Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
Steve Pike
PAIN is an integral part of sport, win or lose.
Bombing along a rocky single track in the Slang Hoek Valley near Worcester last week, I was trying to keep up with a bunch of semi-professional cyclists when I ended up lying in a painful heap, entangled in some scraggly bushes and a pole after an intimate dalliance with a large white rock.
We were test riding a section of the Gravel and Grape Extreme MTB race held in May. Founding editor of website Bike Hub, Matt Eager, was way ahead, shredding the trail, while Ride Magazine editor and multiple holder of various speed records on Strava, Tim Brink, was politely following me.
He was riding a hybrid bike with no tread and no suspension, smoothly surviving lung-busting ascents over rough, rocky terrain and sweeping but sandy descents littered with loose stones.
My impact zone was the result of anything but smooth – a rookie error.
Riding a twisty, narrow downhill single track, I put on a spurt of speed to catch up with the lead group, and did not properly calibrate a technical feature that came up suddenly.
Instead of leaning back and possibly even doing a minor “manual” to lift the front wheel up to safely cruise over a two foot drop-off, I gleefully ramped the rock with too much forward momentum and no preparation.
The front wheel hit the ground first, and the bike continued rolling in what skilled riders do with ease – the “endo”.
An endo is the reverse of a wheelie, when you pop the back wheel up and roll along on your front wheel. Now this is normally fine, particularly for people who do it on purpose.
They can be ridden out successfully. Sadly for knee, shin and ego, another white boulder put paid to that thought. The wheel hit the rock. I bounced onto it. I fell heavily, splitting open my shin and falling on my other knee. Eina! It was sore.
Fortunately, I suffered no major damage, apart from dented pride, and able to continue in moderate discomfort.
Of course adventure sports are dangerous. Talk to any serious MTB Downhill rider or wingsuit nutter, and they’ll boast enough metal bolted onto bones to build a stretch limo. Big wave surfers talk of near drownings, torn muscles and bust eardrums.
But it’s often the innocuous that will trip you up. It’s the small wave, or the rocks you clamber over on your way in or out. Sometimes its the slow motion bike fail that hurts the most, like when you lose balance in a mildly challenging section (okay a robot is not challenging), and fail to uncleat.
Most mishaps can be prevented if you keep your focus, and don’t let your concentration waver. But the most valuable lesson has to do with hubris. Never let it surface, even in those split second moments. That’s when you become an accident waiting to happen.