The reluctant rider

Ruapehu Bulletin, Volume 10, Issue 462, 17 November 1992, Page 14

The reluctant rider

thought I'd stick with it to the Desert Road summit. (And if I could get over that hurdle - just maybe I could actually finish the whole ride?) But you wouldn't believe the head wind. I rode past Moawhango wishing I'd chosen to go sailing to make better use of the 20-30 knot winds. I could have walked faster and I'm sure when I took a break from pedalling I was going backwards. Jon battled hard and stretched out a two-kilo-metre gap, and the 'sad wagon' was off picking up some other sufferer, so I sneaked a snack stop. But I paid dearly for it when, leaning over to pick up a dropped precious biscuit, cramp locked up both legs. Pedalling away in the lowest gear possible cleared the'pain and the cramp, but it gave me ideas. "Maybe I could fake a pulled muscle?" and "where's a stick - 1*11 wreck the derailleur" were thoughts passing by. But I stuck with it thinking the summit was just at the end of the next never-ending Desert Road straight. But a few centuries later I noticed, way off in the distance, a truck sweeping up a lefthand bend. The bloody

Summit was still eight kilometres away? "That's it. The Summit was going to be my targetl," I decided. Foolish thoughts Once past the Summit foolishness set in again and I thought that having made that hurdle I could finish this ride. The next drink stop people, the Bennetts, were well entertained by our arrival. "Your wives have just left here (driving) - we thought everyone had been through so they've headed back to Ohakune looking for you in the leading bunch!" said Mrs Bennett. (A few more wise cracks like that and I'd be forced to complete this ride) "I '11 carry on to Rangipo, then I'm going home," I told the sad wagon men, who by this stage were looking more and more like vultures, creeping up behind us just when I felt like faking a crash. Achy breaky ... But thanks to the down-hill slope and the loss of the wind, I started to enjoy the riding again. By now my backside was supposed to be well and truly broken, but the only part of me that really ached now was the bits between my toes and my nose. The Sisters were fun,

zooming downhill and round the bends, then into the short uphills. And the run down to Rangipo was 'a blast'. Lots of jokes and prattle and the Rangipo drink stop (we stopped at every one by the way - adding up to about half an hour to our time), and foolish thoughts again crept in. "I'll see how I go to the next drink stop." But it was the ride past Rotoaira that finished me. We had time to figure out how much uphill riding there was to go, and how long it was going to take to get home.. The meal was scheduled for 6pm and I knew I was going to miss out at my pedalling rate. (Can't miss the free meal!) I decided to make use of the vultures - er, sad wagon and take the short cut back home. We passed a halfdozen battlers heading home and I felt a twang of regret that I had pulled out, which was repeated

later when I saw the other riders getting certificates for finishing. But only small twangs. I was pleased with my efforts considering my fitness. I can still see the faces of friends amazed to see me in the ride, and others more amazed that I managed almost 100 kilometres. Others looked puzzled at my pride when I said I managed to ride to the Tokaanu turn-off. With a bit more training, a road bike and hopefully less head winds, next year I'll complete the ride, and suffer much less. And if I'm not carrying those extra 5-10 kilos around the waist I will probably be able to ride faster because I'll be able to tuck over the handle bars better! P.S. Jon made good speed once he wasn't dragging me around and caught up and passed the next straggler, 10 kilometres ahead!