Fiji Bike Ride – Part One

“Get a bicycle.  You will not regret it – if you live”. ~Mark Twain,

I had spoken to Rick Eyre, Rotary Club Project Manager, more and more in the build up as last minute hiccups arose so wasn’t surprised to see his number flashing up on my phone once again.

“Stuart, its Rick. You still on schedule for 7.30??”

“erm, yeah – I’m in the hospital grounds now. Where are you?”

It was 7.37am.

We had agreed to meet at 7.30am for tea, cake, and a photo of me, the bike and the Rotary Club Members, before setting off from the Main Hospital at 8am.

Rick was now down near the boiler, which I had already passed. I couldn’t see Rick, so I him called again. I could see up to where I had come from, the vacant area around the boiler, and then looked down to the left. I could see another road partially obscured by trees, and blood donor vans. It was then that Rick told me he was down that road…near the mortuary!

Mortuary??  This wasn’t part of the plan.  Mortuary!!  My heart skipped a beat. Yes, the idea was to start and finish at Lautoka Hospital, but bring the word mortuary into the equation and I start to panic a little bit. I wanted to start and finish on my terms, and not be returned in an emergency vehicle with flashing lights. Whenever I had previously discussed my start and finish points I always wanted to clarify, my return to the hospital would be as planned – with me, pedaling the bike, and not the ‘flashing lights’ scenario that for some reason my mind would play over a few too many times.

I think this ‘fear’ comes from the first ride for 2010, when I said to Rob ‘at least I get to test my new helmet today’, of coursing only meaning that I get to ‘wear it today’. 13km later I was flat on my back, grazed and bloodied from a fall on a steep descent through what Rob calls ‘Pine Forest Loop’. Rider error.

But at least the protective visor – designed to block out the sun, keep twigs and branches out my eyes, and to snap off in the event of a fall – had done its job. It had snapped off. I had tested the helmet after all.

Back to today, I found Rick and the Rotary Club President and Club Members on the grass opposite the Mortuary. A wonderful spread of tea, coffee, cake, biscuits and juice was set out before me.

Suddenly it was stating to become real. This was all just an idea I had. Me, a bike, a few kilometers of a nations roads. Only a few days earlier one journalist had thanked me ‘on behalf of Fiji’. I had never been thanked on behalf of a nation before. What if I didn’t make it? What if, what if?  I had to rechannel my thoughts. I just wanted a bike ride, and decided to have a charity to benefit for the cause. Friends had donated good money for me to ride round Fiji. I couldn’t let them down.

We exchanged speeches of thanks and support, and got the required photo.

Twenty minutes later than my planned 8am departure, I was on the road. The clock started ticking.

I wanted to get away from Lautoka as quickly as I could. I knew I averaged 20-30kmh over flattish roads depending on wind conditions, so I knew exactly how long ‘getting away’ from Lautoka would take. I had used the Kings Road to Ba a few times in training in the 2 weeks before today, so I knew every bit of road. Every uphill, downhill, bumpy bump – and sadly, the headwind hotspots. The extra weight of my kit and spare tyres in the rear panniers weren’t that noticeable except for the climbs. These 4 days weren’t really about speed in its entirety anyway. ‘Steady progress’ is what I would associate with this ride. It wasn’t about top speed or sprints. I knew I could be spending up to 7 hours each day in the saddle, so steady riding was all I had to concentrate on.

Vadravadra Village, just beyond Ba had become a regular stopping point; 40km and a couple of hours from Lautoka. Shaded rest, a village shop for fluids and snacks, and a friendly owner who was showing more and more curiosity to the more frequent appearances of a white boy and his bike. Today my story was in the papers anyway. She had the paper open at the page.

“Hey, this is you. Hello Stuart”

I laughed and returned pleasantries.

We joked and talked about the ride, which more and more I was starting to refer to as ‘the challenge’.

Jokes aside, she asked “do you think you can do it in 4 days? It’s far.”

The more I was questioned, the more I started to think about the challenge I had set myself. Quick fire “yes” answers, had made way for thinking time, pauses, and a longer constructed answer – perhaps masking my own hidden concerns – but accepting the reality that 481km is far!

Yes, 481km is far. Nearly 300 miles. Of course it’s far. It is the sort of distance you would travel in a car, not a bike. I was on a bike. Why was I doing this again?

The original idea was to complete the loop in 6 days, but that’s just a ride, not a challenge. To be more challenging it needed to be 5 days. That’s how I presented the challenge. In training, I figured, even at a worst average speed I would be somewhere near 20kmh. That would make it 24 hours. 6 hours a day, for 4 days would be enough to get me round Fiji. The Challenge was set.

Fiji lends itself to long sunny days. I made a deal that I would need to be off the road for 5pm each day. Working back, with hourly stoppages, and a bigger lunch break, I knew I should be starting each day 8.30am absolute latest. Of course 481km is far. But break it down and it became more than feasible – achievable in fact.

I knew hills and headwinds would slow me down, and I anticipated ‘low energy’ moments. Yet tailwinds, and fast rolling roads allow faster speeds, so on average – this was do able.

Wayward drivers aside, I was fit enough, and the challenge was achievable. All I needed was a good start, and a bike that would last 481km too.

Soon after Vadravadra I was off the road. As I often found in preparation, buses don’t leave you much room – particularly when 2 of them meet head on at the point in the road where you are too. Horns sounded, but I wasn’t sure if they were ‘warning’ each other, or the one coming from behind me was ‘warning’ me about the lack of room. A quick glance is enough to reveal if the advancing traffic is giving you enough room or not. I found out the hard way in training, when I didn’t check and I, well, it could have been nasty. It was more than a wake up call.

This time I took no chances. I glanced over my shoulder and pulled left, and got out of the way. I would rather risk the road side debris than go under a few tonne of metal travelling at 60kmh!

This time though there was a bit of a drop from the road, a few unwelcome bumps, and the hidden remains of a concrete kilometer marker that are found on the roadsides in Fiji. My foot slipped backward, hitting the pannier and spokes, and maybe the marker hit the derailleur and spokes too.

The bike took a hit. I got off and checked as best I could. Everything seemed to roll, spin, and turn as it should, and click in the right places. I jumped back on and carried on. Not much further and the rear wheel started to make the same sound it did the week before just before a spoke snapped.  There are only a few things I can repair roadside, and snapped spokes is not one of the them. It brought a 100km training ride to an abrupt halt and opened my eyes to the potential hazards of the challenge itself. If it happened this week, then is all that training, preparation and the monetary donations all in vain?? ‘Please no’ I thought. ‘Not today. Not this week. I need a good start. This isn’t it. I have to get round Fiji’

I made it to Tavua – and slightly behind schedule, this was my lunch stop. I scoured the shops signs for ‘fast-food’, ‘takeaway’, and looked for the familiar displays of rice, chips, sausages, chicken pieces etc. I found one. Chicken Chopsuey ordered, I waited outside. The neighbouring fashion outlet owner appeared with his paper.

“Hello Stuart” he announced proudly.

“Ha, Hello”

“So all the way around then? How’s it going?”

“erm”. I hesitated. “its ok. Think the bike got knocked though…”

“oh. Good luck anyway” and he returned to the customer in his shop.

Usually I would get the food then retreat to a quiet shaded bench to relax, eat, and re-focus – not only for today, but the repetition of doing this for 4 days, maybe 5.  I didn’t really want to talk to anyone during the break. Just eat, and get my mind at ease.

These challenges are a combination of physical, mental, and emotional strain. All I had done for the past 2 weeks was ride, think and dream about bikes! I allowed 30-45 minutes for most lunch breaks, and Tavua looked quite busy, so I changed my plan and decided to eat in the quiet restaurant instead. The owner was kind enough to let me bring the bike inside aswell. ‘Table for two indeed!’.  I always struggled to find the balance between refueling and consuming enough food, but also to consume it slow enough to allow the body to absorb it all and not be overloaded, and risk indigestion, heartburn etc. Growing up we always get told, no exercise until 1 or 2 hours after eating. I had a great portion of food in front of me. Within 30 minutes, I was to be back on that bike eating away at the now 420km ahead of me.

I needed to eat; I needed to be back on the bike. It was a fine line.

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