All Freedom Challengers have heard the
horror stories of Stettynskloof – “the kloof that shall not be named”. The route to Diemers is only about 50km long,
but takes the most part of the day – that is in normal weather. Generally the plan is to leave very early to
do the climb to the dam wall and the first 3 km to the inlet of the dam in the
dark (it takes about 2-3hours). When the
other 3 woke us up at 4:30am, it was clear that the storm was still raging
outside. Us 4 that were caught in the
storm the previous day were very lethargic – everything happened slowly.
When the others left at 5:30am, we were
still getting ready. We raided others
boxes for as much food as we can get. We
ate breakfast at 4:30, and are not going to get food again until we
finish. Many riders make the mistake of
not taking enough food for this day. As
we walked out the door (around 6:30am) our Scotty stopped us. He wanted to say
a prayer for us for this day – Leon started off this habit where we held hands
and prayed at breakfast, lunch and dinner stops. This was the 1st time that Scotty
asked to lead the prayer.
We made very good time to the inlet of the
dam, where we got stuck. The narratives
said that we had to cross the stream.
The stream however was a raging river with all the rain that fell the
night before. JT and I wanted to cross,
Leon and Scott had more sense. They picked out a route higher up the right side
of the valley. Because of the dense
foliage, it’s impossible to try to follow the river up the valley. It was the right choice of route under the
circumstances. However, it was slow
going to get down the small cliffs and thru the washed away rocky streams (like
big dongas).
We caught up to the other 3 near the
Schakleton crash site – the plane crashed here in 1960, killing all people on
board. Pieces of the plane wreck are
spread over a very large area. It’s
still there as if it just happened yesterday – a bit eerie. There is a small bronze plague erected in
memory of those who died. The normal
route goes around a rocky outcrop below this plague. The plague, however, were way below us. I noticed this and mentioned it to the
others. They were reluctant to go
down.
My mind work in pictures, once I’ve been at
a place, I’ll remember it in fairly good detail. I’ve done Stettyns a year before. A few minutes later I spotted some green grey
builders down near the river – where the path goes over. Because the route we followed was terribly
slow, I announced that I’m going down to where the path is and started climbing
down. I’m not sure if it was my
confidence, the crap route we were trying to follow, or the cold numbness of
the persistent driving rain, but everybody followed me.
When we eventually got to the builders, I
found a stacked stone cairn. This was
put there by previous year’s riders.
This is the path that we had to follow.
Scotty took control of the path finding – he had the amazing ability to
spot these stacked stone cairns. Closer
to the end of the valley we lost the path, but that is Stettyns. Sometimes you just had to barge thru the
foliage. The last 300m, you’re crawling
on all fours, grabbing hold of whatever you can, whilst balancing your bike on
your back.
A the top you can admire the beauty of the
kloof, the water falls, ridges, vegetation, everything. However, your body feels and looks like it’s
been in the ring with Mike Tyson, armed with an axe and a hammer for 10
rounds. Blood is seeping out everywhere
on your legs and your body feels properly battered. And you wonder how a place of such beauty can
hold so much suffering.
The demand of this race on your body, day
in and day out, never ceases. You have
to continually manage your abilities, your mental state of mind, your energy
levels and your general physical state of well being to keep going.
The rest of the route goes thru the
picturesque Fisantekraal, up the Du Toits Kloof Pass and then it’s downhill to
Diemersfontein. Du Toits Kloof Pass
gives you time for reflection on this race.
On what a great adventure you’ve been privileged to experience. On how great life is. And how important your
family and friends are in life.
As we dropped down into the estate, Marnitz
was waiting at the top gate. It was dark
and my bike light stopped working – I didn’t recognise him until JT told me
later. Earlier in the day Leon warned JT
that he and I will get emotional at the finish.
JT was having none of it, but mentioned that it would be ok to cry only
if it rains. Well as we rode the last
couple hundred meters, it started to rain softly.
But the raw emotions of relief, happiness
and accomplishment never fully took over.
The kids gathered just in front of the finish. As we rode past, Hanno (my youngest) screamed:
“Pappa! Pappa!” Grabbed my hand off the handlebar and held on for dear
life! The next moment Luann (my oldest)
and Danielle (Marnitz’a daughter) were on the other side. I had my emotional moment for about 4
seconds, before I got doused with champagne and then it was just people and
photos and hugs and questions and phone calls.
It was overwhelming.
Apparently the very lively Brackenfellars
(and everybody else) waited the whole afternoon for us, and made a big dent in
the Diemersfontein red wine stock doing so.
I was thankful for the reception I got.
It was good to see so many happy people together. But, I would have like it, if the 4 of us,
with our families could have sat around the table for one last time. We’ve been thru a lot together, it would have
been fun. But there were so many people
and everybody wanted their share of our (and their) experience. Leon’s and my family had breakfast together
the next morning where we had some reminiscence.
The last funnies that happened later the
evening.
Things were a bit hectic in the restaurant,
and I was still dripping wet and cold. I
told Elitza that I needed to go for a shower and off we went to our
cottage. As we walked there I was
feeling very miserable, with my body shivering and teeth clattering. I told Elitza that if I ever want to do this
race again, she must shoot me. She just
laughed at me, and said you’re a Nienaber, you will never change, we’ll talk
again in the morning. After the hot
shower and some food in the belly, I was already contemplating what I would do
different for next year… I suppose, after living together for more than half
our lives, she knows me way too well.
Marnitz and I were standing outside the
restaurant having a chat, when one of Leon’s fellow Brakkenfellars came walking
out on his way home. He said goodbye to
me (calling me Werner), and mentioned that there were so many people that
excitedly followed me with all my adventures.
He then turned to Marnitz to say goodbye, but he forgot his name. He said: “You’re famous man, don’t tell me
your name. Ag man, I know it. You’re Werner’s brother!” We both had a good chuckle about this,
because throughout the whole race, everywhere I went, I was called you’re
Marnitz’s bother.
What
I’ve learned:
This race breaks you down to the raw fibres
of who you really are. If you don’t pray
already, it teaches you to pray. It
teaches you to appreciate the very special moments you have in life.
South Africa is beautiful and it’s filled
with incredible people. You just have to
choose to see the beauty surrounding you.
The journey was just that – an incredible journey of self-discovery and
experiences, meeting incredible people and beautiful places.
As in life, you’re going to fall of your
bike (or break it). You have to be brave
enough to get up and get going again. Failure doesn’t mean you’ve given up on
your dreams. You have to plan and
prepare better to get it done. All the
pain and suffering of the past failures, gave way to an emotional elation that
I followed a dream (started off by Marnitz).
I failed twice before, but came back and finished it.
And in Clint le Roux’s words: “This race is
hard on your mind, your body and your soul.
It’s uplifting at times. It’s
frustrating too. It motivates you, but
it also breaks you. This race teaches
you things you have forgotten about yourself, as well as new things that need
to be learned. Most of all it humbles
you.”
A lot of the terrain covered is brutal to
say the least. Spectators following our
dots on Google Earth see a jeep track.
We are seeing and riding a rock garden.
Spectators see what they believe to be a flat district road. We ride a 20 km ascent, littered with
drainage mounds, with no reprieve. There
are many different variables and perceptions of what is actually being
experienced vs what the spectators think is going on. I’ve been on both sides of this experience.
Weather changes everything in this race.
And I suppose that my race is pretty much
the same struggle autistic kids experience every day. You need a proper support system around you
to help you get thru life. You need a
lot of prayers and a bit of luck. And
with a bit of vasbyt, you’ll get to shine your light in life.
