FRTHR 2020
As I am sliding down the slope on my butt, I am holding on to my precious bike with my right hand, my left hand desperately seeking for something to hold on to. The bike, although packed with the lightest camping gear you can find, is still too heavy to hold. After a while, I see no other option but to push the bike forwards in front of me, hoping we will meet again a few meters down. All my attention and focus go out to getting through this descent without getting hurt. It’s completely dark in this forest and the only light I have is the one attached to my helmet.
My Wahoo tells me the path should be here any minute now, just a couple of meters down. I am committed to find it and when I finally get back on track, I realize my derailleur hanger has broken off somewhere down the slope. I thank the person who told me to bring a spare one. I begin repairing my bike and I am proud. Never did I repair this part of my bike, let alone in the dark, after 12 hours of non-stop cycling.
I feel like such a pro.
It is one o’ clock now and my cell phone lights up: a concerned message from the organizer. ‘’You okay dude?’’ I let him know quickly I am back on track and I decide I will call it a day. I have been riding since 9 am this morning and I need a nap. I roll out my sleeping mat, get in my bivy and fall asleep quickly. One hour later I wake up from the raindrops on my face. What started out as a hot and sunny day in the Pyrenees, ended with a rain shower at night. I should have known this, the weather in the mountains can change rapidly. How could I forget?
I feel like such an amateur.
To be honest, I am an amateur when it comes to endurance races. I might have had my fair share of pro peloton experience in sufferfests, but this is a whole new ball game. Up until three weeks ago, I had never heard of a race called FURTHER. I asked my bike pack guru Bas Rotgans for any new exciting plans he had coming up. After all the cancelled events during Covid-19 lockdown, this event was the first opportunity to race again. Bas told me it was a little bit extreme, but I should definitely try it. How could this be extreme, I thought, I was in the Tour de France for 10 times?
FURTHER is the brainchild of organizer and photographer Camille McMillan and he does a great job in keeping it a bit secret. You can’t find much on the internet, except for some really nice shots on Instagram. The race manual consists of a packlist and some do’s and don’ts. And off course a SOS-tracker, a first aid kit and a rescue blanket are mandatory. Say what? Now that should be a great relief for the family at home, who can only follow the participants by watching their dots move on the screen.
The route consists of 16 segments, with scary names like ‘Smuggling’ and ‘Lost’’ and in between these segments, you are supposed to create the route yourself by using Komoot for example. No movement is allowed on certain segments between 9.00 am and 7.00 pm because of dangerous cliffs and /or dedicated dogs guarding their sheep. So it also turns out to be a tactical game, choosing your rest stops wisely (or not to rest at all…). At least 10 % of the route of 520 km and 15.000 altimeters is to be done by foot, carrying your loaded bike. What kind of people get in these sort of races?
This year, eleven to be exact. Nine men and two women. I recognized Christian Meier from our time in the pro peloton, so he was a former roady like me. James Mark Hayden, a specialist in endurance racing, was definitely going for the win. Jon Woodroof had packed so much stuff on his hand-built steal frame, if he would have told me he would go for a three week adventure, I would have believed him. There was a great ambiance, and somewhere between 9 and 10 am, the bell of the chapel would sound. This would mean go-time. No one knew exactly when, except for Camille of course.
It sounded and we were off. The first 100 km I found myself on tarmac, my specialty. I took the lead. The third segment turned out to be a proper hike-a-bike of 5 km long, ending at the first checkpoint: the refuge du Rulhe. At first I felt like the king of endurance, but just before the top, Christian passed me. We quickly spoke a few words. I wanted to know where James was. Christian told me not to worry about him, for he would certainly catch up on me, while I would take a nap. How true his words turned out to be. While I was ass-sliding my way through the forest and getting some seriously needed sleep afterwards, he had silently passed me by in the dark. After 56 hours I finished 3rd.
FRTHR was a beast. I suffered. Normally, when I go out for a ride, even a heavy one, I can reflect on anything. I think about work, relations, ideas for columns, etc. During this race, I could not think about a single thing. Looking ahead, checking the route, trying not to fall, while the only mantra that was on my mind was: I am still pedaling so I am doing okay.
I could not sit for a few days and my back was ruined because of all the hours I had carried my bike on my shoulder. And still, 5 minutes after the finish I had a big smile on my face and my only thought was: what would I do better next time? An experience like FRTHR just asks for more.
Photo credits go to FURTHER