The bits they editted out of The Cordillera

I have spent a good portion of my life’s allotment of Thursday evenings listening to Max Crawdaddy on 3RRR radio and it means that I do have a reasonable collection of 80s blues axe-gods on vinyl in the shed. One of my favourites was a guy called Roy Buchanan and he had a song called 25 miles. He sings of walking back home to his lady as he counts down the miles.

♫It's twenty five miles from home
Girl, my feet are hurting mighty bad♫

One of the few places on the divide that has regular milepost markers is the run into Antelope Wells and they are very welcome signs to see and you do count them down.

♫Come on feet don't fail me now
I got ten more miles to go♫

I did run a very conservative and cautious race strategy all the way down the Divide. I had to look after body, bike and brain and not always in that order. I may well have been too conservative at times but I suspect that is a rookie thing, all part of never really having been in any kind of bike race in my life, you just don’t know how hard and how far you can push yourself.

Bizarrely I thought it was my amazing bicycle falling apart in the last few miles. I could hear and feel all kinds of crunching from the left peddle and I had these visions of having to walk the final 10 miles to the border, which at this stage didn’t really worry me, it was super pleasant just being out there and you knew you were going to make it. It turns out the peddle crunching was all in my mind and we rolled on sweetly to the finish.

♫9, 8, 7, 6, 5 more miles to go….♫

I was desperately keen to catch back up with Michelle after having been apart for so long and having been acutely aware of how much she was worrying about me out there and having stopped early in Cliff the night before.

♫4, 3, 2, 1 more mile to go now… ♫

Then you finish, is that all there is? I have read many people talking about the fact there is nothing at Antelope Wells and it is all a bit anti-climactic. For me it is the perfect way to finish and other than maybe having someone very special there to meet me, I cannot think of a more appropriate way to complete the adventure. In many ways, the entire race is the ultimate in selfish endeavors. The finish should really be about self as well.

During the race, all of the living your life for and with others goes out the window, momentarily it is all about you. You don't have to worry about how anybody else is feeling, don't have to worry if the boss is happy or your staff are sick. You don't have to worry if there is enough milk in the fridge, or does the dog need to go for a walk. Don't need to worry about when the car insurance is due or needing to paint the mantle out the front because it is looking a bit weather beaten. You don't need to worry about whether it is the Sunday night that you ring and speak to mum or should I ring my sister because she rang last time. Is it bin night? Have I bought tickets to the football for next weekend yet? Does dad have enough wood in the shed for the rest of winter? Why haven't I seen Jaime for so long?  

None of that probably pretty important stuff matters for 3 weeks whilst you move slowly down the map. You are brought back to an elegant simplicity of eating, sleeping and cycling. Imagine being able to forget about all of that stuff for a bit because you are out there doing. In effect, all of the rewards need to come from within as well. 

There is a Buddhist parable sent to me by one of my best friends when I had written 15 paragraphs attempting to convey the why about my cycling endeavors.

Man: What is it about Zen that is special? All you do is sit and walk and eat.

Master: Yes. But when we sit, we know we are sitting. And when we walk, we know we are walking. And when we eat, we know we are eating.

When you race the Tour Divide, you know you are cycling, you know that you are eating and experiencing. The physicality of it. There is a connectedness with where you are and what you are doing.

I did have it suggested to me that I write about this as my one and only competitive cycling race, however, I am just not a competitive person and out on the course I wasn't competing against others. Particularly in the first half of the race I did push myself as hard as I could with the pitiful course and race knowledge that I had. I didn't check blue-spots at any stage or worry about where anyone else was. It was incredibly easy just to think that if I cycled as much as I could then anyone who finished in front of me has ridden really well and I probably would have been cheering them on.

I hope you understand how desperately proud I am of what I achieved out there and just getting to the starting line was a big part of that. If anything I have proven to myself that it is okay to start something big.