Years ago I read an article in Bicycling Magazine about Matt Damon riding the Argus. At the time I thought riding a tandem was a bit lame for Jason Bourne. I was 16439.9 km from Cape Town and taking part seemed like a dream. I might need that tandem by the time I made it there.
Fast forward two years and I’m a local athlete. Since moving to Cape Town from Canada the most common question when someone sees your bicycle is “˜What’s your Argus time?’ Windy year or not, it’s the baseline for all cyclists to measure themselves (and each other) against.
Fortunately on Sunday morning the wind was still. So still that I could hear, from my balcony in Vredehoek, the announcer saying, “˜Everybody say WHOOPA!’ to the pro start – there was no reply from the pros. There seems to be two ways to approach the Pick n Pay Argus Cycle Tour: either to best your previous time or to get “˜full value’. We chose the latter.
Riding down to the start line felt like a scene from science fiction. Everywhere you look “¦ lycra. If you decide to finish the Argus with a partner it helps to have a matching kit. Not only do you look cool, but it prevents random wheel huggers from hopping onto your speedy boyfriend’s wheel. The start of the Argus is mostly just shuffling and pushing before you are set free onto the peninsula. Riding along the national road gives you something to daydream about next time you’re stuck in traffic. In no time we were past UCT, over the infamous Edinburgh Drive and into Kalk Bay.
Just over Boyes Drive a speedy international cyclist from group AA whizzed past me tearing into his energy gel and dropping the wrapper on the road. I was elated to see that karma found him later – sitting by the side of the road in Simon’s Town fixing a flat tyre.
It was a stunning day to be on the peninsula. The ‘loo with a view’ into Cape Point, the men with whips keeping the baboons at bay and the two cyclists dressed in neon green and orange (from head to toe), asking us if we had seen the blue, were only a few examples of the smiles along the way.
After a picturesque climb up Chapman’s Peak we were heading into the dreaded Suikerbossie. The spirit in Hout Bay and all the way up Suikerbossie was Cape Town’s Alpe d’Huez. Their cheers pushed me up the hill and I could only imagine that as long as the BBC’s kept flowing they were only going to get louder as the day wore on.
Around four and a half hours after shouting ‘Whoopa’ we arrived at Cape Town Stadium. It wasn’t my quads or calves or glutes that hurt, it was my cheeks from so much smiling. Finally I have an Argus time to beat.
