After a little while, Ross said that he was going to put on speed and I needed to prepare myself for the coming jerk on the tow rope which was held in the first 3 fingers of my right hand. The promised increase didn't seem to materialise and I was overwhelmed with the need for a sip of water. So, I took my left hand off the handle bars and wrestled the bottle out of the holder on my crossbar. I had just lifted the bottle to my parched lips,
....YANK....
Ross put on the burst of, by now, unexpected speed.
"AAARGH!!! ROSS!!" I screamed as I was pinged across the road like a slingshot. The water bottle flew out of my hand. The webbing handle of the tow rope was painfully ripped from my grasp. Completely out of control, I hurtled towards a hedge on the opposite side of the road. The verge and hedge came up rapidly to meet me as I flew off my saddle and landed face first. My right hand was cut and grazed and the third finger on my right hand started to swell and throb (It still hurts two weeks later!) I was bruised and battered but the thing that was most painful was my top lip.
"Ross, what is wrong with my lip?" I lisped at him, licking it tentatively.
"I can't see anything"
"Are you sure, it's really sore. Is it bleeding? It feels like it's grazed."
"There is nothing wrong with it... No wait, you have nettle rash."
Just my luck, I managed to land face-first in a nettle patch.
Feeling slightly shaky, I climbed back on my bike and politely refused the offer of a tow whilst I tried to regain my sense of equilibrium and dignity. Andy was incredulous when I told him I had been trying to have a drink while being towed. He reckons towing is one of the most terrifying things you can do and requires total concentration. I am borderline A.D.D so total concentration is not in my make up. I had managed to drink before, I have no idea why it went wrong this time.
After a little while I accepted the tow again but told Ross I wouldn't be on tow after dark, I was quite shaken up by the experience.
The surfaces we had ridden on varied from single track, to gravel paths and tar strip roads. We pootled along for many miles until we came to a detour due to a road closure as a result of a bridge being down. We then came to yet another road detour due to another bridge closure. It was going to be a 14km detour. We didn't fancy that. As we were contemplating our options, a lady drove passed us in her car and asked where we were going. When we told her, she said that she had seen some people crossing the bridge on the scaffolding.
Now, we are all law-abiding people but the thought of doing extra mileage must have flipped a switch in all of us because before you could say "Adventure Race" the four of us were pedaling down the closed road to investigate the non-bridge.
The road had big 6 foot, free-standing, metal fence barriers all the way across it. This did not deter us and we managed to get all four bikes around that barrier in no time flat. We wheeled our bikes down towards the non-bridge quick as you like (me feeling terrified that the police would turn up and tell us off at any moment.)
She wasn't kidding when she said the bridge was down. The bridge was non-existent. The road ended in a precipice and a scaffold was erected across the whole river. We had to lower our bikes down on to the scaffold and then wheel them across a narrow walkway and pass them up to each other on the other side. The scaffolding was pretty high up above the river below. We popped out on the other side of the river worked around some more barriers to be greeted by two friendly chaps sitting in a car.
"Hello lads," they greeted us (I think by this time I must have qualified as a lad!)
"Err hello," we said a little sheepishly.
"Anymore coming across?" they asked conversationally.
"Um, not sure really. There could be. This is a race, you see." Bearing in mind at the time we thought we were stone last, we were hedging our bets on whether anyone was behind us.
They then revealed that they had seen some other racers doing the same thing, bid us good night and drove off just as another local resident popped out of his house to find out what we were doing in the middle of nowhere in the gloom of evening on our bikes.... we went through our explanation again and they wished us, "Good luck lads," (Could they not see my long plaited hair??!!) and we went on our way.
After that the road and the night became a blur of pumping pedals and the circle of light from my head torch as we rode mile after mile to get to the mandatory checkpoints we needed. I remember getting to a checkpoint on a gate somewhere on a gravel road. It was dark and the air around us was full of rain. I dibbed into the CP marker and heard Ross utter the words I was desperate for, "Right Will and Emma you can lie down for 5 minutes."
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| Andy consults map while Will and I close our eyes briefly |
I have no idea what the time was. Although we were racing the clock, time had lost all meaning. We were in this weird bubble. There was nowhere else we could be, we couldn't concern ourselves with the stuff that normally fills our lives and were intensely involved in what we were doing. Our phones were sealed so there were no distraction and our everyday lives seemed a thousand miles away.
The road started to get steeper and steeper. For a while I managed and then I started to fall behind, Ross put a hand on my back and gave me a shove. I pedalled on, struggling with every turn of the crank. It soon became obvious to everyone that we would have to get off and walk. We walked for hours.
The rain fell for hour after hour as we trekked up into the hills, sometimes pushing, sometimes riding. I can't honestly remember much of this part of the race because I was almost incoherent with tiredness. Coping with sleep deprivation has always been something I struggled with, even as a young mum.... it has been known to bring on migraines in the past. It was the one thing, aside from the modesty dilemmas that had most concerned me in the run up to the race.
I announced to my bemused teammates that I was feeling 'tearful and shouty.' Andy did ask afterwards, "What was different from normal?" (Cheeky toe-rag!!) The phrase tearful and shouty caused great hilarity every time it was mentioned after the race. But, at the time I was completely, intensely serious and I was trying to warn them that I was literally at the end of my tether.
I cannot remember how long we pushed our bikes up those hills with the rain lashing us and just our head torches and the wind for company. We fell silent as we slogged it out, our banter of earlier fading as we all dealt with the need to overcome our natural instinct to sleep. On and on we went. Our progress was being hampered by my inability to ride because I was so spent. Ross had long ago taken my bike and was pushing it along with his own. I was stumbling along in a state of total exhaustion. I was in an agony of misery. My head was flopping on my shoulders, my arms uselessly swinging in front of me and my mouth was hanging open...I looked, as Ross's Scottish family would put it, glaikit .
"I need to stop. I need to stop." I moaned. I didn't want to quit the race. Even at the extremes of exhaustion, the thought never crossed my mind. All I wanted to do was stop and lie down for a few minutes to recharge my batteries. I told Ross so, "Well you can't. You will get through it." he handed me an energy gel. "Are you drinking?" he asked.
Drinking? drinking? Is that all he could think about....I was beyond tired. I could have quite cheerfully inflicted a serious injury to him if I had the energy. Bless him, all the while he continued to push our bikes up the unrelenting hills. I can't remember any down hills for hours. Although, I am sure my perceptions are warped by how I was feeling.
Will came alongside me. He put his arm around me and started to gently push me up the hills, "I need to stop." I said. The tears were trickling down my face and I was snivelling as I rested my head in the crook of his shoulder. Parent - child role reversal.
Ross promised we might be able to have a rest at the next check point but in the end, I think he must have taken a closer look at me and then I heard a muttered conversation with Andy about getting me out of the rain and the cold for a bit. I stood like an anaesthetised cow, dull and stupid, unable to contribute while the 3 of them sorted out bikes, food, got my little back rest/carry mat thing out of my bag and put the emergency shelter 'up'.
Ah yes, the emergency shelter or more aptly named bivvy bag...This is the recipe for the emergency shelter:
Imagine something bright orange and slightly larger than the plastic bag you get at a supermarket checkout. Take four adults who are wearing soggy trainers and damp clothes and who have been, by turns, wet and sweaty for 24 hours. Insert into aforementioned bright orange bag. Add to this the high energy food that is having unfortunately consequences on their lower digestion and get them to all sit very close to each other underneath this teeny tiny bag. Now mix in with this, the complication that when you have been active for that length of time and you try to fold yourself into a small ball that cramps and discomfort will ensue. Add to this heady mix their attempts to stay warm (drafts kept creeping underneath), eat something and do this in the confines of something only slightly larger than a shoe box. Can you just imagine?
Will decided to try to lie down. the whole bag went with him and we all disabused him of that notion rapidly. I found that I had my nose pressed in Ross's armpit. This was unfortunate, because by Ross's own admission, he smelt like a polecat. My trainers stank like dog wee (I am going to have words with the dogs!) And, although I have known Andy for quite a while, I have never until this race felt the need to expel gas before him. The atmosphere in the tent was so thick that you could have chewed it, if you were brave enough. The four of us tried not to breathe....for 20 minutes. And sleep? Forget about it!
The idea was that we were meant to stay in the shelter for the full 20 minutes but I think Andy lasted about 15. He had been making short gasping grunts and groans for a full 5 minutes before he decided to bail, "I have got to get out, I am cramping and so uncomfortable," he said as he scrabbled to find a way out under the edge of the bag which I had firmly tucked under my bum. The unspoken plea was "let me out! oh save me!let me out!" Poor man, we let him go.
I was beginning to think that despite how tired I was anything was preferable to having my nose that close to Ross' s stinking shirt for a moment longer. (Maybe this was actually his strategy?) When he called time to go I too scrambled free from the shelter with alacrity.
The slog continued. We finally made it to the next check point and dibbed in. At this checkpoint there was meant to be a task but, due to weather conditions (mist and rain), the task had been closed. It was shooting at beer bottles with a gun. Hmmm good job they didn't give me the gun at that point due to the mental state from lack of sleep. Even though I was back on my feet I was still feeling tearful and shouty and less than charitable towards my teammates.
Will, by this point, had asked Andy to take on the navigation as Will felt he needed a break. Andy discovered that from the top of this mountain/ big hill there didn't seem to be many options on how to get down except over a really stony, steep, bumpy downhill. Now I like a technically challenging downhill under normal circumstances but in the dark, after a day with no sleep, it was more than a little hair-raising! I was extremely grateful when we made it to a tar road. It seems Ross had been right about getting through the terrible bit, because by this time, although I was still tired, I wasn't feeling out of it or in a state of mental derangement anymore. I was glad to be riding by bike.
And ride we did, for mile after mile after mile.
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| Where is the CP...shortly after this we got our cup of tea. Andy, me, Will |
"What are you doing?" he asked. Wouldn't you when 4 sweaty smelly people start poking around in your village at 2:45 in the morning? We explained what we were up to and he surprised us with such a fantastic gesture.
"Will you have a cup of tea?" We fell on his generosity like a starving man on a hog roast. He led us into his (now shut for the night) pub without a thought for the mess we would trail in. His wife brought out tea and biscuits and even offered us a flask to take with us. The kindness, friendliness and generosity of the Irish people throughout our race was really special. Downing the tea, we declined the offer of the flask, thanked our hosts and got on our way.
We never did find that check point though!
I was still quite tired but it wasn't in the bone-weary sense of the word anymore. It was more of the sleepy kind. I kept wanting to nod off on the bike. So, in an act of supreme self-sacrifice on my part, to assist my team, I decided to take a caffeine tablet. (I am extremely sensitive to caffeine and as advised by the doctors I am completely caffeine free in order to avoid the unpleasant consequences of contact with it- migraines, palpitations and asthma attacks) After a bit of discussion with Ross about whether I should, I popped the tablet. Thank goodness it was short lasting! I felt like my eyelids had ceased to work - they were fixed open but I still felt sleepy. Peculiar! But, at least I could ride my bike....or not because my heart rate shot up. Oops! That was a failed experiment.
As soon as it wore off we were all back on bikes and pedalling away. Then the sleep monsters attacked.
"What," you may well ask, "are sleep monsters?"
We had been awake for more than a day, even though we had the hour and a half rest before the race started, we really hadn't had any sleep to speak of since 6.30 am on Friday morning before the race. It was now the early hours of Sunday morning and by this point we had been racing for well over 24 hours. Sleep deprivation does funny things to people. I started first. The tar on the road was variegated with light and dark patches. All of a sudden and with no warning the light patches seemed to morph before my eyes into boulders and what looked like bridges. They literally leapt out of the tar and I had to ride around them. It was bizarre. Then William stopped for a wee on the side of the road and I did a double take as standing where William had once been was Father Christmas...waving his arms around! I blinked. I looked again and William had returned. It sounds quite psychedelic I know! But, it is all true and all down to sleep deprivation.
I then informed Ross and Andy that there was a little girl on the road. I could see her clearly. They both believed me (!) and started looking for her. "No there isn't." they said. I already knew that because she had changed into a seal and disappeared into the hedge.
I found it affected my speech and that I couldn't think of the right words. I, in all seriousness announced to Will and Andy that I had sparkles in my shoes that were hurting my feet. Yep! Prickles, not sparkles.
I wasn't alone in my mad meanderings. At one point when Ross was pushing my bike (the reason for this is unclear) Andy told me he thought he could see a gypsy caravan just ahead...it was Ross pushing two bikes. Andy was also 'seeing' little creatures scurrying around. Meanwhile William was seeing bigger ones that might attack him and which he thought he would have to slay with his sword (water bottle attached to his bike) Ross said he was finding his head torch light mesmerising and he would just stare at it....It all may sound unbelievable but it is all true, we really did experience this weird things. The mind plays surreal tricks on itself when you are that tired.
The tiredness by this point was our biggest problem. We were physically fine. I had come through my wobble but was very sleepy. I can remember standing next to my bike on the verge because the guys were consulting the map. Next thing I knew I was collapsed, fast asleep, in a heap on the ground, the bike had fallen on me and I heard Will saying, "Mum's down!" I pushed the bike off me, stood up and got back on it to continue riding.
We were going along ok but we all kept falling asleep on our bikes. This is a seriously risky thing to do. I nodded off fairly regularly and instructions from Ross, "CONCENTRATE!" weren't helping. The more I concentrated the more I dozed off. I kept jerking awake as I veered to the side. The worse moment came when I woke up to find myself careening out of control, sideswiping a hedge. Ross saw this and said it gave him a serious fright. He is not the only one! After this fright, the adrenalin from the shock shorted my doziness out and I was more able to function.
I wasn't the only one who had a near miss. Shortly after little episode, I was cycling along next to Andy and he suddenly swerved into the driveway of a house we were passing. "Where you going?" I asked and he came to. He did the same thing with a hedge and actually crashed. Talk about things that go bump in the night!
It was just after this that Ross called a halt and said, "Time for a 5 minute nap."
Such sweet words. We found a house with a nice dry(-ish) bit of pavement and a wall to lean against and gratefully dumped our bikes and packs as we sank to the ground to have that snooze. Just as we were getting comfy....
"Aroo, aroo, woof, aroo, woof, woof, woof."
We all groaned. We tried to keep completely quiet but to no avail and in the end had to get back on the bikes Dog 1- Beacon AR 0. We cycled for another couple of kilometres before we found another suitable wall and pavement, without a dog.
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| Fast asleep for all of 8 minutes |
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| Will and Andy snoozing |
And it was time to go. I leapt up (for someone who is normally very slow at getting going after sleep I was managing to get moving quite quickly) We were back on our bikes and as dawn broke we were making our way down to the transition point for the second kayak section of the race.
By the time we got to the transition zone we had covered 137.47km, 105.7 of those on our bicycles and the race was about 27 hours old. As the grey strands of dawn spread we were able to leave the monsters of the night behind and head towards our second day on the Beast of Ballyhoura. Bring it on!
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