Tour de Maputo

Hello loyal readers. Here is another instalment on the Mozambican cycling scene. The latest event was the "Tour de Maputo" which took place between the 25th and 27th of June. The 25th is Independence day which meant we had a long weekend on our hands which was perfect for staging the 3 events. The event times would be cumulative with the winner having the lowest overall time.

Day 1 was 4 loops of the Mozal road for a total 83km's. The previous record for this distance was 2 hours and 27 set in 2008 by Duncan Wyness. The route takes in the infamous Matola climb that is a fairly arduous kilometre of climbing. Wind was a factor on the day, and increased in intensity as the race progressed. An early break by Imran and Messias lasted into the second loop, after which they were caught and a new attack was staged by Mario, Joao Antonio and Kinha, who managed to stay in the front till the end of the race. First place went to Mario Traversi (yours truly), sprinting for the finish, Joao Antonio a close 2nd and Antonio (Kinha) Fonseca in 3rd place. Winning time was 2:23.

Day 2 was an individual time trial (ITT for short) on the same course for a distance of 26Km's. Riders set off at 2 minute intervals into a lively breeze, doing a loop and a half. Joao Antonio managed to avenge himself of the previous day second placement by doing a credible 42 minutes for first place. Second place was shared by Mario Traversi and Imran Akuji on 44 minutes and Kinha Fonseca in third place on 45 minutes.

Day 3 was the Maputo city criterium circuit, taking in a short stiff climb up to the Municipality, a long and steep climb up Av.V.Lenine and then right to Av.P.Lumumba and a short and fast descent down the viaduct. The course took in many corners and the wind was also a factor. The Municipal and Traffic Police were on-hand to escort the cyclists around their route and stop traffic where necessary, and their assistance was greatly appreciated. Right from the start-line Imran made a solo attack but the peloton kept him in their sights and by the second circuit had reeled him in. Then Kinha counter-attacked, but again he was kept under control by Joao Antonio and Mario, and eventually they bridged up to him and a game of cat and mouse ensued on the way up to the hill for the first bonus points of the day. This front group stayed the same with Imran close behind in fourth place. On the final circuit Kinha pulled out with a case of the Bonk and Mario and Joao Antonio tackled the final climb. Unable to shake Joao Antonio on the climb meant a fast descent on the viaduct, overtaking the escorting motorbike and ploughing into the traffic on the Robert Mugabe traffic Circle. Joao Antonio managed a better line through the traffic and hurtled into a powerful sprint on the final straight to the finish in just under 3 hours.

The final classification for the event:
1st place - Joao Antonio
2nd place - Mario Traversi
3rd place - Imran Akuji

For race commentary in Portuguese as well as results and times of all participants please visit:
Copa Ciclismo Site

Random notes about cycling in Maputo

This morning it was cold, bitingly cold with the southerly wind blowing in from the Cape. I could hardly feel my fingers so I think it's time to get some full-length gloves. The streets were completely empty and quiet, but occasionally I'd pass a shadow, a walker or runner, even more surprised at the quick swish of the wind as I flew past. For a split second I imagined their bewildered faces, but the rough tarmac and cold in my fingers brought me quickly back to my bike and the whirring sound of my tyres. It's cold, but there is a certain clarity in the morning. Gone are the noises, the lights, the distracting bustle and chaos of vehicles and people. There is a purity in the morning, and I feel at one with my bike, a quick flick of my numb fingers to go up a gear and settle into a nice efficient rhythm. My legs spin quickly and it is only as I round the Marginal Point that the full blast of the morning wind hits me and slows me down. Another flick of the gear lever. My chain is now twisting from the front large chain ring across to the largest rear cog, but all I hear is a quiet whirring as I keep my cadence constant, even increasing as the wind lessens while I'm going under the bridge. The light has a peculiar quality.. a sort of musty orange. Occasionally a light goes out and I'm left with my puny headlamp lighting my little island of tarmac ahead of me, barely the size of my bike. I have to cycle on trust, on instinct. No point in stopping or going back. A puncture out here would be annoying, in the cold windy air. I am aware of shapes in the corners of my eyes.
People wandering around. Some going to work. Some wandering. The sense of purity becomes poisoned by these shapes. There is an unease when they are there in the background, like ghosts. Once in the full light of the lamp-posts or the shop-windows their mystery is gone and the panic subsides. Guard, Driver, streetwalker, wanderer, cyclist.
I must appear the same to them, a silent apparition that is gone almost as quickly as they become aware of me. I silently cut through the air. The whirring noise, maybe I just feel it, judging by the faces as I float past on a carpet of air.
I am in a pool of black. Behind me the dim lights cast long shadows. Ahead complete
darkness. My headlamp does little to show the road, but acts like a beacon. I continue on, comforted by the whirring, my pedal-strokes and my breathing, rhythmic. My body is warmer but still my fingers suffer with numbness and cold. But the wind is dying down, drifting away, dissipating. As I turn around I see the black sky recede to dark blue as the horizon starts to lighten. There are bright stars and planets out, shining their last light as morning approaches.
I am going faster now, my breaths getting a little shorter. The whirring has turned into a hum and the chain, now seated correctly in a straight line over the cogs is turning smoothly. The brightening sky means I can look for the smoother patches of tarmac, avoid the bumps and imperfections in the road. At the Marginal point though, the smooth tarmac runs out and the humming has turned into a low rumble. The world is still in silence around me so the humming sounds loud to my ears, and the tremors in the bike make me sit up and take a turn out of the saddle, shift my weight about, unclench my hands. The high tyre pressure amplifies the road imperfections. I feel every microscopic dip and jag of the stones in the bituminous emulsion, and the rough patches where holes have been filled in. To my right I have the sea, silent and dark, but above the sky is turning lighter, dark blue to blue to the faintest wiff of warm orange.. almost like the lamp-posts, but instinctively I know it's warm. I turn my head towards the road. This section is rough. Soon enough the road juts up and I quicken my pace to carry my speed over the rise. More patches on the road.. the road almost made up of patches. I can hear the birds now, swarms chirping away in the trees. And slowly the cars awaken and fly past. The silence is broken. The darkness is broken. The perfect stillness of the morning night is over and my tired body steers the bike home, up the last uphill.

Photo courtesy of Miguel Duarte

Upcomming Road races in Mpumalanga

There are two interesting Road races to consider this year - The Jock Cycle Classique on the 24th of July and the Clover Lowveld Tour from the 23rd to 26th of September. I will be doing both, and they promise some exceptional scenery, some very tough but rewarding climbs, and they're next door to Mapuo. What better combination?! Links are below for those interested in taking part:

www.cyclelab.com/default.asp?Id=188&des=content#JockClassique"

http://cyclingnews.co.za

The Jock has reverted to it's original format of a single day stage race, with the 150km broken down into more manageable but still painful bites. Think of taking smaller bites out of a chilli, instead of eating it in one bite. This makes it into an all-day event with breakfast and lunch served between stages 2 and 3. Quite civilised. Let's see how the Lowvelders manage to cook pasta..

The Clover Lowveld tour is a 5 stage 4 day race and will feature some of the most beautiful climbs and scenery in the ironically named Lowveld. There is nothing low about this area, with high mountains and steep valley roads. I have trouble driving around by car, so we'll see how we fare on a bike!

Twin Peaks / Dois Picos Classic Bicycle Race

Twin Peaks – Dois Picos
A title of a famous American television serial drama, or the toughest cycle race in the Copa-Ciclismo calendar, organized by the Clube de Ciclismo de Moçambique? What do the two things have in common? Not much, except a lot of pain and suffering. At 152km it is the longest race currently in the calendar, but throw in the two hill-top climbs and you have 1580m of climbing as well. This is for Mozambican die-hard cycle fans only, and for the normally flat rides in Maputo, with its dearth of hills and mountains, it is a really severe experience. Naturally enough, the field was small, as not many felt confident in completing the distance. Also a rival MTB race in Swaziland the day before diverted the attention of some of the expat cyclists, and any remaining expat cyclists (read Matt) found themselves comfortably tucked in their beds with a warm body for company. Certainly no incentive to face a cold start and long race.
So, preliminaries aside, let’s get on with the main event. Starters assembled at the Galp Petrol Station in Boane from 6:30 onwards, although in true Mozambican style the race only got underway at around 8am. Some were a bit overdressed with leg and arm-warmers and multiple layers, as it was a cool 16 degrees, while others choosing to tough it out in jersey and shorts. We’ll find out later which strategy worked he best.
Setting off, the cyclists went over Boane hill, which on our return would serve as the finish. For the first few km’s cyclists stretched their legs and warmed up but soon there was hard work to climb Pedreira Hill, which strung out the field a bit. A fast descent ensured the field rejoined the breakaway climbing group. Then it was mostly cycling single file along the flat 20km’s to the foot of the first hill, with Miguel, Imran and Mario taking turns at the front. Mandevo loomed and for the first half of the climb the group stayed compact, but on a false rise leading to a fast descent Angelo feigned and opened up the chance for Mario to attack, quickly disappearing from view down the steep descent. The attack was risky as Namaacha was still 5km’s away. A split in the field resulted with chasers Miguel and Kinha hot on Mario’s heels, finally catching up on the last descent before the long final uphill to the crest. However their chasing effort meant that Mario was able to rest behind them and take the hill with a spurt of energy, up the final 10% incline to take the first KOM points. Riders re-assembled at the top, as the race was long and solo efforts this early would surely be doomed. The descent was quick and again the packs separated into two, with Kinha, Miguel and Mario ahead, Angelo and Imran chasing and another cyclist holding the lantern rouge. Once at the bottom of the hill a moderate head-wind made some work for the front group. Angelo managed to bridge to this group at the Goba turn-off while Imran was struggling to chase on his own.
The turn-off to Goba saw the front group take turns pushing on the long and hilly section before reaching Goba. By now it was hot and cyclists started de-layering. At Goba Miguel powered up the first ramp (at 10%, a real leg burner) and slowly managed to string out his competitors. This was his attack. Mario managed to keep him in sight but by the end of the climb Miguel had managed to build up a 2 minute lead, and his fast descending abilities would mean he’d keep it to the bottom. Angelo and Kinha caught up with Mario, while he was delayering at the top, the heat really starting to impact the race. They set-off at a blistering pace down the hill, Angelo trying to power away, with Kinha and Mario tucked behind. At the bottom of the Goba hill a loud bang - Angelo’s rear tyre goes, on the fastest stretch. He struggles to pull over as Mario behind has to apply brakes to avoid his snaking bike. With everyone’s tools and inner tubes in the support vehicle, he had to wait for them to drive down the hill, 20 agonizing minutes later. Meanwhile Kinha and Mario press on in a partnership, trying to chase down Miguel, who is up ahead and extending his lead. Imran instead is struggling alone in the cross-winds, but keeps motoring along at a steady pace.
Miguel manages to finish 5:22, a good effort considering he was fighting on his own from Goba onwards, then Mario in second place at 5:34 with a final sprint on the final uphill and Kinha at 5:35. Imran rolled in 20 minutes later, tired, but happy to finish the grueling race. Plaques were presented to the winners and a big collective pat on the back for all who took part in Mozambique’s toughest cycle race. Although there was only one support vehicle the crew were excellent and kept riders watered and supported for the whole length of the ride. It really was unfortunate for Angelo that he had a puncture while the vehicle was stopped recording the climbers of Goba Hill. Perhaps the next big race will see some more support vehicles taking part.

Panorama Tour - Stage 3

Panorama - Stage 3
Last of the mountain stages.. However, one always tries to keep the best for last, and the organisers at the Panorama have certainly outdone themselves.. Two mountain climbs back to back.. Spitskop in reverse and then right after that the foot of Long-Tom pass. Then a hilly descent to Brondal, and three final up-hills.. Well, with my good climbing skills and Carlos on form we were hoping to do much better on this day after the disastrous day 2. Our legs had acclimatised to the mountains and were keeping the rhythm up the steel mountain sides. Still in group D at the start, we managed to get there early enough and move to the front of the line. Music. Cyclist one-foot shuffle up the driveway and left down into town. The race is on! The first few km’s out of town were fairly flat, but quickly turned into rolling hills. We managed to work our way into a nice large group with some MTN pro-riders, who at most were warming up their muscles. We were positively straining ours with the steeper and steeper hills, and finally the back-end of Spitskop, the terrifying decent of two days previous, proved a monster of an uphill. The weather threatened, but in the end just turned into a cold fog, as we climbed ever upwards. The water-points were at the top of each mountain, so our race strategy had to change and we kept together. The first climb was the shorter of the two, but Long-Tom proved fatal for us. In a weight shedding exercise the night before we had taken every bit of unnecessary kit off our bikes to make them lighter. We were on a one bottle strategy, with the cold weather meaning little fluid loss through perspiration. Inner tubes?! Two are enough.. Boy, was that just about the worst idea that came to our brains.. At the foot of Long-Tom Carlos has his first flat.. I caught him after the long Spitskop descent and just then he flats, but aces a sub-2 minute tube change, and we’re back on the climb, the few riders who’d managed to pass us are quickly caught on our onslaught up the mountain.. We are feeling good, we are feeling strong. Then, as we near the Nelspruit turn-off.. tyre 2 goes. This change takes a bit longer, as our spirits are sinking.. Again we are passed by the slow climbers.. We’re off and a water-point, a welcome banana and a cool drink behind us, we start descending the snaking mountain road, with the whole Valley below us spread out. The day is grey, but it’s still a beautiful sight, and I am conquering my descending demons finally. But the riders before us have gone and we are alone on the descent. Half way down Carlos stops for a pit-stop and I wave to him.. Catch me on the downhill, methinks. Well, 20 minutes and 50 cyclists later and I am still waiting for him at the bottom. As he turned to his bike after his stop, he saw his rear tyre flat on the ground.. No spare tube. No CO2 canister.. Just wait for the MTN mechanic to hopefully drive past, or some back-marker with a spare tube. All in all our total time-loss due to flats is 26minutes. Our third mountain of the day. No matter, once re-joined we push on with the rolling downhills and take turns pushing the wind. We are riding solo, with most cyclists in front of us or way behind us. We reach the final waterpoint of the day, at the Brondal turnoff and are greeted with Pizza and vodkas! We pass on the vodkas but the pizzas are great. Off we go though, every minute to gain by pushing on. We roll over the last two hills at a strong pace, although our motivation is low now.. We realise just how hopeless our cause is and push on through sheer inertia.. the legs just keep rotating, hardened by the mountain climbs earlier in the day. We trundle on through town, the finish line in sight, and out runs a rabid dog on the road, barking and trying to get under our wheels! One of the riders we’d caught veers off pushing the dog out of our way and we clear through and reach the final up-hill. A slow, painful climb to the top and we cross the line together, shattered by our experience, but glad we made it in the end.

Panorama Tour - Stage 2

Day 2 of the Panorama tour was, in the words of the organisers, the flattest Mpumalanga could offer. We were hoping that the shorter route would be kinder to our legs, tired out by the long climbs of the previous day. However things didn’t go well right from the beginning as we were now in starting group D, and arrived there just in time for the race, and were the last in our group. Basically, we were starting just in front of group E! The Music came on, and cyclists started shuffling forward trying to get out of the starting pen and onto the road, this time turning left and down into White River on a rather sharp descent (my favourite!) and through the side streets to emerge on the Sabie Road, then left after a few km’s towards Brondal. The road surface on the Brondal section was starting to break up and the early descents played havoc with my rear wheel (and confidence), already shaken by the long Spitskop downhill. I was still getting used to my new carbon bike, which alternated between incredible rigidity and uncontrollable wobbling on less than perfect asphalt.. I was confused. More than that, I was at the end of the pack, and climbing furiously to catch up with Carlos. On today’s race our incompatibilities, him with a sprinter’s cassette and me with my descending heeby jeebies, worked to our advantage as I raced up the hills, and he caught up with me on the descents. Again we made good time after our (my) initial bad start and started catching cyclists. The flatter sections meant that we had to find a good pace-group in order to maintain our speed.. hard to do when most of the good cyclists were up ahead. We did manage though to find a few that pulled us through the long and windy straights. We used this tactic and hopped onto groups up ahead, or got dropped and were caught by faster riders behind us, and managed to make up some time and keep a good pace. Eventually we found some young riders who were content at pushing at a lazy 30km’s.. It was either going with them or facing the oncoming wind alone, so we chose wisely.. We’d need our legs for the last third of the race, a constant climb past KMIA (Kruger Airport) and onto the Numbi Gate road leading to White river. We were now on the Kanyamanze road which runs parallel to the N4, and eventually a pair of young riders in our group shot to the front and upped the pace, right until the left turn and the start of the hills. I made my move and started pushing up the hill, with Carlos close behind. We were now going mostly uphill, with a few flat sections and descents which gave Carlos a chance to rejoin. Now it was a constant slog, with just a quick stop at the waterpoint and a interview with the camera-man, and we were off again. By now we had worked out the colour-codes on the rider’s numbers and knew which ones we had to beat. We managed to close in on veteran after veteran and slowly pull ahead. We were feeling good, but the long grinding hill and our sprints on the flats meant that our legs had little more to give, and eventually a road-train of cyclists caught us on one of the descents, and to our dismay they were mostly vets! We clambered aboard and spun our legs like crazy barely keeping up, as the descent gave way to a painful wall of tarmac. We’ve now only a few more km’s to go, and some sharp up and down sections, which split up the road train. We are about in the middle of the split and were straining and pushing on the pedals, getting ourselves up the last long uphill, then down another long descent and a left hook onto the Numbi Gate road. A gentle rise but we are inching along, trying to catch one last vet group, that have been following us for the last 10 km’s. They are the AutoTec team, and we realise that we’ve been closely pacing them over the last two days. However we don’t catch them. We are finished.. and there, just in front of us is the finish line. Flattest day of the race?! What a load of bull! Today was worse than day one. We'll find out if day three can better it though.. Stay tuned.

Panorama Tour - Stage 1

Panorama Tour – Stage 1
The Maputo Hill Climber team, myself and Carlos Sales, were getting ready to take place in our first Panorama Tour, a 4 day climbing fest in the Mpumalanga “Lowveld”.. Why they called it Lowveld I can only assume is a bit of Afrikaans humour, because the hills here were anything but low, rather steep and sharp, and the Mountains would give Tour de France rides a good ride for their money.
We arrived just in time to collect our race numbers and hear the race briefing for Stage 1. The weather outlook was not brilliant, with possible rain and cold winds predicted. We were eager to go, if a bit nervous. We had the obligatory cyclist pasta dinner and headed to bed early.
Next morning we were up at five, bikes on the rack, a quick breakfast and coffee, and off we drove the 20km’s or so up to White River. The roads were empty at that hour and we made good time but even so found Casterbridge packed with nervous cyclists in various stages of readiness. We were in group C, middle of the bunch, and we felt the pre-race tension as other cyclists cracked nervous jokes or checked their cables. Few had stress-free faces. Some hadn’t banished the sleepiness from their eyes. Others were hurriedly warming up. As for us, we were cold, and in awe of this event, and suddenly quite conscious of our amateur status in this race. Maputo Hill Climbers.. What hills are there in Maputo that can compete with what the Panorama was about to unleash onto us?!?
All of a sudden loud music and there was a surge as cyclists started to one foot pedal up the driveway and onto the main road towards Hazyview. I tried to move forward and lost Carlos in the frenzy as everyone jockeyed for a better position. Once on the road cyclists started streaming past as if crazed, trying to catch the front peloton, which was already pushing at a healthy pace up the first incline of the day, even though it was behind the pace car. Today would decide the King of the Mountain, and the pro’s at the front were eager to go.
Eventually we found each other near the back of the pack and started the long uphill drag. By now we were with the back-markers and so steadily moved forward in the ranks. Hill upon hill took us up past the KOM hotspot and then down towards the Kiepersol turnoff where a fairly flat section and a fast riding group helped us make steady progress. From there we re-joined the main Sabie – Hazyview road and again the rather aggressive hills showed themselves as worthy adversaries to our already tired and heavy legs. The first water-point loomed and I had to stop to replenish my bottles, as I had forgotten to bring my normal drink supplement, and the USN sponsored drinks were certain to be better than my water! They offered up a cool green drink which perked us up instantly, and with banana for food, we set off on the steep incline. Hill turned into descent into hill and descent and we still hadn’t reached the dreaded Spitskop climb. To lighten my load I emptied my spare water bottle, which helped out with the climbs, but then a few km’s further ahead disaster struck as Carlos’ water cage broke off during a descent. He’d finished his other bottle and I was almost through my last bottle! The next water point was half-way up Spitskop, and we were still doing the hills! Would we last till then?
We shared the little water we had and eventually started up the dreaded Spitskop. A 12.5km climb with an average gradient of 3.4%. Doesn’t sound too bad, but the “hills” leading up to Spitskop had higher gradients and had already sapped our legs. The temperature was getting cold but our bodies couldn’t feel it, due to the heat of exertion as we crawled up the long, steep climb. Ahead of us stretched clumps of riders, and we hopped onto each bunch as we came to them, moving back up through the standings. My 27 rear cassette meant that I was able to keep up a faster rhythm up the climb, although every time I thought I’d lost Carlos, he would re-appear on my wheel. We found our rhythm on the hill and finally made the water-point, and loaded up with a different coloured drink. USN was testing every product in their arsenal on our bodies.. Must say, we referred the cool green one from the first pit stop.
From the waterpoint onwards, our liquid stores replenished and the legs slightly rested, we powered up the remaining climb at a nice healthy pace and organized a fast pace-line over the crest of the mountain. There the temperature was 9 degrees, and as we started to descend my arms froze and I could hardly change gears or pull the brakes… My climbing ability was counterbalanced by a certain lack of descending skills and I watched in frustration as first Carlos, and then all the cyclists I’d passed on the uphill flew past me to the bottom of the hill. It would be a tough job making back that time lost.
I got to the bottom of the hill and regrouped with Carlos and we trudged up the remaining hills to the finish-line. By now we were quite tired but somehow managed to claw our way back and catch some of the cyclists who had past me on the descent. However many had managed to maintain their lead and push on ahead of us. We turned off the main road into the back-streets of White River and could smell the finish line. One final surprise though, that last hill up to Casterbridge farm. Our tired and battered legs could take only so much, and we inched our way up, trying in vain to catch one last group of riders before the finish. Finishing time 4 Hours 54 minutes. We were tired, we were shattered, but we’d made it through the first day. Only three to go!