in my life.

The Karapoti Classic Mountain Bike Race - 50km 

Excruciating. I’m still in pain.  I wish I hadn’t already used the “of my life” line in a previous post. I would like to say that was the hardest race I’ve ever done in my life, but I don’t want to anyone to think I’m just an exaggerator. But it was…

For me, the excitement started on March 4^th, the day before the race. I woke up at 5:40am to make my breakfast, finish packing, and to make my way to Picton. At 11:00am I caught the Interislander ferry to Wellington, and felt seasick for the entire 3 hr trip. Once I arrived, I picked up my sweet swag bag at a bike shop then hopped on a train to Upper Hutt, a small township within the region of Wellington. I was hoping to find a cheap hostel near the race site, but the man (Paul) at the information center informed me that since Upper Hut isn’t a popular backpackers destination, there isn’t really any cheap accommodation.

Paul was the best person I could have met that day. He told me that he was hosting 5 guys that were taking part in the race the next day, and that although his house was full, he would call his neighbors to see if they’d be willing to take me in for the night. So I ended up staying at Paul’s neighbors beautiful home, which was about 500m from the race site. I really couldn’t believe my luck. They were the nicest couple of all time, and they gave me my own room and bathroom for the night. Paul invited me over for dinner where I met the other racers staying at his house, 4 Tasmanians who organize a 4-day, 7-stage race in Tasmania called “Wildside” (www.wildsidemtb.com), and 1 Canadian, Tomas Skinner who has been traveling and riding around New Zealand for the past few weeks.

Anyways, great people, amazing luck, and beautiful location.

Would I do this again? Hmmm I think not…

At the start of the race, we all lined up ankle deep in a fast(ish), flowing river. The bridge overhead was lined with enthusiastic spectators. As my category waited and watched the elite/expert men start their race across the river, it became obvious that the shortest distance across was the deepest and the most risky. The guys who chose the longer, more indirect route didn’t have to battle as much against the waist deep current. Considering my height, I chose to take the longer, shallower route. The water level was still past my knees, so I think I made the right choice. Although the combination of algae-covered rocks and my lack of ability to easily shift my balance made for a slippery and dangerous river crossing, it was hard not to enjoy it.

1st river crossing - starts muy shallow gets muy deep

I was having a great race for the first 25-30kms, sticking with some speedy chicas that were setting a good pace. Then we hit the “unride-able” section of the race called “Devil’s Staircase”. It made me want to cry. You had to carry your bike on your shoulders up the biggest and steepest hillclimb I’ve ever seen IN MY LIFE (in a race situation). The climb went on and on and on and on and..on and on for ~2.5km.  I had lost one of my water bottles on a rocky descent prior to this section, and had forgotten my cliff blocks in my warm-up jacket. Ooooo it was bad. Partway up the climb, I assumed a cheerleading role and pulled off to the side to encourage others on. I really needed the break. I did finish this race, but barely. The race ended with the same river crossing that started the race in reverse, but this time I had to resist the desire to drop to my knees and float away. I raced for 3hrs and 58mins. Longest race of my life.

In the end I won!...a participation medal. And that’s the end of the Karapoti chapter of my life.

I have a few pictures and the GPS data marking out the course that I will upload in due time.

I hope your first 2 races this season go better than mine!

Over and out n’ about in Wellington.

e.bruised