Bringing The Fire

There wasn’t going to be fireworks this race, it was going to be a patient burn. The relatively short 104km course left a lot to be desired with nothing more than a few roughly surfaced uphill drags and undulations to test the peloton. I wanted a hard race so, even though I was happy it wasn’t another 38°C day like TT champs, I knew the parcours weren’t enough to make the race. 

My strategy became more about patience rather than power. In the past, I probably would have attacked a lot, tried to liven up the race and risked the win in favour of good racing; but with experience comes composure. We ticked over the majority of the race but, finally, with 12km to go, I turned up the heat and attacked. Carla Oberholzer came with me and, although we were working well together, we were brought back by the bunch with 5km to go. The composure I had maintained the whole race was wearing thin.

Just then, however, we rolled over a section of really rough rumble strips and suddenly, my gears were frozen. Luckily, I was stuck in the middle of the cassette but then, of course, someone attacked on the downhill. With some furious cadence I was able to stay with the bunch and thankfully no one seemed to noticed. I couldn’t believe it. I had kept it together the whole race and now, with the national title being decided in a matter of kilometres, I only had two gears. 

Image: Cyclenation

This was really the moment for composure. But it was also the moment for fire. I wanted the win badly and, two gears or no gears, I had to keep it together and wait for the right moment. I took a calming breath, I got into position, and at the exact spot I had planned, I laid it down. I had the lead but the entire bunch reacted and I could feel the heat of the chase. By less than a second, I crossed the line first and took the title.

The rush of winning is always special but, unlike most races, the national champs win is something you get to be proud of every time you pull on the jersey. I’m really proud of the way I raced; even when it was time to bring the fire, I kept my cool from start to finish. Especially in an Olympic year, I’ll be proud to wear the South African colours for the 2020 European season. 

What's The Big Deal?

It felt here nor there to me, I thought, deciding whether or not to go the USA. I wasn't sure whether I would race the Tour of California but, if I did, I would spend a week in Boulder first for some altitude and solid training. I was still recovering from my crash at Amstel Gold Race. What seemed like an insignificant pavement slam had done some damage in my lower back and things were not quite perfect yet. I was ready to train but was I ready to race? Was all the travel worth it? What was the big deal about Boulder anyway?

Even though the weather forecast looked awful, some coaxing from a locally placed friend was enough to sway the vote and I was off to Colorado. Arriving in Denver, I was less than impressed with the flat terrain. Where were the mountains?

With jet lag brain, I stared out the window but then it started. The horizon grew into a jagged silhouette and with it my excitement. I saw the Flatirons, massive rocks in the shape of clothing irons, and the landscape grew evermore impressive the closer we came to Boulder. By the time we got to our accommodation, jet lag had been overruled by excitement.

The next morning felt like Christmas. With so many new roads high up, places to see, and bad weather coming later in the week, the blue-sky day was the perfect opportunity to get in a massive ride. The route was called Peak-to-Peak, a famous local loop of 120km with 3,000m of climbing.

The Rocky Mountain terrain was different from the European mountains I knew. The roads were straighter and, without the signal of a switchback, deceptively steep. Instead of going up and down mountains, it was more riding up canyons and staying along the top. Riding up at 2500-3000m for so long was a new experience. The entire day was spent in the saddle and it was one of those fulfilling memorable rides that left me tired, excited, and motivated. I’ve never fallen out of love with cycling but this felt like it was happening all over again.

The predicted bad weather arrived and sat over Boulder for the next few days. I wasn’t bothered by a snow day after such a big first day and it was good to have some easier inside rides to adjust to the altitude. By the time the clouds and snow cleared, I was ready to enjoy the sun and mountains again. I was also ready for the Tour of California. I felt so energized, motivated, and simply happy after only a few days of riding.

So, I got it: Boulder was pretty special. There was a reason why it was so famous, why so many athletes lived there, and why it attracted so many more to come and visit.

The last time I had felt such a jolt of energy was the first time I rode in Banyoles and I ended up moving there. I’m still in love with the Girona area so I definitely won’t be moving to Boulder, but it reminded me about how special that feeling was.

The pure joy of riding a bike that every cyclist has felt before. It’s the feeling we are always chasing and remembering; it’s the feeling I want to share with others when they come stay with us at Rocacorba Cycling; it was the feeling that made Boulder a pretty big deal.

I’ll never forget it and I’ll definitely be back.

Setmana Ciclista Valenciana

Off the back of a fantastic 10 day training camp at Rocacorba Cycling, it was finally time to get on a start line again. Our European opener was the four stage Setmana Ciclista Valenciana, just down the coast from Girona and it really did feel like an early season race.

The bunch was basically a bundle of nerves. A winter’s worth of race anticipation unleashed a series of crashes that claimed many riders. Fortunately, the whole team managed to stay upright and out of trouble and, by the third stage, we we well positioned to put our attack plan into motion. 

Stage Three was the queen stage and the obvious crux that would decide the general classification was Xorret de Catí. I had looked at the parcours but it wasn’t until we reconned the climb a few days before the race that I realised how completely savage it was. A part of the Vuelta Espana many times in the past, the 4km climb has an average gradient of 11% with much steeper sections, especially during the second half the climb. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw; the last 2km were savage! I like steep climbs more than most but this early in the season, I felt a little underprepared! 

The stage was completely predictable but it wasn’t lacking in fireworks. A break had gone after the longer climb leading up the Xorret de Catí, with one of the riders, Soraya Paladin, having some valuable GC time. It wasn’t ideal but, as a team, we decided to stick to the plan, let the break go, and save it for the big beast of a climb that lay ahead. We hit the bottom and Movistar took control and set a demanding pace. Attacks started, including one from us, and chasers ramped up the pace again. I sat in and eventually we were down to a few riders and the fight was on. 

The road was decorated with names and there were sections lined with encouraging spectators but not for one second did I forget about me legs when the road tilted up and over 15%, 20%, and more. We caught what was left of the break but Clara Koppenburg stayed out of the saddle and mashed her way past the break and to the front of the race. It took me a bit longer to work my way past the break and by the time I had, Clara had a spacious gap. By the summit, Clara was clearly on her way to victory and I was coming in for second. 

Although I finished ahead of Paladin, her time advantage from the previous stage wasn’t to be overcome on the next day and neither was the 49 seconds that Koppenburg had claimed on the Catí. As the fourth and final stage ended with a bunch sprint, the GC unchanged, third was a great way to both finish our training camp and start our European season. Onwards and orange ;)