Epic Stories
Saved Thursday 1st January, 1970 9:59am by Dean Fogarty
Edited Saturday 13th September, 2008 5:39am by Peter Creagh
Tales from an Epic Junkie
I’m one of the old boys. I’ve completed the 6 Epics in the 50 to 59 age group. Next year I’m to be put out to graze with the few lonely souls in the 60 plus age group, those old crusties who haven’t yet left to join a bowls club.
I’m lucky I guess – I don’t seem to have much of a problem with endurance – speed is the missing link. I put endurance down to the fact that in my forties I got endorphins from running a few marathons and other events until I realised it actually hurt too much. I’m still reaping the benefits of that earlier cardiovascular work. Riding a properly set up bike doesn’t hurt.
Six Epics? They are meant to be Epics.
The first in 2003 was, well, interesting. I didn’t see the mud as a problem. Everything in the event was new and unexpected. In Ma Ma Creek I had two flats and broke the hydraulic hose to the rear brake. Only a few weeks earlier a young mate who knows how to handle a bike had encouraged me to ride the single track at Gap Creek without the rear brake to better trust front wheel braking. A lesson usefully learned and then used in the Epic for 80k. Was this a race? Johnno and I stopped and boiled the billy twice. Happily full of tea we rode out along some pretty lonely roads.
2004. OK so it is a race. Drop that crap brand of light weight tyres we were using and go for something more robust. With group buying power, we bought out the whole supply of Maxxis Larsens that were on Extra Cheap Special Special price in NZ. Run them at 40 PSI and not one flat since. A new problem though - several k along the grind from the second check point towards Laidley Gap – 2 spokes in the rear wheel let go. The wheel is stuffed the way it is. I turn back a weeping man and ride/flap my way back to the mechanic’s tent at Mt Sylvia. If one more smiling idiot says “Hey mate, you’re going the wrong way!” I will kamikaze them. Wheel fixed, the mechanic gives me a push start and yells “Go get them young fella.”
2005. Ah this is what it is meant to be like. No mechanicals. No biologicals. Save energy and catch people in the push up through Peppers at the end, an area we have affectionately called the death zone.
2006. I can’t get a faster time, they made the distance longer. But wonderful – single track to finish.
2007. Mud, this sucks. I’m deflated. I look enviously at hardtails running narrow tyres and good frame clearance. Take it easy and finish. What’s this? Fantastic. The single track has been extended further, or is my memory getting bad?
2008. Steve ‘the Epic Man’ Turner, wants to do the Mega Epic. The last epic I had with Steve was on a climbing trip in the Himalayas years ago. Where Steve is, an epic always follows. I make a late entry change and we agree to ride together. Steve, you haven’t let me down – this is an Epic – it’s 20 minutes to the start time and we are in a car somewhere near Thornton asking for directions to Peppers Hidden Vale. The fun continues – now my chain’s stuffed, how can it have snapped? Its almost new and my quads are non-existent . My eyesight and mechanical skills are as bad as my quads. A patient and helpful Skroo Turner arrives and helps fix the chain. Thanks Skroo. I’m mobile again but every little creak from the drive train gives me post traumatic chain disorder. Hang about, not another epic? Steve, you are cursed. A helpful marshal on a trail bike at the high point of the new track section near Mt Sylvia says follow me boys and leads Steve and I up a further climb to the top of the ridge and happily waves us on. We follow cow pads along the ridge line until we run out of cows, pads and ideas. We stop against a fence and survey our lonely domain. We gaze down on the valley road from Mt Sylvia to Laidley Gap. We can recognize where we have already been! If we drop straight down this ridge to the left we will have completed our own private circuit. But wait the cavalry is here: our field marshal has come looking for us full of apologies.
No sweat an Epic is an Epic.
On Sunday morning this is odd, it’s the best I’ve felt at the start line – why? We are half way through our event. You suckers have your whole race to do.
Chris McKelvey
Allan Churchward was the last rider home in 2006 and this is his Epic tale...
I have been in all four Epics and I would rate this one the toughest of them all.
I will admit I am not a great mountain biker - I do it for the challenge and the thrill.
2003 was a shocker - the rain and mud beat me and I only made it to the second checkpoint before I decided I wasn't going to finish in daylight - so I pulled out.
2004 was much better - I did finish in 9.5 hours (in daylight) and conquered that last long cursing hill - but what a fast run home.
2005 was even better - my riding had improved (slightly) and so had my fittness having just run in the Noosa half marathon two weeks before. My time improved doing it in 8.5 hours (in daylight). Again there were some agonising hills in the last section but the downhills were great and these made up for all the uphill agony.
2006 started well but we were an hour later at starting compared to previous years. The first run to checkpoint one went well, then came Razorback which didn't seem as daunting as previous years - I enjoyed the run downhill on the other side. I stopped for lunch at checkpoint 2 and headed for Laidley Gap - I can't believe guys ride all the way to the top.
At checkpoint 3 still felt ok - only a few cramps had hit me. Off I went on the last section feeling I was on the home stretch. Got some encouragement from a marshal when he said 16 kms to go. Got to the Peppers Hidden Vale gate at about about 4.30 - plenty of time to go the last 12 kms. The hill slowed me a bit then I hit the technical sections - that really knocked me. It was starting to get dark and I had no idea how far to the finish. I just keep going - there weren't to many fast sections and it was difficult to see the track. I was concerned more for my wife at the finish line - she would be worried. As the sun had now well and truly set the moon was starting to give some light - at least it wasn't going to get pitch black.
Then there it was - I could see the lights of the retreat - what a welcome sight. The course then crossed a dirt road I knew would lead me to the retreat - so I rode along it and came in the back way past the campers - I was home - you guys were a sight for tired legs.
The search party had been organised and were out looking for me - they got called back. My wife was relieved (and so were we - Ed).
Will I do it again - I would like to make six Epics!
My 106km Unicycle Ride by Kiwi Dr Ken Looi
"Kapow!" It sounded like a bomb exploding, which funnily enough coincided with a rather horrified Unicyclist, pacing up and down Toowoomba, looking for a spare tyre for his 36" unicycle.
The Flight Centre Cycle Epic is something I have wanted to do since hearing about it at its’ sister event, The Karapoti Classic. It sounded like the perfect unicycle ride, complete with its’ very own unicycle category. So there I was, with a snapped tyre bead, duct taped and superglued to the rim, hoping I would not be the first unicyclist to enter and not-finish The Epic! The tyre survived, as did my frame after snapping the wheel bolt 200m from the start.
After fixing my bolt with help from a couple of the Classic riders, I finally set off on the Epic. It took a while before I caught back up to the Challenge riders at Ma Ma Creek.
"Are you nuts?" was the usual comment.
Others were more tactful: "Are your nuts sore?"
Ikept up with the Epic riders on this sweet Ma Ma Creek of a singletrack, which just kept going and going. There is nothing better than tackling good singletrack on a single wheel! A quick rest stop at the end of Stage1 was followed by the long grind up Razorback, at which point I ran out of water. Unfortunately, there is nowhere to attach a drink bottle to a unicycle*. Best carry water in a Camelbak, except of course, if you need to carry a particularly large amount. I started cramping but somehow made it to checkpoint 2, and guzzled about 2L of water to the bemusement of the marshal: "That can't be good for ya!" Fed and watered, I set off again feeling much better.
Throughout the ride, there were plenty more questions and comments that tended to follow this line:
"Go Unicycle Guy!"
"How do you steer that thing?"
"Doesn't it hurt?"
The answer to each of these was of course "Ugh...ugh...and ugh ugh!"; which is unicycle speak for "thank you", "it's all in the hips", and "Ugh!"
Stage 3 went by fairly quickly due to mild delirium as I plodded along the dirt road, although I do remember that there was a scary downhill in there somewhere. It's definitely more exciting when you don't have brakes! Stage 4 was interesting in the fact that my legs joined the union for a pay rise and better working conditions. Which left me in the unfortunate position of negotiating at the side of the road, next to an angry army of ants. Thanks to the other riders and the ants for encouraging me to keep going.
The Epic was tougher than I expected. In fact, even with half the number of wheels to worry about, it took just as much effort to bonk, cramp, and grovel to the finish. But isn't that why we do these things? I’d like to thank the organisers, volunteers, sponsors and the Epic riders for making this such an awesome event.
*there have been all manner of panniers and spiky things emanating from unicycles in the past, but they all ended in tears.
Kevin's Story
Having read all about the 2004 Cycle Epic in the Gatton Star Newspaper, I thought how good it would be, to actually go in the 2005 half Epic. So encouraged by my wife, I began training to see if I was physically fit enough at 70 years old, to actually enter. I used to ride a rigid bike, but when I developed prostate troubles, decided that either mountain bike riding had to go OR I had to get a better bike. A couple of operations and a Giant VT3 ( with front and rear suspension ) later, I haven’t looked back.
Mountain bike riding has become a regular part of my life now, with soft suspension and a grooved seat, I have had no more prostate problems. Training regularly, gradually building up my condition and timing, I thought may be I could consider entering this mighty Epic.
Why not give it a go?, I could always pull out at Thornton if I found the going too tough. So I entered my first bike race at the age of 70 years young.
Great excitement mounted as the day approached, my 2 Stepsons from Sydney, had decided to come and join me on my big day and to look after the poor old fellow if he needed it. Thankfully I didn't need any looking after and I did't pull out at Thornton either, I just took it gently, didn’t push myself too much and enjoyed it all.
At the beginning of the race, I was afraid that I may disgrace myself, that was until I overtook my first rider and my confidence began to grow. Climbing Laidley Gap was what I enjoy doing, if there is a mountain anywhere I have to climb it. After a brief rest at the top, the run down the other side was exhilarating and before I knew it I was in Thornton with my support crew waiting for me.
"Do you want to pull out"? my wife asked, "Pull out ? no way Jose". A sandwich, another drink and a short rest, saw me on my way. A nice stretch of bitumen to get me started before a couple more mountains to climb, or should I say walk. Although getting tired and sore I was beginning to get used to the grind. Time passed quickly and then came the welcoming sign, only 10 kms to go. It was then I realised that I was actually going to finish this race, and wouldn't disgrace myself after all.
A few ups and downs, a few cow tracks, and then I was riding proudly over the finish line at Peppers Hidden Vale. My excited wife, was there to greet me and take my photo, she was so proud of my achievement. The crowds, the noise, along with the assortment of different makes and types of bikes, was too overpowering, I enjoyed a well earned Pure Blonde, and flaked out on the grass.
Would I consider entering next year ? Just try keeping me away.
Postscript. 71 year old Kevin retired from competitive mountain biking in 2007. He remains the oldest rider to compete in Flight Centre Cycle Epic.
The Wooden Spoon
"Is that the chase vehicle?"gasped Debbie.
"I think so!"I replied wearily.
We were on the last leg of the epic and the final few rocky hills were giving us a bit of grief as we struggled upwards. The chase vehicle was the only thing behind us and we both thought we must be the last few riders on the course. So what at least we would finish and hoped to find our friends who would be still waiting for us. I was sure they had finished hours ago.
Debbie and I were new formed friends having met at checkpoint 2. We shared some Powerbars and a bit of a chin wag as we recovered from the Razorback section. I guess our stories were similar to many MTB riders others before us.
The thrill of the race, the toughness of the Ma Ma Creek and the seemingly endless climb of the Razorback. We both had our own goals and set about riding from Mt Sylvia Christian Camp to the next checkpoint.
It can be a lonely ride when you are last to set off. For kilometres I felt that the rest of the world had left me as I travelled the long trail. Only sure I was on the right path by following the left over rubbish of previous riders. I could have collected at least five water bottles, but was a dismayed by the other rubbish left behind. Bits of gels and wrapper bars papers every where, a bit like Hansel and Gretel following crumbs.
Debbie and I met up again at the last checkpoint and decided to push on and not spent too much time waiting there. Who were we waiting for, no one we surmised as the check point crew were packing up. The last leg was going to be tough but we both very eager to finish.
We both suffered from leg cramps and fell at different sections on the last few kms in. It got to the stage that we walked cramped and fell the last winding hills as the cramps were starting to affect us badly.
"Do you think they will all be drunk by the time we get in?"
"I guess so", thinking the lucky buggers, maybe they won't notice us as we struggle in.
As we both rode together through the last 100 metres before the finish line the biggest cheer erupted. Hundreds of cheering Epic riders we whistling and chapping us in. The organisers were also cheering us on. What a buzz. What excitement!
We held our hands up high as we passed the finish line and the crowd were still clapping. I never felt so good or appreciated for coming last in anything.
But wait did the announcer say we had to come up and collect the wooden spoon!!! What a shame job but at least some sort of prize.
Imagine our surprise when we both received a bottle of local wine and a new Netti bike helmet. Plus later that week I received a pair of Pearl Izumi slides /sandals, which was a lucky draw prize also in the bike helmet box.
Was the wine, the helmet worth it? The 100 odd kms ride was now finished. I was tired but elated. At that stage I decided I would certainly do it again next year. Not for the prizes however. But for the amazing support and the sound of the crowd as they cheered you in, the hearty shake of the hands and the "Well Done, Good Ride" from other riders , the smiles and "Good on ya mate" are all the encouragement I needed to start planning my next Epic.
