will not abate and the clock will not stop.  Push on, push on.

Streams of lorries roar past on the straight, scorching roads of Slavonia, belching hot air.  I warily listen and look out for them as I dodge cracks and holes in the road.  In this heat, everything has swollen: feet and backside especially.  Swarms of tiny flies smash into me, forcing me to zip-up my clothes.  Some fly directly into my open mouth, hitting my tonsils and making me gag and retch.

As I pass through small villages I stare at the bright blue water hydrants.  They, taps, and hosepipes in people’s gardens, tease me, and I fantasise about lying on the ground, drenching myself in cold water.  No public fountains exist in Slavonia, so I scan for a tap outside of a garden.  After many hours, I spot a tap on the side of a garage, but the desire to finish keeps me pushing on.  Anyway, I will only dry-up and heat-up in a question of minutes.  Push on.

I pass through the city of Osijek, with its plethora of frustrating red lights, no possibility of bypassing it as a motorway has been built on its ringroad.  70km to go.

In Vukovar, with its iconic water tower - this year I see it in daylight and, as I recognise various places, I remember hallucinations in the night of last year’s race, almost like ghosts.  Fitting for a city which was flattened in the war 25 years ago.  50km to go.

Leaving Vukovar, I start thinking that I can see Rich Griffiths, a talented photographer who joined the race’s media crew, hiding in bushes by the side of road  but, as I get closer, I realise that “he” is a small guide post.  A few minutes later, I think I see a photographer hiding in another bush.  Dismissing it from my mind as a hallucination, I ride on but, as I pass, the photographer reveals herself!  A lady in a yellow dress, no less, who leaps into a car with Zagreb plates (“ZG”), which then zooms down the road, she leaps out again, rushes into a position and starts snapping again.  I’m utterly filthy, not having brushed my teeth or showered for days, with almost 1,400km worth of dirt, dust, sweat, grit, juice, ice cream and dead flies covering my exposed skin, but I’m almost there.  Push on.

I ride down and up through the small villages which line the Danube, on the approach to Ilok: Sotin; Opatovac; Šarengrad; with interminable long stretches after each village. Finally I’m in Ilok and it’s almost dark.  I stop to hastily put my reflective night gear and lights on, then ride in a circle around the castle, knowing that people are dotwatching me.  A tribute to last year’s dotwatchers, who watched me make the same circle three times, when my ‘phone, my lights, and my Garmin were all dead.  I wonder if the race organisation will send people to get me if I make the circle another couple of times!  Time to go, down we go to the finishing line on the long straight road to the Hotel Dunav, on the banks of the Danube.

People cheer, cameras flash and friendly faces beam at me in the night as I cross the finishing line.  There are my girls, waiting for me, filthy me, and I kiss them.  1,400 kilometres and 14,000 height metres are done in 59 hours 50 minutes.


Take my bike, give me food, a shower, and show me to my bed… until next time.

Monday, 27 June 2016

Croatia - Wow! Hard Cro!

Wow!  What an unforgettable experience of a lifetime!

An absolutely stunning country, wonderfully friendly people (all English-speaking!), a fantastically organised race - all these things sum up to have resulted in an awesome adventure.  Superlatives are insufficient to describe what a high I'm on.  Having returned home to my family, I missed them terribly, I'm so incredibly happy to be back with them, and now the last week's amazing events are now slowly soaking in.

My only regret was not being able to spend more time with the other ultra cyclists, all of them fantastic people and riders, who came from all over Europe (Austria, Belgium, Bosnia, Croatia, France, Germany, Hungary, Italy, Serbia, Slovenia, and myself from the Brexiting-UK), with many of them being highly experienced, and who made the race exciting, pushing me hard to the line, snapping at my heels, including two former Race Across America (“RAAM”) finishers, three Transcontinental Race (“TCR”) entrants, and many former Mille Miglia and Paris-Brest-Paris ("PBP") competitors, all of whom made great efforts and whom I admire greatly for their ability to endure, physically and mentally, regardless of speed.  Fortunately, I managed to spend time with most of them before the race started, and with the faster finishers after, sharing experiences and getting to know them better.

Hard Cro - The Race
In summary, Hard Cro is an ultra-endurance, unsupported, solo race, 1,400km (880mi) around Croatia, with about 17,000m (55,000ft) climbing, from the southernmost point of Croatia, Prevlaka, up the stunning Dalmatian coast, to the westernmost point in fertile Istria, Savudrija (checkpoint 1), through the gorgeous hilly area to the northernmost point, Sveti Martin Na Mura (checkpoint 2), and to the easternmost point in Slavonia finishing by the beautiful Danube in Ilok.
My actual route around Croatia

Instead of a blow-by-blow account, I'll recount my race by describing to you how stupid I can be...
https://www.strava.com/activities/619404714/analysis/75496/81308

My (Complete Lack Of A) Race Plan:
1. From the start, ride really hard at a stupid pace, overtaking 24 riders in 4 hours, as you haven't recovered from winning the 2,200km Giro 2 weeks previously, nor trained, have no idea how you feel so, screw it, just keep riding hard and hope you don't implode.
Dot watching my stupid pacing
 
2. After 6 hours, implode, cramp, and find a magic fountain to wash and cool yourself, drink, and crack on, relieved that your stupidity in step 1 didn't finish your race.
The Magic Fountain

3. Ride through the night, climbing through wild inland areas where there are bears and wolves, knowing that your Lycra will provide zero protection from a sharp swipe/bite and that you're sure to be caught by those hungry wild animals whilst climbing at walking pace.
4. Descend through fog at 6 degrees Celsius, gathering ice on your fingerless gloves and arms.  Take off your glasses as they're useless with all the precipitation, then drop them somewhere on a 40mph descent.  Recover some heat by shivering, sat on a petrol station shop's floor, whilst eating cold sandwiches, to the blatantly contemptuous looks of the manager, tutting and shaking his head as he strides over, despising this inappropriately-dressed hobo.
5. Poison yourself with an overdose of electrolyte and carbonated drinks, make yourself feel so sick that you can't eat or drink for 8 hours.
6. On climbing Ucka, Croatia's tallest, steepest mountain (some sections 20%), injure your lower left back by overcompensating for your already-injured lower right back (from being runover by a car in April) so that you need to take painkillers, which will also help with that saddle sore which has returned from the Giro, because you didn't recover enough before doing this race.
The top of Croatia's tallest mountain, Ucka >3000ft
 
7. Gingerly cross a non-existent road made up of loose stones and more stones, without a square of tarmac, praying to the god of cycling not to puncture nor fall off with a good dose of road rash.
8. Leisurely wash, eat and sleep at the first checkpoint until your rival riders catch up with you at checkpoint 1 and set off again while you're sleeping, annihilating your 2.5 hour lead, stressing all the time that you won't catch them again.  Hope that they'll fall asleep into a nice, soft ditch because, surely, they can't go without sleep for consecutive 2 nights.  You certainly can't.
9. Realise that you've made a wee navigation error - a road that you wanted to use as a shortcut is now a shortcut to death, as it has literally fallen down in large sections like steps, so you have to descend further and climb even more.
10. When riding through the second night, get so cold that you need to resort to buying work gloves from a petrol station and stuffing paper towels, from their toilet, up your jacket so you look pregnant.
 
11. Repeat step 5.  Curse yourself for your double stupidity.
12. Lie down outside a supermarket, trying not to vomit on yourself anymore.  Set off again, feeling like you're about to fall asleep while riding.
13. Repeat step 11 but use the side of a busy road to power-nap, hoping that you won't get decapitated by a lorry but, screw it, you're too tired to care.
14. Find some chocolate milkshake in random shops, hoping to cure yourself from the stupidity of steps 5 and 11, ensuring that you lose more time to the other riders.
15. At checkpoint 2, eat leisurely, drink more milk with sugar, shower, then sleep for 45mins, enough time for your rivals to catch up with you, just as you're leaving.  Be inspired by the dot watchers along the route who cheer you on.
16. Get hit in the eye by a massive moth.  Break a spoke on your front wheel and struggle to rip it off satisfactorily.  Lose the top of your only AA powered USB charger before the race even started, discover in the pitch black that all your lights' batteries have run out or failed, then bodge a new bike light by using a weak 3xAA work light, secured to your aero bars with duct tape.
The bodged, weak light, duct taped to my aero barsIt was absolute rubbish, but kept me in the rules


17. Start hallucinating again, seeing animals, people waving at you from cars and cafés, even a bear, where there are none, even while you're trying to stay awake by talking on the 'phone to your poor, suffering wife at 0300hrs, until your 'phone's battery also runs out.
18. Get lost when your Garmin's battery runs out, ride round in circles, unable to find the way to the hotel finishing point nor be able to remember its name, desperately hoping that your chasers won't catch up.
Going round in circles in the finishing town of Ilok

19. Eventually find your way to the finish line and collapse, relieved, after learning that you're first in, about 20 miles ahead of the next rider.  In spite of all the stupidity, the time is 67 hours and 5 minutes - the race is won.
My unique gold medal and an experience I will treasure foreverEaten, showered, slept, and relieved - the winning prizes

Time to relax with food, drink, and good company on the banks of the Danube.
And relax...