Words By: Michael Masson
Photos By: Graham Fleet
Wednesday, 1st February 2012, 08:30 a.m.
Months of training, hard work and long rides have all brought me to this moment. In spite of all the work, I am not entirely sure how well I will perform. But I have done everything I can to be ready. The training is now complete. The bike is cleaned, checked and lubed. My CamelBak is stocked with water and spares, and I have a couple of gels stuffed into the leggings of my cycling shorts.
I am on the start line of day one of the TransHajar MTB Race in the magnificent Hajar Mountains in Oman. My stomach is in knots and I know today’s race is mostly against the clock. It’s the individual time trial and I am being counted down to my start. Riders are being sent out in one-minute intervals. It’s a 39.5km course that offers a mixture of challenges and varying courses. The timekeeper finally bellows, “3-2-1-GO!”
My movement is certainly no F1 pace, but it’s got my heart thumping and my legs working. The course is marked with bright pink markers – a brilliant choice. There is certainly no second-guessing the way to go and my focus is on the route. I’m thankful for full suspension technology. Some of the obstacles certainly rattle my aging frame, but my Giant Anthem X is working flawlessly and my body is pumping. The magnificent scenery and perfect weather take some of the sting off, but not all of it.
I reach the short sharp hills of the Arqi Loop just past the halfway mark and my heart rate is at an all-time new record. The hills are way steep and the downhill on the other side simply leads to yet another steep climb. By the time I reach the single track section, my legs feel like lead. The terrain through the single track is simply awesome. Only goat trails and the pink markers to light my way. My technical skills are truly put to the test as I round small boulders and trees to keep my pace up. I then reach the wadi bed that is covered in shoebox-sized rocks and aptly named “The Rock Garden.” I keep my poise and momentum and clear the wadi leading into a series of goat trails. I approach a narrow pass and to my surprise, I see nothing but a rocky steep descent that leads into the goat trails of a wider flat area.
I‘m really pumping and my heart rate has never been so high. I clear the goat trails, cross a small rocky obstacle and enter a wide wadi with old tracks. I approach the last descent and I’m surprised by the loose surface. I manage to negotiate the turns and the fast approach into the soft pebbles of the wadi below.
I pass the finish line in just under two hours and I’m stoked. There are three more days and they guarantee to push my limits. I’m really looking forward to it.
I originally entered the race to prepare for the Cape Epic in South Africa in March, and this is perfectly timed for those planning to take on that big race. Besides, it’s only a four-day race, so how hard can it be?
I finish putting up my tent, and then take a shower at the shower block in the Race village. I chill with the other racers near the Race Office and talk bikes with people from all over the Gulf region. Some have travelled from as far as Spain and Switzerland to be here today, and like all mountain bikers, they’re all pretty laid back.
The timekeepers post the results of the day and like bees to honey, we hover around the results pages discussing the standings. The Race Village is well equipped with power generators and lights and a small chill zone of sorts. We retreat to our cocoons in anticipations of tomorrow’s stage.
Thursday, 2nd February 2012, 06:30 a.m.
Just like an orchestra, alarms start going off within seconds from all over the camping grounds. People emerge from their tents; some are feeling the pain, while others look somewhat fresh – I belong in the former group. I start preparing breakfast: oats with a banana and honey and a couple of fried eggs. The breakfast of champions! Race start is 8:00 a.m.
Friendly banter fills the air as the aroma of coffee wafts around the camp. Today’s stage is the first of three marathon stages and although the time trial of yesterday took some effort, we still have some in reserve for this 86km stage. No sooner have you finished breakfast, lubed your chain and got dressed, then it’s already time to head over for the briefing.
The pre-stage meeting sees all the riders congregate around the entrance to the Race Office and race founder, Lake Arapakis, describes the challenge of the day. The various obstacles to be aware of and other details are described. He is joined by the route director and co-founder, David Beniston, who further discusses some of today’s more notable sights.
With 10 minutes before the start, we line up for the group start. We’re all a lot more relaxed this morning having survived the time trial of yesterday. At 86km of racing, we were really in for a treat. The pace was fast, but the steep hills played a significant role in splitting the group. The lead riders had long disappeared and I was to discover later that they were all riding together for most of the stage until the last 20km, which saw all riders racing back to the Race Village finish line through Wadi Lahloo. The challenge here is that the wadi is mostly uphill and the steep little climbs only add to the effort. With 60-something kilometres already in our legs, this part of the race is just torture.
My legs are cramping and my well-thought out nutrition and hydration plan is being put to the test. I’m suffering climbing the last hill before the finish. The sight of footprints is both reassuring (I’m not the only one to walk this last hill), and a warning of what happens next. Both my legs cramp at the same time and I’m alone on the hill waiting for the muscles to loosen up. It takes a minute or so and I step off the bike and start the push over the top. The descent to the finish is one of the most excruciating moments of relief that I have ever encountered. I find out later in the afternoon that everyone, including the lead riders felt exactly the same way.
Friday, 3rd February 2012, 7:45 a.m.
We’ve just been told that we have 114km of “incredible” riding to look forward to today. I look around at some of the other riders, and those whose eyes I catch do not appear to share Lake’s enthusiasm. We are told that there is a mix of tracks, blacktop, graded roads, and the soft wadi beds of Wadi Quriyat. The pace starts gently enough with the lead riders controlling the pace, until we hit the trails of the aptly named “Power Line Trail.” The leaders take off and a large plume of dust marks their progress. As for me and those around me, the effort of the last two days is speaking volumes. But it’s a race and we press on. The walls of Wadi Quriyat are simply magnificent and seem to rise into the sky. Small river crossings add a certain element of challenge that was really unexpected in a desert race. The wadi floor with its pebbles and soft trails really take a lot of work. We reach the climb of the old Quriyat Highway and even though it’s blacktop, it’s grade reminds you to do a bit more hill work.
The ride to the finish seems endless, and then we turn into “The Spike,” an impossible climb that forces everyone to portage their rides to the top. The effort is debilitating and my calves are burning, but there is no point in stopping. The relief at the top is greeted by a steep descent and the last few kilometers over old tracks are welcomed. I reach the finish completely spent. I have just taken on one of the biggest days on a mountain bike, and I only have one more day before becoming an official TransHajar finisher.
Saturday, 4th February 2012, 08:00 a.m.
Everyone’s legs are feeling the past three days. It’s just as painful for the guys struggling in the back of the pack as it is for those in the lead. Today’s course will be shorter, but still tough. The plan is to get everyone across the finish in time for lunch and the closing ceremonies. Three nights in a tent and three days of solid racing have taken their toll on my body. I lined up for the start this morning with a determination to earn my finisher’s medallion. The course starts off with a massive climb. I just don’t have the power today and I find myself amongst the majority of riders who resort to pushing their rides up this climb. The single track section tests the technical skills, but it’s hard to find the strength. There is nothing but relief at the finish. My smile says it all and I feel the pride overwhelm me. I have just completed four, great days of racing through some of Oman’s most picturesque scenery.
