Day Five, Thursday

We woke early to begin our steady ride and hike up the volcano for the first race run. About halfway up we started the sketchy hike–a–bike up a steep rock ridge, to the race start point. We pushed on up to the summit, it didn’t look much further but in reality it was a long old hike at altitude with no shade from the hot sun. It was well worth it though for the incredible view and the good feeling at the summit of 3000 metres with all the team up there. Looking down into the crater you could see and smell the sulphur fumes rising from the vents. Then very soon, it was time to start the first race.

We had drawn cards the night before for our starting positions and Anka Martin had drawn the unenviable position of first rider down. This was always going to be tough with no tyre tracks to follow on the wide blank black canvas and no–one knew just what the grip and braking would be like on the ash. She rode it well and the rest of us could see what it was like to ride, so when Mark Weir lined up he set the tone by pedalling out of the start straight up to speed. Nico Vouilloz speed–tucked the volcano and was lightning fast down the slope. Rene’s bike computer registered 88kph which is shifting some, on gravel and rock.

After the steep ash was a section of loose gravelly and rocky singletrack, with no real defined line it was easy to lose your way. The villagers had all come out onto the course to watch and cheer everyone on. What followed the ride through the village was a 7km flat pedal along the cobbled road, still at altitude, that eventually led into a steep and technical final descent to the finish.

This was tortuous, quite literally. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a downhill to finish before. Hundreds and hundreds of wooden steps all around 1–2ft drop–offs awkwardly spaced in a gulley, so getting any flow was super hard and several crashes had exhausted me and I was willing the finish line to come. It was really physically demanding, with arms pumped up so hard; I’ve never felt out of control for 20+ minutes at about 3mph before! The fastest guys made relatively light work out of what was a really physically tough run, with Jerome Clementz pipping Nico for the stage win. Tracy Moseley also rode a great race here on a bike set up that wasn’t perfect as she didn’t have long travel forks, but she put in a solid ride. The rest of us rode, slid, scrambled and fell down the singletrack and there was a good sense of relief to see the finish line where all the riders gathered along with many of the local people who had come out to see what was going on. Run one was hard, bonkers and amazing all at the same time.

We were driven along a wild coastal road and back up to the volcano at night where the night sky lit it up. There is no mains electricity in the homes up there and with no ambient light, the sky was incredible, probably the most vivid night sky I’ve ever seen.

We were up at daybreak to descent back down from the volcano by minibus and to the ferry. The drive down was really enjoyable as we had a good chance to see more of the island and its people. Our time on Fogo was over and it had been a pleasure.

Our boat journey however, was not! We had to catch the ferry back to the island of Santiago, but however rough we thought it was on the way over, on the way back it was rougher, there was about an 80% sick rate and it was a war of attrition as we each settled into our own zone to fight the chunder – solidarity brother.

Once off the boat it was a quick bus trip to the airport and another two planes from island to island – Praia to Sal, Sal to Sao Vicente. We spent the night on Sao Vicente, probably the most developed of the islands.

Another early start as we went down to the port to catch another ferry, this time from San Vicente to the island of Santo Antao where we would do the remainder of the race runs. This was a much more relaxed ride on a traditional car ferry sitting out in the open air. With a large capoeira group (a Brazilian art form that combines elements of martial arts, sports, and music…thanks Wikipedia!) on board we had an awesome free performance as they danced, drummed and sang all the way across.

It is a testament to Fred and Manou’s hard work that the riding on Santo Antao happened at all, with such a spread out area that we were covering for this event (and random flights and boats that link the islands) transporting 18 bikes and 25 peoples’ bags was no mean feat. In order to make everything run smoothly they had chartered a small plane to move our bikes from the island of Santiago to the race site on Santo Antao. All sorted…or so they thought. At the last minute the flight was cancelled, our bikes were unloaded and we were stranded. Fabien, Fred and Manou were working tirelessly behind the scenes to keep everything on track and to prevent the trip and race grinding to a halt. After many phone calls and an emergency meeting they managed to get the bikes flown to the next island and then hired a small fishing boat to bring them across to Santo Antao.

Rolling with the schedule changes was just part of the adventure and no one minded, we had it easy as riders, but hats off to the crew who pulled this all together and managed despite many a complication to keep this ship on course.

And I’m very grateful that they did, as Saturday turned into quite a day, probably one of the most enjoyable and memorable experiences I’ve had with my bike. The island of Santo Antao is completely stunning with big mountains looming dead ahead as we left the port, we drove up a long winding mountain road and were looking at how stunning the slopes were, they just looked perfect for building trails, high, long and not too steep, but of course in true Urge fashion we drove straight past those enticing slopes and up into the low hanging cloud, mist and strong wind! Over the top of the pass we dropped into a little enclosed hidden valley, at high altitude it was very lush in comparison to everything we had seen before and the black desert of Fogo. There were some small communities living up there working the fertile soils and cool, moist air and a few passed us carrying produce and water by donkeys, they looked more than a bit surprised to see us all building bikes and kitting up.