Why a bicycle race is special enough to attract 38 000 competitors
From the humblest of beginnings (the Argus started as a protest ride in aid of cycling paths in Cape Town), today Cape Town’s Pick’nPay Argus Cycle Race is the largest event of its kind in the world. This year it was even larger: a record 38 000 local and international cyclists took part. Unlike the Tour de France, this is a one day, once off event, although it is also the culmination of the Giro del Capo, which means a seamless combination of the last day’s stage of a professional bicycle race, with world class organization on a platter for the gargantuan cycling flocks of cyclists, representing all shapes and abilities.
For 30 years, on the 2nd weekend of every march, cyclists have gathered in the Mother City at around dawn, and cycled the scenic but challenging route around the Cape Peninsula. Seven cyclists (the so-called ‘Magnificent Seven’) have cycled in every tour for the last 30 years. One of them, Stephen Stefano, managed a credible 3:27 this year. Jappie Malan, the oldest rider (at 86 years old), finished in over 7 hours. The youngest rider in this year’s race was just 10 years old.
Even cycling legends Jan Ullrich – who recently announced his retirement – and American Greg Lemond (both Tour winners) and Steven Rooks joined the fun. Miguel Indurain has been here too. About two thirds of all competitors are locals from in and around Cape Town, another third (about 10 000) stream to Cape Town for the weekend from all across South Africa, and around 2000 come from abroad to take part. The Argus has something for everyone: from the most hardcore cyclists, to the up-for-it neighbour who has a rusty bicycle in his garage.
One commentator pointed out that a bicycle shop near Cape Town, in Stellenbosch, received a request just days before Sunday’s 2007 Argus, to do a ‘full service’ on a very sorry, moth eaten bicycle. The shop assistant asked: ‘When last was this bicycle ridden?’ The fellow answered: ‘At last year’s Argus’.
Others, like me, are more serious. 2007 will be my 4th Argus, but only my 2nd on the Chapman’s peak route (Chapman’s Peak Drive was closed due to falling rocks and reconstruction of the roads for a few years). I’m serious because the Argus presents a great opportunity and setting to test and measure myself, and to some extent to compete against other strong riders. After all, even my brother takes part, and plenty of other friends do as well. For us, the challenge is to break the 3 hour barrier. If you can do that, you’re assured of plenty of respect from other cyclists.
Another goal is to work your way up the rankings. When there are as many as 38 000 cyclists, these are sent off in echelons around 200 strong, at 5 minute intervals. They depart just after 6am, and this continues all morning, until around 11am. It’s better to leave early, not only because the weather tends to become worse (hotter, windier and wetter) later in the day, but also to be assured of being with talented riders who know their stuff. If you’re a strong rider in a group way down the seedings, like M, as I was last year, you’ll waste plenty of energy just trying to get around slower, clumsier cyclists. This year I am in C. I managed a 3:18 last year, and so I think this time the 3 hour barrier is in range.
The race begins immediately with a fairly steep climb along the flanks of Table Mountain, away from the city bowl. Once the legs have truly woken up, the road plunges down into a downward curve, the infamous ‘Hospital Bend’. The name conjures up injuries, and every year cyclists come to grief here, in the first 5 kilometres. The corner is really based on the fact that a hospital, Grootte Schuur, is nearby – where Dr. Chris Barnard performed the world’s first heart transplant.
A Nedbank rider clipped an orange cone descending Hospital Bend, swinging it into the road and bringing down a number of riders. 13 had to spend the night in hospital, but were reported to be doing ‘satisfactorily.’ In my group three riders got tangled up in the accordion a few hundreds metres after Hospital Bend. In events of this magnitude, 85 injuries out of a total of 38 000 is negligible.
Having survived possible carnage at Hospital Bend, the road saddles around the knees of Table Mountain, floating around the ivy covered University of Cape Town campus, and then dropping down once again before a turn up steep Edinburgh Drive. It’s a hard climb, and I lost touch with the majority of the C riders on this climb. Edinburgh Drive is an important climb. Climb it too slowly and you risk cycling alone along the fast and windy Blue Route. Cycle it too hard and you’re likely to feel it in the climbs that follow.
I went fairly conservatively, and fortunately formed a team of first three, then seven riders, including one chap who’d already fallen off the B bunch. Now we worked our way across the flat and fast but windswept Blue Route – a smooth highway that drops down from Table Mountain into an area filled with small vineyards and horsefilled paddocks. Ahead was a small peloton that included a local racer (that I considered a benchmark) and I didn’t want to lose touch with him. The Blue Route connects Cape Town with posh and pretty Constantia (where Lady Diana’s brother bought a house), and also the far off False Bay’s warmer beaches: Muizenberg, Fish Hoek and Simonstown. The road through Muizenberg is undulating, but tricky because of manhole covers, narrow twisting roads and traffic islands. All along the route here people are clapping and cheering, some even singing.
It’s once through Fish Hoek that the legs start to do serious work again. As we approached Simonstown (with its penguin colony) we’d reeled in my friend and his group, but the entire D group, who’d started 5 minutes behind us, swarmed around us.
I was actually happy about this, because the cycle out of Simonstown up to Smitswinkel (near Cape Point) is always very tough. It is not only steep, but usually against troublesome winds. With D enveloping us, streaming up the steep road alongside us, it made the climb much easier. My friend sprinted by me in the agonizing final yards of the climb, possibly to signal he wasn’t to be trifled with?
The road from Smitswinkel takes us incredibly quickly under a long, elegant avenue of Blue Gums. Then we swing left with the crushed white ocean spray licking our spokes and handlebars. This is Misty Cliffs, where the ocean roars in from the Antarctic, and the cyclists gradually fizzle into a blur of superspeed. On the edge of Misty Cliffs is Kommetjie, where the road lifts impatiently once again , and the wind tugs. This is where the legs remember the strain of Edinburgh Drive and Smitswinkel. Meanwhile, the arduous Chapman’s Peak looms ahead. The cliffs rise sheer out of the icy sea. We cycle along gentle, silky smooth roads between verdant vineyards and with some effort I manage to reel in my friend just before Chapman’s Peak. And then it is the work of getting over and around these cliffs, to Hout Bay.
Chapman’s Peak has windy, winding, slow climbing roads cut into cliffs suspended near vertically above the plunging sea below. Once over the top, the road swoops down and loops left and right. It’s easy to come unstuck here too, but the road is wide enough to offer a few opportunities for corrections and second chances.
Going down along the dunes in Hout Bay’s Princess Avenue I waved to my aunt, in a red blouse, and then a turn, and a tough, short climb with shops on either side. It’s a nasty appetizer for an even harder climb. Suikerbossie (literally: small sugar bush) is the nemesis of many a cyclist on the Argus. On its own it’s still a fairly steep hill. After so many sets of steep climbs though, and with less than 20km to go, Suikerbossie is excruciatingly hard. The muscles want to cramp. It’s hot. And the continuous climbing doesn’t end. The road presents an illusion that it carries on forever. It ascends steeply in a straight line, and then bends a little, suggesting a climb that just keeps on going. But Suikerbossie was good for me. I climbed away from my friend at the bottom of Suikerbossie, who until then appeared very intent on being motivated just to beat me, and managed to grab 3 vital water sachets. I’d perspired profusely and drained both water bottles, so the extra water was a lucky bonus.
At the top of Suikerbossie are 4 lanes for free falling, very fast riding, towards Camps Bay. That’s what we did, with a tandem taking the lead. In Camps Bay I waved at a friend and then noticed the magic hour had passed. We whisked through Clifton, and then the last tight turn before building up towards the finish line at Green Point Stadium. I crossed the line in 3:08. My brother did a 3:03. Another friend, who works for Standard Bank, did an excellent 2:48.
I’ll be back next year, like thousands of others, to see if I can do better. Meanwhile, like the countless people cycling in superman and batman suits, I want to come back once I’ve done myself proud, and ride it just to soak up the goodwill, the fun, and the enjoyment of this cycling feast. And I wonder when we’ll see Lance at the Argus?
For more information visit: www.cycletour.co.za
For 30 years, on the 2nd weekend of every march, cyclists have gathered in the Mother City at around dawn, and cycled the scenic but challenging route around the Cape Peninsula. Seven cyclists (the so-called ‘Magnificent Seven’) have cycled in every tour for the last 30 years. One of them, Stephen Stefano, managed a credible 3:27 this year. Jappie Malan, the oldest rider (at 86 years old), finished in over 7 hours. The youngest rider in this year’s race was just 10 years old.
Even cycling legends Jan Ullrich – who recently announced his retirement – and American Greg Lemond (both Tour winners) and Steven Rooks joined the fun. Miguel Indurain has been here too. About two thirds of all competitors are locals from in and around Cape Town, another third (about 10 000) stream to Cape Town for the weekend from all across South Africa, and around 2000 come from abroad to take part. The Argus has something for everyone: from the most hardcore cyclists, to the up-for-it neighbour who has a rusty bicycle in his garage.
One commentator pointed out that a bicycle shop near Cape Town, in Stellenbosch, received a request just days before Sunday’s 2007 Argus, to do a ‘full service’ on a very sorry, moth eaten bicycle. The shop assistant asked: ‘When last was this bicycle ridden?’ The fellow answered: ‘At last year’s Argus’.
Others, like me, are more serious. 2007 will be my 4th Argus, but only my 2nd on the Chapman’s peak route (Chapman’s Peak Drive was closed due to falling rocks and reconstruction of the roads for a few years). I’m serious because the Argus presents a great opportunity and setting to test and measure myself, and to some extent to compete against other strong riders. After all, even my brother takes part, and plenty of other friends do as well. For us, the challenge is to break the 3 hour barrier. If you can do that, you’re assured of plenty of respect from other cyclists.
Another goal is to work your way up the rankings. When there are as many as 38 000 cyclists, these are sent off in echelons around 200 strong, at 5 minute intervals. They depart just after 6am, and this continues all morning, until around 11am. It’s better to leave early, not only because the weather tends to become worse (hotter, windier and wetter) later in the day, but also to be assured of being with talented riders who know their stuff. If you’re a strong rider in a group way down the seedings, like M, as I was last year, you’ll waste plenty of energy just trying to get around slower, clumsier cyclists. This year I am in C. I managed a 3:18 last year, and so I think this time the 3 hour barrier is in range.
The race begins immediately with a fairly steep climb along the flanks of Table Mountain, away from the city bowl. Once the legs have truly woken up, the road plunges down into a downward curve, the infamous ‘Hospital Bend’. The name conjures up injuries, and every year cyclists come to grief here, in the first 5 kilometres. The corner is really based on the fact that a hospital, Grootte Schuur, is nearby – where Dr. Chris Barnard performed the world’s first heart transplant.
A Nedbank rider clipped an orange cone descending Hospital Bend, swinging it into the road and bringing down a number of riders. 13 had to spend the night in hospital, but were reported to be doing ‘satisfactorily.’ In my group three riders got tangled up in the accordion a few hundreds metres after Hospital Bend. In events of this magnitude, 85 injuries out of a total of 38 000 is negligible.
Having survived possible carnage at Hospital Bend, the road saddles around the knees of Table Mountain, floating around the ivy covered University of Cape Town campus, and then dropping down once again before a turn up steep Edinburgh Drive. It’s a hard climb, and I lost touch with the majority of the C riders on this climb. Edinburgh Drive is an important climb. Climb it too slowly and you risk cycling alone along the fast and windy Blue Route. Cycle it too hard and you’re likely to feel it in the climbs that follow.
I went fairly conservatively, and fortunately formed a team of first three, then seven riders, including one chap who’d already fallen off the B bunch. Now we worked our way across the flat and fast but windswept Blue Route – a smooth highway that drops down from Table Mountain into an area filled with small vineyards and horsefilled paddocks. Ahead was a small peloton that included a local racer (that I considered a benchmark) and I didn’t want to lose touch with him. The Blue Route connects Cape Town with posh and pretty Constantia (where Lady Diana’s brother bought a house), and also the far off False Bay’s warmer beaches: Muizenberg, Fish Hoek and Simonstown. The road through Muizenberg is undulating, but tricky because of manhole covers, narrow twisting roads and traffic islands. All along the route here people are clapping and cheering, some even singing.
It’s once through Fish Hoek that the legs start to do serious work again. As we approached Simonstown (with its penguin colony) we’d reeled in my friend and his group, but the entire D group, who’d started 5 minutes behind us, swarmed around us.
I was actually happy about this, because the cycle out of Simonstown up to Smitswinkel (near Cape Point) is always very tough. It is not only steep, but usually against troublesome winds. With D enveloping us, streaming up the steep road alongside us, it made the climb much easier. My friend sprinted by me in the agonizing final yards of the climb, possibly to signal he wasn’t to be trifled with?
The road from Smitswinkel takes us incredibly quickly under a long, elegant avenue of Blue Gums. Then we swing left with the crushed white ocean spray licking our spokes and handlebars. This is Misty Cliffs, where the ocean roars in from the Antarctic, and the cyclists gradually fizzle into a blur of superspeed. On the edge of Misty Cliffs is Kommetjie, where the road lifts impatiently once again , and the wind tugs. This is where the legs remember the strain of Edinburgh Drive and Smitswinkel. Meanwhile, the arduous Chapman’s Peak looms ahead. The cliffs rise sheer out of the icy sea. We cycle along gentle, silky smooth roads between verdant vineyards and with some effort I manage to reel in my friend just before Chapman’s Peak. And then it is the work of getting over and around these cliffs, to Hout Bay.
Chapman’s Peak has windy, winding, slow climbing roads cut into cliffs suspended near vertically above the plunging sea below. Once over the top, the road swoops down and loops left and right. It’s easy to come unstuck here too, but the road is wide enough to offer a few opportunities for corrections and second chances.
Going down along the dunes in Hout Bay’s Princess Avenue I waved to my aunt, in a red blouse, and then a turn, and a tough, short climb with shops on either side. It’s a nasty appetizer for an even harder climb. Suikerbossie (literally: small sugar bush) is the nemesis of many a cyclist on the Argus. On its own it’s still a fairly steep hill. After so many sets of steep climbs though, and with less than 20km to go, Suikerbossie is excruciatingly hard. The muscles want to cramp. It’s hot. And the continuous climbing doesn’t end. The road presents an illusion that it carries on forever. It ascends steeply in a straight line, and then bends a little, suggesting a climb that just keeps on going. But Suikerbossie was good for me. I climbed away from my friend at the bottom of Suikerbossie, who until then appeared very intent on being motivated just to beat me, and managed to grab 3 vital water sachets. I’d perspired profusely and drained both water bottles, so the extra water was a lucky bonus.
At the top of Suikerbossie are 4 lanes for free falling, very fast riding, towards Camps Bay. That’s what we did, with a tandem taking the lead. In Camps Bay I waved at a friend and then noticed the magic hour had passed. We whisked through Clifton, and then the last tight turn before building up towards the finish line at Green Point Stadium. I crossed the line in 3:08. My brother did a 3:03. Another friend, who works for Standard Bank, did an excellent 2:48.
I’ll be back next year, like thousands of others, to see if I can do better. Meanwhile, like the countless people cycling in superman and batman suits, I want to come back once I’ve done myself proud, and ride it just to soak up the goodwill, the fun, and the enjoyment of this cycling feast. And I wonder when we’ll see Lance at the Argus?
For more information visit: www.cycletour.co.za
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