Staples Rodway Cape Challenge Dec 2009
By Dale Dudman
When I first heard about this event, it felt like just what I was looking for. Having walked several half marathons, I felt ready for the advertised 28 kms, and the date was perfect – just one week before I was due to go overseas for Christmas : a good dose of our lovely Hawkes Bay to take in my memory bank, and a chance to see some beautiful HB coastline not normally accessible to the public.
I tried not to feel concerned when several people were surprised that I planned to do all three legs myself. It seemed most were planning to participate as teams. When asked what time I expected to do, my guess was 4½-5 hours. The club walk along Clifton Beach to Cape Kidnappers a couple of weeks earlier was very helpful in getting a preview of the first leg. Although I had done the trip by beach tractor to visit the gannet colony, I had never actually walked it.
Very efficient organization on the part of Staples Rodway and Dave Tait was first evident when I collected my goodies bag on the Friday afternoon. It felt like a good omen to find I had scored bib #2!
My main concern in the days prior was the weather forecast which hovered between hot and very hot, and cloudless. However it softened a little to give the prospect of some welcome cloud. Since I knew the last part was alongside the stream, I innocently pictured lovely shady trees to alleviate the worst of it once the day got warmer. (So many innocent assumptions ..)
The usual nervous tension on the morning and as we gathered for the start, but that always vanishes the moment the starter’s gun sounds. Off along that beach, hoping the 7.30 a.m. start would mean that we could get the first leg completed before it got too hot. No danger – it actually started to drizzle a little, and I later heard people waiting at the transition points got very cold. I had taken absolute minimum gear, packing sun block and electrolyte sachets and as much water as could be comfortably carried in a borrowed camel pack and no jacket at all.
Robyn C from the club was my companion for the first part, but her stride soon outpaced mine. I kept with the first 20 walkers for most of the beach, not knowing which were competing as individuals or teams. Willem from the club was my next walking mate, along with a friend from work, Paddy, but they were both to outstride me before we started up the hill to the gannets. Now it was time to fall back on months of training up the Goat Track on Te Mata Peak – no dropping the pace. Only to realize I was now being passed by the first runners, and on very narrow tracks. A quick glance over to the left to the famous gannets colony (must come back another day when there is more time), and head towards the first transition. Robyn had by now handed over to teammate Bruce, but was waiting on the sideline to barrack for me while waiting for transport back - so encouraging to hear a voice cheering me on. I was rather envious of the participants who at that point were finished, and also the fresh ones just starting out. Grabbed a couple of cups of water, one to swallow and the other to pour over my steaming scalp.
We had beautiful views coming down to sea level at Rangaiika and even saw a small plane land on the beach. By now there were fewer others in sight, and it was a matter of keeping eyes peeled for colourful markers showing the path, often through 10 ft high gorse which left its mark on my bare arms and legs. Hopefully next year the organizer will leave himself more time to slash a wider path and plant a few more markers. This is a site of historical significance, having been a whaling station a couple of hundred years ago. Resolve to go to the library and find out more.
Then up the steepest hill. I could see the trail of figures creeping up ahead of me like ants, many stopping or walking with hands on hips – a sure sign that the going is tough. At one stage I was walking bent so far forward that I veered off the track for a while.
Even though I had studied the topographical map published on the website, I had not expected the course to have so many sharp ups and downs. Even the downhills were difficult, but fortunately I had recently heard Joff’s Word on technique for downhill: tiny steps.
It seemed each time we came to the “top” of a hill, it would simply turn a bend then continue up and up again! No matter how many times I told myself it must soon be all downhill, the course kept coming up with more uphill challenges.
The nature reserve provided some welcome serenity, with our wonderful native birds cheering us along, seemingly undaunted by the invasion. Luckily for most of the day there was high cloud cover - it would have been blisteringly hot otherwise.
Through the second transition, with more lucky people finishing their stint, and a fresh group setting out. Then alongside the predator fence of the reserve, again up and down steeply. For the most part I walked by myself, or tried to keep up with other walkers for as long as I could. The scenery was absolutely stunning, but as so often happens during events, it seemed a shame to be concentrating on covering the distance as speedily as possible rather than stopping to drink in the spectacular views.
Somewhere along here I looked at my watch, and calculated that I should be finished in less than an hour. How wrong I was!
At last down to the stream – the first crossing so welcomely cool and refreshing, only ankle-deep. Then several more crossings as the path wound its way alongside, sometimes hardly being there at all, amounting to not much more than a foothold on the side of a steep bank, and only half the width of my foot at that. The major crossing was set up with a rope, and marshals at each side to direct and assist. Chest-deep water had been mentioned at the briefing, but to be honest I suspected the Director was joking. Not so! The woman who hauled me up the far bank taught me a lesson in total trust of a fellow human, giving very precise instructions and luckily having huge reserves of strength for the task. I had hoped to catch up with a group who had not been very far ahead, but the crossing took quite a few minutes and they got away on me again.
So it was alongside the stream, eyes peeled for a path – no more markers to guide the way. At times I felt I could be the only person left in the event, and just had to hope that by following the stream I would eventually come out at the sea, barring gorges! It seemed to go on forever.
I must have got it wrong a couple of times, stumbling through a patch of barley grass and ending up with the vicious needle-like seeds smothering my shoes and socks and digging into my feet, making it necessary to stop a couple of times to extract as many as possible. But my fingernails were soft from all the soakings, and much later when a very welcome marshall came into view, she helped me extract a nasty seed from where it was digging into my toe most painfully.
Apparently some people did get lost, and some talked about crossing where the water was neck-deep, so I was lucky to avoid that.
It was a relief to come out onto the roadway and be able to get my pace up a bit, for the last km or so. Those wonderful marshalls on the road stopped the traffic. I think if I had had to stop, my legs would not get started again. Plenty of encouragement from participants leaving, or standing along the way encouraged me to the finishing post.
My estimate of five hours turned out to be 1¼ hours too optimistic, but the welcome at the end was worth every minute of it. We did learn later that it was several kilometers longer than expected…
Congratulations to the organizers on a tremendous event. And for all the miscalculations I made, I got one thing right – I had a head filled with wonderful memories to savour later. Now I am planning how I can do it better next time!
For more photos of the event, go to http://www.capechallenge.co.nz/ and click on “Gallery” in the menu under the photo strip at the top.
