Everest or bust ... on a bike!
July 24, 2013
Some 30 minutes after midnight on July 19 I set off from home for Singapore's Mount Faber with the intention "to Everest" it. What a great new verb, the meaning of which is to climb the height of Everest on one hill or mountain in one single ride. That's 8,848 metres. And I somehow managed to accomplish my task, finally rolling to a stop at the summit just after 9pm, having completed 330km and 9,116m of vertical elevation.
The most popular question I've been asked over the past few days is the obvious one, "why?" Well, the quick answer is of course "why not?"
But I guess you could say it started back in August 2011 when on the holiday marking Singapore National Day, my good friend John "Legend" McCann and I set out to do 50 Fabers. Singapore is a small and fairly flat island and so to do any meaningful climbing entails lots of repeats of the few hills we have. Mt Faber is probably the most popular climb but it's certainly no mountain, standing as it does at just 105m. Two roads go up it and they converge just before the summit, with the col du Faber, to borrow a classic cycling term from the French, at an elevation of 99m.
There had been an organized group session to do the 50 Fabers earlier that year which we'd missed out on but once we'd heard about it after the fact, I guess the idea of emulating the two or three people who had achieved the crazy feat was engrained in our brains.
Legend and I appealed to a few of our mates from our Mavericks cycling team but in the end there were just the two of us that day and we knocked out the required 50, plus one more to enjoy a beer at the hill-top restaurant, in some 10 hours including breaks.
I enjoyed that day immensely and wasn't "bored to death" as some had suggested I would be, but I certainly never thought I'd do it again.
Indeed, when in July 2013 the Legend opened up the possibility of doing 100 Fabers I completely dismissed the idea. But then in May this year another one of the Mavericks, David "Waxo" Wilkins, discovered the whole "Everesting" concept and he jokingly challenged me to do it for the team.
I immediately got onto McCann and asked him what he thought. He loved the idea, however, he's not been riding as much as he used to so politely declined. But since that first communication he's been on board as chief logistics officer.
I set a date to attempt the Everesting a few times over the next couple of months but one or two injuries, a crash and just normal life getting in the way scuppered those plans and in hindsight that was lucky. I'd initially planned to tell no-one but McCann about the attempt as figured I might fail and so didn't need the added extra pressure from my friends and peers. But then the stars aligned nicely for July 19 to be the date of climbing destiny. The 2014 edition of the annual Rapha Rising Challenge on Strava, which dares people to ride 8,800m in a week, was due to start on that day. I've completed the task the past two years, once in Singapore and once in the French Alps while following the Tour. As its goal was only 48m lower than an Everesting, it became obvious that combining the two was the only way to go. Additionally, the fact that Rapha Rising started on a Saturday was convenient as it would allow me to knock the whole thing off and have Sunday to recover.
Some 30 minutes after midnight on July 19 I set off from home for Singapore's Mount Faber with the intention "to Everest" it. What a great new verb, the meaning of which is to climb the height of Everest on one hill or mountain in one single ride. That's 8,848 metres. And I somehow managed to accomplish my task, finally rolling to a stop at the summit just after 9pm, having completed 330km and 9,116m of vertical elevation.
The most popular question I've been asked over the past few days is the obvious one, "why?" Well, the quick answer is of course "why not?"
But I guess you could say it started back in August 2011 when on the holiday marking Singapore National Day, my good friend John "Legend" McCann and I set out to do 50 Fabers. Singapore is a small and fairly flat island and so to do any meaningful climbing entails lots of repeats of the few hills we have. Mt Faber is probably the most popular climb but it's certainly no mountain, standing as it does at just 105m. Two roads go up it and they converge just before the summit, with the col du Faber, to borrow a classic cycling term from the French, at an elevation of 99m.
There had been an organized group session to do the 50 Fabers earlier that year which we'd missed out on but once we'd heard about it after the fact, I guess the idea of emulating the two or three people who had achieved the crazy feat was engrained in our brains.
Legend and I appealed to a few of our mates from our Mavericks cycling team but in the end there were just the two of us that day and we knocked out the required 50, plus one more to enjoy a beer at the hill-top restaurant, in some 10 hours including breaks.
I enjoyed that day immensely and wasn't "bored to death" as some had suggested I would be, but I certainly never thought I'd do it again.
Indeed, when in July 2013 the Legend opened up the possibility of doing 100 Fabers I completely dismissed the idea. But then in May this year another one of the Mavericks, David "Waxo" Wilkins, discovered the whole "Everesting" concept and he jokingly challenged me to do it for the team.
I immediately got onto McCann and asked him what he thought. He loved the idea, however, he's not been riding as much as he used to so politely declined. But since that first communication he's been on board as chief logistics officer.
I set a date to attempt the Everesting a few times over the next couple of months but one or two injuries, a crash and just normal life getting in the way scuppered those plans and in hindsight that was lucky. I'd initially planned to tell no-one but McCann about the attempt as figured I might fail and so didn't need the added extra pressure from my friends and peers. But then the stars aligned nicely for July 19 to be the date of climbing destiny. The 2014 edition of the annual Rapha Rising Challenge on Strava, which dares people to ride 8,800m in a week, was due to start on that day. I've completed the task the past two years, once in Singapore and once in the French Alps while following the Tour. As its goal was only 48m lower than an Everesting, it became obvious that combining the two was the only way to go. Additionally, the fact that Rapha Rising started on a Saturday was convenient as it would allow me to knock the whole thing off and have Sunday to recover.
I also inadvertently let slip my plan to another of the Mavs, Bastian //r Dohling, and my young East German pal persuaded me to tell the whole team my "secret" so they'd be able to provide support. I am so grateful for Basti for that suggestion and the fact that I had the sense to follow it.
And so I arrived at the 7-Eleven at the foot of the hill at around 12:45am on July 19 and started my crazy adventure. I'd chosen the Pender Road side, the easier of the two roads up. The climb is 1.7km long with an average gradient of 5 percent. It comes in two distinct parts, with the first 700m a steady 7 percent before it flattens out for some 200m at 1-2 percent. It then kicks up again via a series of steep little steps to the top. The descent, half of which is on a way-way road, is about 1.3km long, giving a 3km loop and some 81m of elevation according to the Faber 7-11 Lap segment on Strava – http://www.strava.com/activities/167959207/segments/3907763599
The first lap was surreal. Heading up the hill into the darkness knowing that I'd be repeating the process continuously until at least 7pm was a bit of a mind f#*k. Especially as I was really tired. I'd been out the night before for farewell drinks in honour of a departing Mav and the effects of a slight hangover were still lingering. I'd unsuccessfully tried to grab a quick nap on a few occasions throughout the day, and then after watching Nibali decimate his rivals on the Tour, I sent myself to bed at 11:30pm hoping to get an hour or two of sleep (or even just rest) before starting. But the sleep wouldn't come, my mind was just too wired at the enormity of what lay ahead, so I gave up on that idea at midnight and started the final preparations.
And so I arrived at the 7-Eleven at the foot of the hill at around 12:45am on July 19 and started my crazy adventure. I'd chosen the Pender Road side, the easier of the two roads up. The climb is 1.7km long with an average gradient of 5 percent. It comes in two distinct parts, with the first 700m a steady 7 percent before it flattens out for some 200m at 1-2 percent. It then kicks up again via a series of steep little steps to the top. The descent, half of which is on a way-way road, is about 1.3km long, giving a 3km loop and some 81m of elevation according to the Faber 7-11 Lap segment on Strava – http://www.strava.com/activities/167959207/segments/3907763599
The first lap was surreal. Heading up the hill into the darkness knowing that I'd be repeating the process continuously until at least 7pm was a bit of a mind f#*k. Especially as I was really tired. I'd been out the night before for farewell drinks in honour of a departing Mav and the effects of a slight hangover were still lingering. I'd unsuccessfully tried to grab a quick nap on a few occasions throughout the day, and then after watching Nibali decimate his rivals on the Tour, I sent myself to bed at 11:30pm hoping to get an hour or two of sleep (or even just rest) before starting. But the sleep wouldn't come, my mind was just too wired at the enormity of what lay ahead, so I gave up on that idea at midnight and started the final preparations.
I felt both physically and mentally exhausted on that first ascent, and was filled with self doubt because of the extreme fatigue. Luckily, though, that was more or less the low point of the whole ride. Indeed, I was pulled from my solitary self pity before I even reached the top for the first time when I realised that Mt Faber Park was quite a busy little place in the wee hours of a Friday night. Parked cars belonging to couples out on romantic rendezvouz lined the upper slopes and at the summit itself, the restaurant/bar was packed. Knowing I wasn't alone definitely boosted my spirits and it wasn't long before I was getting a kick out of people's faces when every 9 minutes or so they saw this strange figure on a bike appear again.
That 9 minutes was a bit of a problem. My pre-ride calculations had figured on 10-minute loops for the whole ride, but that calculation included breaks. Going on past experience I had hoped to be averaging 8 minutes for the first few hours meaning I'd be banking quite a chunk of time that would allow me to finish the adventure around 7pm, ie, just before night came around again.
But after an hour of 9-minute loops, I had to reappraise the situation and come up with a new estimated finish time of 9pm. I knew there was no point in letting this revision get me down so I focussed on another number, 13, which was the amount of laps I'd set before I was scheduled to take my first break. A man has to eat and drink when taking on such a mammoth ride and my plan was to break the ride down into alternate sets of 13 and 12.
Some three laps before that first break as I rounded the sweeping corner near the end of the descent, I saw the unmistakable figure of a cyclist astride a bike waiting at the bottom of the hill. I wasn't expecting any visitors until around 5am so who the hell would be mad enough to be out here at 2:30am? Another Rapha Riser perhaps? But no, it was of course my man McCann. What a mate. Not only was he there to accompany me for a few laps, he had on his back a haul of photographic equipment to record the adventure for posterity.
After three more laps we stopped for drinks at the 7-Eleven. I bought a 1.5 litre bottle of water, the same of 100+ and a 500ml Coke, which seemed like the best fizzy drink I'd ever had. I got the bemused permission of the store clerk to leave my half-drunk bottles in the freezer outside and then we were off again with just six minutes of precious time wasted. John was no longer going to be my ride partner, instead he spent the next three hours setting up his equipment at various spots around the hill. You can see the fabulous results from the photos.
That 9 minutes was a bit of a problem. My pre-ride calculations had figured on 10-minute loops for the whole ride, but that calculation included breaks. Going on past experience I had hoped to be averaging 8 minutes for the first few hours meaning I'd be banking quite a chunk of time that would allow me to finish the adventure around 7pm, ie, just before night came around again.
But after an hour of 9-minute loops, I had to reappraise the situation and come up with a new estimated finish time of 9pm. I knew there was no point in letting this revision get me down so I focussed on another number, 13, which was the amount of laps I'd set before I was scheduled to take my first break. A man has to eat and drink when taking on such a mammoth ride and my plan was to break the ride down into alternate sets of 13 and 12.
Some three laps before that first break as I rounded the sweeping corner near the end of the descent, I saw the unmistakable figure of a cyclist astride a bike waiting at the bottom of the hill. I wasn't expecting any visitors until around 5am so who the hell would be mad enough to be out here at 2:30am? Another Rapha Riser perhaps? But no, it was of course my man McCann. What a mate. Not only was he there to accompany me for a few laps, he had on his back a haul of photographic equipment to record the adventure for posterity.
After three more laps we stopped for drinks at the 7-Eleven. I bought a 1.5 litre bottle of water, the same of 100+ and a 500ml Coke, which seemed like the best fizzy drink I'd ever had. I got the bemused permission of the store clerk to leave my half-drunk bottles in the freezer outside and then we were off again with just six minutes of precious time wasted. John was no longer going to be my ride partner, instead he spent the next three hours setting up his equipment at various spots around the hill. You can see the fabulous results from the photos.
These next 12 laps were even slower than the first set, with my legs still feeling heavy, but I ploughed on and awaited the arrival of the Mavs, who had promised to start and finish their normal Saturday ride at Mt Faber. I was expecting the first of them around 5am and sure enough Mr Matt "Pony" Lodge emerged from the darkness just before that hour. I had, however, sort of been joined by another companion around 3am in the shape of a woman doing walking repeats of the lower half of the hill. She had a strange style, walking with her mouth wide open and eyes firmly shut, like one of the "zombies" from Telok Blangah Park. Each to their own I suppose and I'm sure she was wondering who the nut on the bike was. She stayed until 9am!
Not long after Pony, four more Mavs in the shape of Greg "Yeti" Barnes, Liam "Bloomers" Winston, Richard "Oldish" Paine and Nick "Pigeon" Swallow joined us on the hill. Having my mates along made the laps seem to fly by and before I knew it was time for break #2, for which I'd allocated a whopping 15 minutes.
I was busy during that quarter of an hour, though, because as well as refilling bottles and eating, I had to check on my Garmins. Yes, I had two Garmins cycling computers with me, plus a Garmin watch on my wrist. We've all had the odd GPS failure when uploading to Strava so I wasn't leaving anything to chance.
A fully charged Garmin, even one of the better ones like the Edge 510 that was my primary unit, won't last any longer than 12 hours at best, so that presented a problem in getting the entire ride on one file. But my logistics king McCann had discovered a charging device called a Gomadic. Unlike other portable chargers, the Gomadic doesn't "save and restart" when plugged into the Garmin, a problem my Trans Malaysia Express colleagues and I had encountered back in 2012 when taking on an epic 800km ride from the Thai-Malaysian border to Singapore. The Gomadic delivered as promised and at every break I was alternating between keeping the two Garmins topped up.
On my next set, laps 26-38, the times continued to increase, not by much, but I feared the trend was ominous. However, near the end of the set, the dawn broke and this glorious daybreak brought with it a reversal in fortunes. On restarting lap 39 there was an immediate and very noticeable transformation. Gone were the leaden legs and gone were the slow laps. All of sudden I was clocking 8:30s which was a great boost to the aim of keeping the second spell of darkness hours to a minimum. The descents were obviously quicker in the daylight but I was also climbing faster too.
Of course not every lap was at 8:30, because as anybody who regularly trains on Mt Faber knows, the place becomes plagued by tour buses from around 9am and so for most of the rest of the day it's just pot luck whether or not you get an unhindered descent. It's difficult, although not impossible, to get by the coaches on the single lane that marks the first half of the descent, and so for many of the laps, I just sat up on the hoods and just went with the flow. To be honest, I sometimes welcomed this as I had trouble with the descents most of the day.
I know the correct lines having gone down that road hundreds of times over the past nine years but darkness, tiredness, ageing eyes, wobbly arms and mechanical trouble all plagued me at various stages of the day, and so having to slowly edge down acted as an occasional stress reliever. The problem with the bike was a sort of grabbing of the rear brake pads which occasionally manifested as a scary shuddering, especially just after I hit the speed bump near the bottom of the descent where it's normal to be hitting 50kph. This eventually freaked me out enough that I basically didn't use the back brake for the second half of the ride. I've since found out after a visit to one of the LBSs I frequent that my rear wheel had a loose hub, an out of true rim, some seized up spokes and a dodgy skewer, all or any of which could have been the cause of my woes. I love those wheels, 2008 silver Mavic Kysriums which I've always thought of as bomb proof, but looks like it's time to retire them.
Not long after Pony, four more Mavs in the shape of Greg "Yeti" Barnes, Liam "Bloomers" Winston, Richard "Oldish" Paine and Nick "Pigeon" Swallow joined us on the hill. Having my mates along made the laps seem to fly by and before I knew it was time for break #2, for which I'd allocated a whopping 15 minutes.
I was busy during that quarter of an hour, though, because as well as refilling bottles and eating, I had to check on my Garmins. Yes, I had two Garmins cycling computers with me, plus a Garmin watch on my wrist. We've all had the odd GPS failure when uploading to Strava so I wasn't leaving anything to chance.
A fully charged Garmin, even one of the better ones like the Edge 510 that was my primary unit, won't last any longer than 12 hours at best, so that presented a problem in getting the entire ride on one file. But my logistics king McCann had discovered a charging device called a Gomadic. Unlike other portable chargers, the Gomadic doesn't "save and restart" when plugged into the Garmin, a problem my Trans Malaysia Express colleagues and I had encountered back in 2012 when taking on an epic 800km ride from the Thai-Malaysian border to Singapore. The Gomadic delivered as promised and at every break I was alternating between keeping the two Garmins topped up.
On my next set, laps 26-38, the times continued to increase, not by much, but I feared the trend was ominous. However, near the end of the set, the dawn broke and this glorious daybreak brought with it a reversal in fortunes. On restarting lap 39 there was an immediate and very noticeable transformation. Gone were the leaden legs and gone were the slow laps. All of sudden I was clocking 8:30s which was a great boost to the aim of keeping the second spell of darkness hours to a minimum. The descents were obviously quicker in the daylight but I was also climbing faster too.
Of course not every lap was at 8:30, because as anybody who regularly trains on Mt Faber knows, the place becomes plagued by tour buses from around 9am and so for most of the rest of the day it's just pot luck whether or not you get an unhindered descent. It's difficult, although not impossible, to get by the coaches on the single lane that marks the first half of the descent, and so for many of the laps, I just sat up on the hoods and just went with the flow. To be honest, I sometimes welcomed this as I had trouble with the descents most of the day.
I know the correct lines having gone down that road hundreds of times over the past nine years but darkness, tiredness, ageing eyes, wobbly arms and mechanical trouble all plagued me at various stages of the day, and so having to slowly edge down acted as an occasional stress reliever. The problem with the bike was a sort of grabbing of the rear brake pads which occasionally manifested as a scary shuddering, especially just after I hit the speed bump near the bottom of the descent where it's normal to be hitting 50kph. This eventually freaked me out enough that I basically didn't use the back brake for the second half of the ride. I've since found out after a visit to one of the LBSs I frequent that my rear wheel had a loose hub, an out of true rim, some seized up spokes and a dodgy skewer, all or any of which could have been the cause of my woes. I love those wheels, 2008 silver Mavic Kysriums which I've always thought of as bomb proof, but looks like it's time to retire them.
Incidentally, my bike for the day was my Litespeed Archon, chosen partly because my new Specialized S-Works Tarmac wasn't quite ready but also because the Archon is permanently set up for climbing in the big mountains, fitted as it is with a 50-34 compact crank. I also stuck a 30-12 cassette on the rear wheel for good measure. While climbing Faber doesn't normally require that level of gearing, I thought it might be nice to have the option of spinning when going into unknown territory late in the day. Rapha bibs (https://www.rapha.cc/gb/en/) and their famous chamois were the perfect lower half attire, and matched well with my Maverick's jersey from Champion System (www.champ-sys.com/).
Back to the chronological order of things and the morning Mavs returned from their hit-out (Geoff "the Chef" Pollard had made a cameo appearance while they were gone) to stay with me until my big breakfast break which came some time 9am when I was 50 laps in. To celebrate the milestone we hit the Indian joint round the corner from the bottom of the hill and I wolfed down two roti pratas, lashings of curry sauce and a mug of hot, strong and deliciously sweet teh tarek. It was great to have some real food as up till then I had been fuelling on bars, bars, the occasional bite of a jam sandwich and more bars. In terms of "endurance specific" products, over the course of the ride I consumed one Cliff Bar, one Lara Bar, one Bonk Breaker, two Protien Flapjacks, one salty peanut Sponsor bar, one Boom bar, two tubes of Cliff Shots, two packets of Sqwinchers, three gels and half a tube of Nuuns. Then there were six Cokes, at least as many cans of Aquarius, four teh tareks, a packet of cashews, a packet of crisps and a Mars Bar. And of course litres and litres of water. To satisfy my ever-increasing thirst, I decided at breakfast to jiggle my break plan, opting for a stop every 10 laps from then on. This had the added benefit of providing a nice round number to aim at to complete each set.
Post-breakfast I only had two more laps to go to break my previous record of 51 so those first two felt easy. Indeed 50 felt relatively easy compared to the last time. I reckon that's down to the power of the mind and how we control it. On that first occasion when Legend and I completed 51 Fabers, the number seemed so absurdly large, but now that I'd given myself a much larger, even more absurd goal, climbing 50 just didn't seem like such a Herculean task anymore.
While the move to 10-lap sets (roughly 1 hour, 45 minute sessions) undoubtedly made it easier, the biggest helping factor of the day was the almost ever-present attendance of at least one Mav. I'd like to think I'd still have been able to do it on my own, but having a mate to talk surely was the key that saved me from going mad, as some of the post-ride comments have suggested I must have done.
Liam hung around for a while after breakfast then Bastian and the super dooper Trudy turned up for some laps, the former just a week after surgery to mend a broken collar bone. Silly boy. That 50-60 set flew by and before I knew it we were back at the Indian cafe. Just then Walnut appeared and sat down ready for an early lunch after a hard morning with Robocop; it was 11am.
Back to the chronological order of things and the morning Mavs returned from their hit-out (Geoff "the Chef" Pollard had made a cameo appearance while they were gone) to stay with me until my big breakfast break which came some time 9am when I was 50 laps in. To celebrate the milestone we hit the Indian joint round the corner from the bottom of the hill and I wolfed down two roti pratas, lashings of curry sauce and a mug of hot, strong and deliciously sweet teh tarek. It was great to have some real food as up till then I had been fuelling on bars, bars, the occasional bite of a jam sandwich and more bars. In terms of "endurance specific" products, over the course of the ride I consumed one Cliff Bar, one Lara Bar, one Bonk Breaker, two Protien Flapjacks, one salty peanut Sponsor bar, one Boom bar, two tubes of Cliff Shots, two packets of Sqwinchers, three gels and half a tube of Nuuns. Then there were six Cokes, at least as many cans of Aquarius, four teh tareks, a packet of cashews, a packet of crisps and a Mars Bar. And of course litres and litres of water. To satisfy my ever-increasing thirst, I decided at breakfast to jiggle my break plan, opting for a stop every 10 laps from then on. This had the added benefit of providing a nice round number to aim at to complete each set.
Post-breakfast I only had two more laps to go to break my previous record of 51 so those first two felt easy. Indeed 50 felt relatively easy compared to the last time. I reckon that's down to the power of the mind and how we control it. On that first occasion when Legend and I completed 51 Fabers, the number seemed so absurdly large, but now that I'd given myself a much larger, even more absurd goal, climbing 50 just didn't seem like such a Herculean task anymore.
While the move to 10-lap sets (roughly 1 hour, 45 minute sessions) undoubtedly made it easier, the biggest helping factor of the day was the almost ever-present attendance of at least one Mav. I'd like to think I'd still have been able to do it on my own, but having a mate to talk surely was the key that saved me from going mad, as some of the post-ride comments have suggested I must have done.
Liam hung around for a while after breakfast then Bastian and the super dooper Trudy turned up for some laps, the former just a week after surgery to mend a broken collar bone. Silly boy. That 50-60 set flew by and before I knew it we were back at the Indian cafe. Just then Walnut appeared and sat down ready for an early lunch after a hard morning with Robocop; it was 11am.
"Sorry mate, this is just a drinks stop, 10 more to go before curry and rice," I informed him. Walnut duly joined us and the four of us were halfway through this stint for the 60-70 laps set when an unwelcome visitor showed up, the rain. I got off lightly with the weather to be honest as from the top of the hill we could see dark clouds dumping out their loads all around us, yet all we got was a light sprinkling. However, the roads were now slippery adding to the constant danger of coping with the tour buses. But Walnut was the perfect partner, slowing right down and picking the prefect lines. The curry lunch was superb.
The hill was a lot quieter when we restarted on lap 71. Gone were the tour buses, which transport their passengers en masse between noon and 2pm for lunch, and gone too were the hundreds of cyclists who had been on Faber that morning. Cycling has exploded in Singapore in the nine years I've lived here, and it seemed as if half of the community were on the hill that day. Many were there for the Rapha Rising Challenge, but other groups and individuals were just there for there for their regular Saturday morning rides. I knew quite a few of my fellow climbers so it was nice to be able to have a quick chat or simply a nod in passing. I also made a few new friends, especially once word (slightly erroneously) got out that somebody was attempting 100 laps.
But by 1pm I had the place to myself again, except of course for my trusty escorts. Taking over from Walnut was Waxo, who had also turned up to the support the previous "51 Fabers" session. Waxo put in 10+ laps and just as he was due to leave to attend family duties, Ali "Borat" Cullen finished his parental tasks and appeared for his 10 laps of duty. Borat was with me at the break after 80 laps and it was upon that restart that my legs finally had turned into real lead. I had been amazingly consistent with my climbing for the past 50 laps, but I guess it was inevitable that I would fade eventually. The laps got consistently slower and by the end of the set I was nudging 10 minutes again. I didn't let it get me down mentally, though. No way, I was past the three-quarters mark and surely nothing could stop me now.
The hill was a lot quieter when we restarted on lap 71. Gone were the tour buses, which transport their passengers en masse between noon and 2pm for lunch, and gone too were the hundreds of cyclists who had been on Faber that morning. Cycling has exploded in Singapore in the nine years I've lived here, and it seemed as if half of the community were on the hill that day. Many were there for the Rapha Rising Challenge, but other groups and individuals were just there for there for their regular Saturday morning rides. I knew quite a few of my fellow climbers so it was nice to be able to have a quick chat or simply a nod in passing. I also made a few new friends, especially once word (slightly erroneously) got out that somebody was attempting 100 laps.
But by 1pm I had the place to myself again, except of course for my trusty escorts. Taking over from Walnut was Waxo, who had also turned up to the support the previous "51 Fabers" session. Waxo put in 10+ laps and just as he was due to leave to attend family duties, Ali "Borat" Cullen finished his parental tasks and appeared for his 10 laps of duty. Borat was with me at the break after 80 laps and it was upon that restart that my legs finally had turned into real lead. I had been amazingly consistent with my climbing for the past 50 laps, but I guess it was inevitable that I would fade eventually. The laps got consistently slower and by the end of the set I was nudging 10 minutes again. I didn't let it get me down mentally, though. No way, I was past the three-quarters mark and surely nothing could stop me now.
There was no chance of my spirits getting down anyway, as turning up at lap 82 was the ever-smiling, ever-talking Fiddler! Adriano Niro, to give him his proper name, was my biggest hero of the day, as after initially planning to ride for an hour or so, ended up staying with me right until the end. What a man, what a friend. I think the most laps of Faber he'd ever put together before was four or five, so to do 29 was an amazing feat in itself.
I think it was around 6pm when my man McCann made his second appearance of the day, this time on a Vespa! Not satisfied with the superb results of the morning session, he set up his equipment all around the hill again, and even resorted to hiding in bushes to get the perfect shot.
Bloomers had promised to return too and he was as good as his word, spinning onto the course just as the light was fading and just before I hit the magical 100 laps. What a feeling that was. My legs had miraculously recovered from their malaise of the previous set, or perhaps it was a case of my mind, buoyant at being so close to the goal, taking over again. To celebrate the ton, we hit the no-name Indian joint again, where I had one more teh tarek, accompanied this time with a deep-fried puri, on which was dumped a big delicious lump of potato masala and dahl.
A check on the Garmin revealed I was past the 8,200m mark and there was talk among my supporters of only needing eight more laps to hit my goal, but my target was 111 laps. Garmins are known to be temperamental at times, throwing up different figures when downloaded than what was previously displayed on screen. So it would be the 111 laps.
It was past 7pm and dark when we restarted for the last time, and so the revised 9pm finishing time looked spot on. These last two hours were a mixture of emotions. I was really enjoying the ascents, but the darkness made the descents really difficult, even harder than during the long post-midnight hours. My upper body was extremely fatigued and this coupled with failing eyes made it extremely difficult to concentrate. I'll admit now the fear of crashing was ever-present on those final 10 descents, so I just pulled even harder on the single brake that I trusted. While the final descents were tough, the climbs were invigorating, making it a real roller-coaster session. Helping making those climbs so joyous was the fact that Basti and Trudy were back again for the finale. Sans their bikes this time, the cute cheerleading couple in the little green car provided much mirth and merriment, singing and dancing at various points on the route.
I think it was around 6pm when my man McCann made his second appearance of the day, this time on a Vespa! Not satisfied with the superb results of the morning session, he set up his equipment all around the hill again, and even resorted to hiding in bushes to get the perfect shot.
Bloomers had promised to return too and he was as good as his word, spinning onto the course just as the light was fading and just before I hit the magical 100 laps. What a feeling that was. My legs had miraculously recovered from their malaise of the previous set, or perhaps it was a case of my mind, buoyant at being so close to the goal, taking over again. To celebrate the ton, we hit the no-name Indian joint again, where I had one more teh tarek, accompanied this time with a deep-fried puri, on which was dumped a big delicious lump of potato masala and dahl.
A check on the Garmin revealed I was past the 8,200m mark and there was talk among my supporters of only needing eight more laps to hit my goal, but my target was 111 laps. Garmins are known to be temperamental at times, throwing up different figures when downloaded than what was previously displayed on screen. So it would be the 111 laps.
It was past 7pm and dark when we restarted for the last time, and so the revised 9pm finishing time looked spot on. These last two hours were a mixture of emotions. I was really enjoying the ascents, but the darkness made the descents really difficult, even harder than during the long post-midnight hours. My upper body was extremely fatigued and this coupled with failing eyes made it extremely difficult to concentrate. I'll admit now the fear of crashing was ever-present on those final 10 descents, so I just pulled even harder on the single brake that I trusted. While the final descents were tough, the climbs were invigorating, making it a real roller-coaster session. Helping making those climbs so joyous was the fact that Basti and Trudy were back again for the finale. Sans their bikes this time, the cute cheerleading couple in the little green car provided much mirth and merriment, singing and dancing at various points on the route.
Legend too arrived for a third time on lap 108 having had said farewell an hour previously. He'd only gone home to collect his family and set up a table in the restaurant for some post-ride celebrations. The last lap was fantastic. What a feeling as I rounded each bend, growing ever-closer to the end. I climbed off my bike at the top of the hill at 9:10pm having ridden up the thing 111 times. There was no need to go down again. The Garmin displayed 9,116m of climbing, more than enough to meet both Everest and Rapha Rising goals. Nearly 21 hours had passed since I left home, and I'd ridden 330km. What a day. http://app.strava.com/activities/167959207
Sitting there over-looking a lit-up Singapore having achieved my crazy goal was very satisfying. The cold beer tasted as good as that first Coke of the morning. But after basking in the glory for a short while, it was time to go home. The last of the adrenaline had drained from my body and tiredness swept over me. Luckily I didn't need to ride the 8km to home, Basti and Trudy providing one final service by squeezing me and my bike into their car.
At home, a few more beers, a long soothing shower and loads of good food were the perfect way to end an epic day as I answered questions from my excited family. One final task was required before collapsing into bed, that of downloading the data. It wouldn't have been the end of the world if a failure had occurred, I mean I know it I did it, and just a few short years ago there was no Strava. But luckily it downloaded perfectly and I'd joined the Everesting Hall of Fame. How cool is that?
And while I doubt I'll ever ride Mt Faber 100 times again, looking at that Everesting website revealed that some people have "conquered" more than one peak, so maybe, just maybe, I'll put my ultra climbing shoes on again one day.
Sitting there over-looking a lit-up Singapore having achieved my crazy goal was very satisfying. The cold beer tasted as good as that first Coke of the morning. But after basking in the glory for a short while, it was time to go home. The last of the adrenaline had drained from my body and tiredness swept over me. Luckily I didn't need to ride the 8km to home, Basti and Trudy providing one final service by squeezing me and my bike into their car.
At home, a few more beers, a long soothing shower and loads of good food were the perfect way to end an epic day as I answered questions from my excited family. One final task was required before collapsing into bed, that of downloading the data. It wouldn't have been the end of the world if a failure had occurred, I mean I know it I did it, and just a few short years ago there was no Strava. But luckily it downloaded perfectly and I'd joined the Everesting Hall of Fame. How cool is that?
And while I doubt I'll ever ride Mt Faber 100 times again, looking at that Everesting website revealed that some people have "conquered" more than one peak, so maybe, just maybe, I'll put my ultra climbing shoes on again one day.
Some more photos from the lenses of John McCann. Click on the thumbnails to see the full images.
