Mountain Biking - alternate training 2

It's been a real Monday today, and we've been undertaking really hard all day. It started off with the me driving through to Zürich to fetch the body of the 101-year-old dead lady who is to be buried in St. Moritz. The distance from Chur to Zürich Airport is only 150 km, but one has to drive through Zürich city itself, and this causes it to be a very stressful journey. At the airport, the formalities, as they always are in Switzerland, were sorted out in a very short time, and I was presented with the "human remains" in no time at all. A container was wheeled out to the hearse, and I could not believe the size of it. Apologies to sensitive Americans, but why do Americans have to over-do things to the extreme? I have never in my life seen such a big and heavy box for one tiny old lady. The coffin (casket) was inside the box, and only occupied about two-thirds of the space. There was no way I was going to get that in our hearse, and get the back door closed. Eventually, two of the guys from customs came and helped me, and they brought ropes so I could secure the back door as well as possible - it was still about ten centimetres open. I had an absolute horror of the ropes breaking and the coffin falling out while I drove home on the motorway!!!!! Thankfully, I arrived home safely, and we transferred the little old dear from her incredibly heavy and ostentatious casket in the giant wooden box, into a normal Swiss coffin for tomorrow's transport to her final resting place in St. Moritz!!!!!! It was all quite an experience. And then there were five other bodies, one being a HUGE fat German bloke (certainly around 140 kg in weight) who had collapsed and died of a heart attack in front of his hotel in a ski resort above Chur.

But I digress. Yesterday was another day of good mountain-biking. With lots of business things on, I wasn't too sure if I'd get to it, but, luckily enough, I did. Here is my tale......

After a lot of cold weather last week, compared to the 24°C when I had my last ride a fortnight ago, Sunday's forecast wasn't too bad, with sunshine, and a temperature of around 13°C in our area. I set off on my trusty mountain bike at around midday, heading in the same general direction as the ride two weeks ago. This time, though, instead of going straight along the Rhein, I cycled uphill towards the forests above Chur in the area known as Fürstenwald. It's a beautiful region, with walking and cycling tracks all over. The problem is getting there - it's steep. Nevertheless, I managed, and enetered the forest, my heart set on a good ride, even if my mind was still somewhat tumultuously inclined after one or two - let us say - incidents.

My little yellow wrist weather station, which I had mounted on the bike's handlebars instead of wearing on my wrist (which was already flashing "OVERWEIGHT" warnings, due to the Garmin 305 GPS gadget, and my Polar Heart Rate Monitor), showed a temperature of a mere 12°C, which was about 12° less than when I cycled last. Fortunately, I had been sensible (a first for me) and worn my running jacket as well as my running gloves, and thank goodness I did. I did, however, don my short Lycra running shorts, but legs seem to repel the cold.

There were a lot of people walking through the forest, despite the damp and mud caused by the recent snowfalls and rain. I was a paragon of politeness as I slowed down when I rode past earthlings, making sure I did not cover them in brown mud, despite often wishing I could just do it for the fun of it. My mountain bike has no mud guards, and I was aware of the mud flying up my back and coating my apparel in dirt. My legs, too, were very soon covered in nature's goo, but I took it in my stride, and pedalled ever onwards and upwards.

Once out of the forest, I came to the village of Trimmis, which presents some steep tarred roads, and a chance to increase the average velocity on my bike's computer by thundering down the inclines after the lofty elevations in the forest. There were far fewer cyclists en route this time, but a lot of families pushing prams - at times I felt like I was doing a slalom due to the number of such phenomena. Once through Trimmis, it was across the famous vineyards of our region, more on trails, than on cycling tracks or roads, and I gave the mountain bike a run for its money. Mud and pieces of cow-do flew all over the place, and I must have been quite a sight to behold once I reached the next village of Zizers.

Through Zizers I went, noticing how the temperature had risen to a staggering 13°C. A lot of the trees have already started giving off their deadly (to me) pollen, and I was very aware of my hay-fever starting. Try cycling through the centre of a village, while sneezing profusely, and, at the same time, avoid the fountains and statues that such settlements fame themselves for. Leaving behind a profusion of fallen granite memorials and thoroughly damaged water features, I escaped the inevitable stone-throwing, and sped along to the next village of Landquart, situated on the Landquart River. There is a supermarket there, which opens on Sundays (unlike most other shops in Switzerland), and there, I availed myself of a litre of Gatorade, and three (hopefully) healthy energy bars. My ride a fortnight before, was basically foodless, and I ended up with rather a severe cramp in my right quadricep muscle at one stage, so I thought it best to eat this time. Surprisingly enough, it worked, and I had a cramp-free ride.

From Landquart, it was along tracks again through the forest, and on to the thermal baths resort of Bad Ragaz, further along the Rhein, and towards Liechtenstein, but, before I went across a bridge to that little place, I veered southwards, and headed through the town of Sargans. All the way to Sargans, the temperature remained at about 13°C, and I had a head-wind. The north wind was blowing, and I was heading northwards, which meant, that my homeward journey would be with the wind behind me, unlike the trip last time. In Sargans, I stopped to eat some sawdust-type energy bar, and noticed a significant rise of temperature to around 15°C. This could only mean one of two things - either, my body was emanating heat from the energy bar, or, more likely, the Föhn had started blowing. This is the warm, south-westerly wind which comes in from the south over the mountains, and down the Rhein valley, warming and drying as it descends. I had had a head-wind all the way to Sargans; now I was to have the same back to Chur. A non-happy bunny decided it was time to forego the planned ride to Walenstadt (about one third of the way from Chur to Zürich), and get home before the Föhn got nasty!!!!

And so, while Bob spent the afternoon sorting out his stamp collection, and Jill tried a home perm which left her bald and sporting some horrible burn marks on her scalp, I left Sargans and headed back to Chur, my mind trying to come to terms with the extra energy that I would then expend, thanks to the Föhn. In honesty, what came to my mind a lot, was a phrase used by a recent Swiss runner of the Marathon des Sables - when asked what advice he could give to future runners (like me), he retorted: Learn to suffer without complaining. I tried it. It actually wasn't too bad, especially as I took a more forested route than the outward way, but this meant a lot of time in the shade. The temperature oscillated between 10°C in the forest midst, to 16°C in the full sunshine.

It was getting on towards four o'clock in the afternoon when avid geologist Heinrich McDuff finally discovered some black chernozem soil he'd been looking for since the death of his mongoloid hamster, Simon, and I, my Sartorius muscles throbbing in response to the harsh meteorological conditions, found his trail blocked by a horse with proctological problems of a pronounced propensity. I managed to slam on brakes just as I hit a putrid pile of equine excrement, which left my back covered and smelling. The rider of said equinal bestiality smirked as she gloated openly while I rode sedately past. I am not a fan of horse riders.

The last ten kilometres, or so, before I entered the confines of Chur, saw me quite alone, and getting steadily colder. The temperature was dropping markedly as the sun sank behind the mountains. I decided I'd set the dogs on Mother Nature, if ever I got the chance, and pushed my way forward, dreaming of a glass of fine red South African wine when I eventually arrived home.
The distance I covered was either just above, or ever-so-slightly below, 70 km, whether you believe the my Garmin GPS gadget, or the bike computer. Nevertheless, it was a good ride, and I felt great when I arrived home, stopping off first in Café Arcas for a swift pint (beer, not wine).

My efforts were rewarded with a long, hot bath and the noted South African red. I'd expended about 2600 kcals, covered around 70 kms, and certainly improved the tone of my leg muscles for cycling, and hopefully also for future running. I am now very keen to do my planned Zürich-Chur journey by mountain bike again, but this will have to be co-ordinated with the weather.

I suppose one could say, that, after running (there is no passion as intense as this for me), my two greatest sport enjoyments are workouts in gym and my cycling. I've done cycling on and off for many years here in Switzerland, especially down in Carona, but I find, now that I am temporarily unable to run, this is, too, a most satisfying way of keeping fit, unlike Bob, Jill and Heinrich above. I may just refrain from subjecting myself to a frontal lobotomy, as long as I can find gratification in cycling.

For this coming weekend, the long-range forecast is somewhat inclement, but who knows what might transpire, and perhaps I will be on my metallic steed once again.