ed’s letter
ARE YOU FEELING IT?
12 | MTB | proud as punch
A combination of high energy
and ADD has had me chasing
new places and faces all my
life. Bike rides became my
church. This was where I felt at
peace, where my thoughts were
always optimistic and my face
always smiling.
The concept of heaven and
earth just never resonated with
me. I understood the history
of war and politics, which in
many ways run parallel to the
feeling. We curb our reactions
and make choices we are taught
to believe are appropriate.
These are not new revelations
but, mostly, by the time we
grasp the need to be individuals
and choose our own paths, the
foundations are too deep to
unlearn, or the fear to change is
too great. How many of us live
our entire lives without feeling
deeply connected to our raw
spirit, something we all know we
survival of the fittest requires
venturing into the unknown, as
each rider pushes their boundaries
teachings of evil, but the natural
perfection of a flower, a shell,
waves, clouds and flames are far
more compelling to me.
Regardless of spiritual
affiliations or beliefs, I’ve grow
to believe that true happiness
lies in these moments of magic
where our senses are elevated
to an extraordinary level. In
a world where we are taught
how we should feel, react
and behave from the moment
we’re born, we begin to lose
our primal instincts, we numb
our yearnings, we literally stop
felt very early in our lives, but
lost touch with over time?
In December I dislocated my
shoulder riding in Jonkershoek.
The past two months off the
bike have had me yearning to
feel the burn of fresh mountain
air gulped on a painful climb,
knowing a sweet descent always
follows. While icing my shoulder
in a sub-10° Atlantic rock pool
one sunrise, after yet another
slow beach walk, I noticed
a man with long grey hair,
thrusting the water with playful
vigour. He was at least 60, but
still powerfully sculptured and
clearly in his element. He was
literally a real-life King Triton.
I bumped into him in a coffee
shop a few weeks later and
he shared his story – a high-
powered corporate who decided
‘to return to the wild’ at 50. He
rehabilitates wolves and recently
paddled a simple dugout across
the Southern Ocean. He said
he felt alive for the first time
since childhood.
A few weeks ago I paddled
5km out to sea and spent an
hour among a pod of feeding
humpback whales. It’s an
understatement to say it was
mesmerising. I was moved to
tears as they smashed their
enormous flukes on the surface
and rose up below my tiny,
vulnerable boat. The silence
between surfacing was gate-
crashed by the deafening rush
of thunderous, fish-scented
exhale spray, exploding into
the sky above, while shrieking
terns dived down like raining
white arrows, fighting for
fish shrapnel. It was beyond
description. No other person, no
camera, just them and I, beyond
the shore horizon. As dusk
turned to dark, I respectfully
left the pod in their deep ocean
kingdom and paddled towards
the distant lights of land. I was
filled with a satisfied sense that
I now knew what King Triton and
my high-school minister had
possibly alluded to. I felt alive,
I found my holy grail. This is why
we ride.
We look forward to your pics,
stories and comments.
[email protected]
@paulingpen
Mountain Bike SA
@mountainbikesa
AS KEVIN SAYS on p108, bike
riding is quality time out with
friends. Or, as Mike poetically
describes on p48, it’s the
ecstatic agony of silent solo
ultra-distance riding. Either
extreme or in between, we all
know MTBing is an adventure,
and we’re spoilt with manicured
trails to play on here in SA.
Unlike other bike rides or races
designed primarily for adventure
or pleasure, the Absa Cape Epic
is a race that pits man against
his natural surroundings, plus
his enemies and, ultimately,
himself. Much like our primal
existence thousands of years
ago, survival of the fittest
requires venturing into the
unknown, as each rider pushes
their personal boundaries in
their quest to beat one more
rider or complete one more
stage. Those who haven’t done
it, think it’s madness; those who
have, will save every cent and bit
of leave to go back for more.
Something about facing what
is simultaneously threatening
and beautiful provides a nervous
excitement that stimulates our
deepest, most dormant cells.
Having witnessed every race
since its inception 17 years ago,
I’ve come to realise that this
is how brave and successful
humans feel truly alive. Indulge
me for a moment to delve into
this epiphany.
After my early years thriving
in the bushveld, riding horses,
BMXs and motorbikes, I left
for boarding school at 11. With
24/7 study-sport-sleep-repeat
on weekdays and matches on
Saturdays, our compulsory
Sunday church service
attendance cut the only free day
of our institutionalised lives in
half. Every hour was controlled,
not unlike prison. We effectively
only had six hours out of 168 to
roam free.
I was born a free ranger, never
comfortable indoors for long.