GranGuanche Audax Road - Stevie's story

‘‘The first victory of riding an ultra bike race, is to get to that start line prepared.’’ Those are the words of the guru of ultra riding Bas Rotgans, and he is so right.

My goodness, what a hassle.

And I hate it when it becomes a hassle. Logistically complicated puzzles. I hate devices that won’t work. Empty batteries of devices. Devices you must not forget to take. Not forgetting to not forget those devices. Bikes that need to be taken in and out of bike bags. Adjusting drive trains that got screwed up during the flight. Ziplock bags with cards and cash, and all the other little stuff you might gonna need.

Hassle, hassle, hassle.

Getting into an ultra bike race is just a hassle, wether you go left or right.

But when you finally get to that startline, that is all behind you. Then you are clear to go. And those first few meters, the feeling of liberty takes over. A feeling like no other. All you need, you have on you, nothing more. Off the grid - on the bike. And knowing one actually doesn’t need that much is relaxing. A powerful, almost liberating feeling. You are independent and all the complex stuff that led up to this race is reduced to a black dot on your Wahoo.

Peddle - eat - drink - follow the dotted line.

That’s it. Nothing more.

Gran Guanche Road. That’s the name of the ultra road race that took us over the five Canary Islands. Five islands, 600 kilometers, 14000 vertical meters. Connected by ferry crossings.

Island hopping for bike addicts longing for suffering. An unforgettable adventure.

An ultra bike race is a race with long stages and almost no room for rest in between. And no fixed starting moments. For Laurens and Thomas it was the ultimate challenge to do the 600 kilometer in one stretch (two days), my friend Roger and I allowed ourselves a day extra. Two nights for some much needed sleep. Three days of peddling.

Three days on Canary roads, going from the endless beaches of Fuerteventura, the impressive black volcanic rock formations of Lanzarote, the brutal climb of the furious Pico de Nieve on the heavenly island of Gran Canaria, to Tenerife with its huge Teide and its massive plateau, finishing with desert: the jungle of La Gomera.

The approach: just keep peddling. Keep eating. Keep drinking. All the time. Never stop too often or too long. Keep peddling on climbs but also going downhill. Stay in the same pace. Not too fast, not too slow. Whatever our physical or mental state, keep those eyes on the power meter.

The power meter and the dotted line that is.

The approach worked. When we got behind schedule going up, we made up for it going down. Three days of peddling. From sunrise to sunset, but with moments of rest. When we got too early for the next boat (which is relative: you could say we were just a few minutes too late to make it to a ferry we would never had thought we would get in time to) we could lift up our legs and feet and stuff our mouths with food. A somehow frustrating moment too, watching the others get to that some boat…

The leveling force of ferries.

And so the hours went by. After three days and two short nights, we found ourselves at the end of the dotted line in the harbor of La Gomera. The finish line. We were there and we did not do too bad, actually. But most importantly: we did not crash, we did not DNF. It sounds weird, but just knowing that is a relief. You know you will have bad moments during a 600 kilometer ride. Stuff you have to deal with. In my case it was just a deranged front derailleur, which was solved in ten minutes. Lucky me.

Adios e gracias Canarias. You were great.. 

But also: ola, life outside the dotted line. Ola, real life. Ola, hassle.

The reality catches up with every contestant.

And from a dream we awoke.

A beautiful Spanish dream that is.

Photo credits go to mattminelli.com