Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Notes on the 200km Brevet this Sunday

 
Photos:
My (excess) gear, the starting venue in Gurgaon (Haryana), about 30km into the day, beginning of Nuh Ghati climb, first Control at Nuh, resting midway with fellow strangers, curious children at second Control at CCD


Organisation by Team T3 India
  • No road markers...anywhere. Easy to get lost. We were basically either following the other cyclists on assumption that they knew where to go, or asking the vendors alongside the road which direction the others had gone. Apparently some lost their way, not once, but twice.
  • At least one vehicle should've been pacing back and forth. The loudspeaker van they employed was apparently only for making a prolific speech at the start, not for coordinating the event.
  • Sadly, due to the mismanagement, the BRM turned into a survival challenge. Insufficient stock of Gatorade resulted in an ironic situation where those reaching at the end in great fatigue and in desperate need of salts/electrolytes, received none of it. MTB-ers pushing with 24% greater effort, and yet the road bikers stealing away all the supplies by the time they got to the checkpoints. Not fair.
  • In such light, the 400km BRM would surely be a news-making affair (for all the wrong reasons)
  • T3 is only a bunch of dedicated riders. They also need to be praised alongside.
  • Mumbai Brevets, however, were organised better.

Cycling on Haryana roads
  • Mornings, it’s the children first outta their homes. They feel excited. Then they start to get annoyed when not every cyclist responds with acknowledgement (busy spilling guts on the tarmac, they are), and start to throw stones, sugarcane stalks, and abuses to welcome others.
    As Neeraj put it… "It starts with 'Oye', then to 'Oye cycle', and finally 'Oye bhenchod'"
    Maybe Haryana's political unrest had to do something with it?
  • Afternoon, it were the more zesty youth on motorbikes, asking the same questions. They all seemed to have a perception that we were foreigners (that perception itself hints at sad state of things here in India).
  • 70% of our 200km stretch lacked a divider. One had to be wary of traffic coming from both the sides.
  • Tractors seem to have a trend of driving in the wrong direction, and often force you swerve to the center/overtaking lane. Dangerous.
  • Threshing - the practice of separating grain from husk - is made convenient by dumping piles of (dried) crop on the road, which creates a sudden confusion for the cyclist, and requires braking and swerving. Now counts among my 'lamest ways to accidently die'.
  • Favorite Moment: demonstrating my muscle power to a couple of Karizma jats by pacing from 20kmph upto 40kmph on my mountain bike, at a time when I thought I would be soon breaking into cramps.
  • Favorite Moment (accosted by another guy on motorbike):
    "Hello... Hello... where you... come?"
    "Hindi mein baat kar lo, yaar..."
    "No... I... Inglis... where you come?"

Personal Notes

Maybe we accidentally picked up Haste on the last stretch.
  • A 45 min late start, compounded by 30 min at the first checkpoint (trekking up the hill), and 50 min at the second (making conversation), almost had me screwed.
  • The Nuh climb was disappointing affair, especially after having sampled some 'ghati' climbs in the Western Ghats. A sad short downhill, as well.
  • The lull hit on the second stretch of ~75km. Maybe it was the 37C sun, or maybe the side-effects of inviting others, into a peloton that took breaks as a whole whenever either of us fancied one.
  • The last 25km stretch to Ggn was a fiery, nonstop affair. This happened majorly because of Chandresh catching up (after all his misfortunes), and us moving in tandem. Birds of the same feather fly together.
  • Mountain Bikes on future BRMs?... I'd rather come dressed up in a chicken-suit to augment the discomfort and embarrassment.

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