The Rice Mountain Classic is one of the ‘big’ races for the PNP Cycling Club and I was keen to give it a go. I nervously entered B grade - 140km (C grade’s race was much shorter) as my cracked ribs were still giving me issues.
Surprisingly the pace early on was easy going, in fact too easy as C grade which started 3 minutes behind caught us like we were standing still. The pace picked up with some of the young C Grade kids taking off and having their 5 minutes of glory.
On the first major hill the real contenders went to the front and set to work. Hill climbing has never been my strong point so it was a matter of survival. I hoped I would be able to catch them on the down hill – wrong! As soon as I crested the top the skies opened up and it poured down. This neutralised my plan and actually slowed me down as I hadn’t spent much time on my road bike and wasn’t prepared to take any risks.
After a few agonising kms along the flat, a few of us formed a group and managed to rejoin the lead group. We stuck together through the turn around point and were making our way back, when I experienced a low patch around the same time the bunch started a long steady climb into a head wind. Slowly, ever so slowly, I drifted off the back.
Once I lost the bunch I eased up to wait for the next bunch. Unfortunately an experienced triathlete named Peter Kane caught me before the bunch did. He asked me if I wanted to do a 2 up TT with him for the rest of the race – 60km. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep up with him but the idea of riding alone into a strong head wind wasn’t appealing, so I decided I would give it a try.
I took my turns when I could and we slowly ticked off the Kms. The rain eased up but the headwind remained relentless. Peter and I stayed together until the finish line even though he towed me near the end. I ran out of fluids with about 20km to go. What surprised me the most was I consumed 4 bottles of fluid and needed 1 more, Peter did the entire race on 2 and finished with a few sips left.
Once I crossed the finish line I gingerly made my way into town, bought a nice cold bottle of Coke, sat in the shade and cherished every single drop!
Note: In New Zealand, caned means to be beaten by a large amount, in this recount, I was caned by Peter kane.
