Osama B’s – Race Report 2009 (Day 1) by Bruce Turvey

Willy and the Pipe arrived in Johannesburg and it wasn’t long before we had clocked in at Dunkeld Cycles for a spending competition. What was intended to be a 40 minute visit comically turned into a 3 hour drama. Most time consumption was due to the guys at Dunkeld’s inability to fit a tyre on The Pipe’s KTM hardtail (aptly named “The garden gate due to its lack of features). Aiden, aka Narcotix, felt we couldn’t pop this tyre on without a compressor, at which point we went to the nearest BP. One tub of Stans and an hour later, we still had a rim with no tyre. More importantly, we had covered the entire garage floor in Stans and this was the venue of Narcotix’s first one liner; “It looks like a dairy cow exploded in this place.” As far as I was concerned, the poor rim job and white tyre goop was more reminiscent of something else entirely, but I’m sure any mention of “Goodwill Humping” will get edited out by Lesley, so I won’t.

Day 1: Brutal

Dawn of day one started like any other Swazi stage….a brisk start shortly followed by me getting lost within the first ten minutes. There was a strange comfort knowing that very little had changed. We fiddled around on some small hills as the pack spread and concertinaed again, depending on how badly the lead guys were following the route cards. Things seemed more chilled this year without Nic “I’ve trashed every bit of my bike in the first ten minutes” Floros. It also left us quite exposed as a pair. Believe it or not, our tactic this year was to lurk at the front with the leaders and sneak the win at the end of each day. Many asked us “what happens if you have a technical,” to which we replied….”I don’t know.” I may have said something to the effect of “Whats a technical?” It made for interesting riding there is no doubt.

It turns out my new bike, pimped out by the dealers at Dunkeld Cycles, was just the thing for the Baboon’s Back. Something that ate me alive on the hardtail last year, felt like a warm up on the spinning bike with my new dual suspension cab (bit gay I know). Speaking of gay, I did have to wait about 10 minutes at the top for my “hard core cos I ride a garden gate with 1876 technology” partner. Once there, we spanked the downhill, (thankfully without incident and without the red trailer) and the dice was on. It wasn’t long before the usual suspects were out in front. The Jockey and his greased lightning goose (both on soft tails this year) were beyond neat and tidy through the single and tricky stuff. Hanging on for the ride was The Osamas, the Toyota Twins (again resplendent in their matching outfits) and some cuzzins from the coast….Craig and John from …get this – Team 5339.co.uk. Love the way that team name just rolls off the tongue. More on these two a bit later (ha ha, I just said “more on” he he)

Turns out I managed to mangle the little gear thing at the back of my bike. Great news was I now had one gear to choose from out the back cluster. The Pipe started getting grumpy with me cos I wasn’t keeping up at all. He kept saying “clean that back thing” so after using everything from a used energy bar packet, leatherman and indigenous foliage – the gears were still smoked and I was doing some quality pushing. At the half way eating hut, I said to the Pipe “Put the potatoes down and fix my bike, doos.” He’s the more technically minded of the two. He then looks at me like my brain was missing. “Your whole back sprocket is shredded…doos.” So it was official, I had 3 gears left to get home.

From there, the mini pair in matching pj’s had the jump on us. There was not much we could do cept settle in to a bit of a rhythm up the brutal. It was going well, I had a gear I could use, and the Pipe was starting to fire. We were back in the mix and the jockeys were in sight. I think we even screamed at them something to the effect of “We’re coming for you, you are about to enter a world of pain.” Words I’m sure absolutely no one believed for a second, least of all me.

I couldn’t understand why I was going so slowly and with so much hand pain down “Heenan’s Steps” until I got to the bottom – and discovered I had locked out all the suspension. Technology – who needs it!!! On the way down we passed the mini mountain goats cos they had punctured. We now had the lead and put in some solid rowers walk up those steepish Brutals. Having picked up a useful jump, we were lost. Obviously there was no route card, so we chilled and waited for the Toyota Two, who grudgingly told us it was “left.” Back into the Rowers walk, I saw some flickering flags and we flew direct for the top of Brutal. Again, not much of a hill, as I keep telling Fossil. Even worse there is only one Brutal this year, and last year we were promised 3 Brutal. Things are deteriorating in the Swazi hills – its gotta be said. Long story short, once we had some bearings and some memory from the year before, we were unstoppable and got in with a useful lead. Day one sorted.

Night One – sheer luxury of the en suite mansion up the hill. A sweet change from the dormitory the year before. Went to sleep thinking “I hope this doesn’t make me soft.” But with my lengthy goose next to me, soft wasn’t part of the equation.