The Knysna Forest Half Marathon OR A Day of Low Rats

Wilderness National Park, looking West

Our cottage. 

The maintenance staff religiously flattened the molehills 

every morning and a few hours later they were back.

The serene and beautiful Touw River

Yellow-wood tree on the banks of the Touw

Flowering aloes in abundance everywhere

Fork tailed drongo in tree

The Knysna Forest Half Marathon OR A Day of Low Rats

I’ll explain the Low Rats later. This race has a reputation – quite a few friends have told me “You’ve gotta run the Knysna Forest – what a beautiful race.” So last year I entered and paid, but never got here – it is 5 hours drive from Cape Town and I was travelling right up until the day before.  I swore at the time I’d get it right this year and I did.

The race forms part of the Knysna Oyster Festival which is a week long (? 2 weeks) string of sales, promotions, competitions, family activities, sports – what do I know? – the focus seems to be on these mucoid masses that come in rather ugly shells, cost R10 a pop, taste like nothing (except lemon juice and Tabasco sauce), have to be drunk with a glass of Graca and for some unfathomable reason are very popular. Not with us, in case you couldn’t tell.

Wednesday

The rest of the family was on vacation or leave so we decided to make it a family thing. I booked a family cottage at the Ebb and Flow Camp of the Wilderness National Park. We left Cape Town at 10 a.m. and took a fairly leisurely drive along the N2, stopping at Riviersonderend for a coffee and Steer Burger – Wacky Wednesday, 2-for-the-price-of-1. We picked up a Kia Picanto at the George Airport for the business part of the trip and I was pleasantly surprised by the little car – OK, no power steering and no AC but everything else was fine.

I picked up a guy at the airport who needed a lift to Thembalethu – he was wearing a reflective jacket which I assumed meant he worked on the runway. It also reassured me that he was probably well intentioned. Of course the conversation fell to football. He didn’t have much good to say about our national team – said they had lost because they were more concerned about money than about representing their country. He may be right – I wouldn't know. Point is they have been kicked out. The French, Danish and Japanese teams had been staying in Knysna until their respective exits from the Tournament and he had seen something of all of them. He spoke about the unifying effect that the World Cup had had on South Africans – “gees”, “Ayoba”, “Se Nako”  – we have all learnt some new words, most of them not English. I told him I had heard the national rugby coach sulking, “I am sick of soccer. I don’t even know who is in the semi-finals!” and I predicted the demise of rugby as the national sport of white South Africans. Sorry, mnr. de Villiers, but football has done something that rugby never did – we have been bitten by the bug, and we’re not going back to braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies and Chevrolet – well, not the rugby anyway. Take your place in the queue, and it isn’t at the front.

The Ebb and Flow cottages are in the flood plain of the Touw River. Actually I’m not sure whether it is a lagoon or a river since it doesn’t seem to flow. Maybe it flows in the wet season and Wilderness is in the middle of a really bad drought. The cottage had everything we wanted except that 3 nights in a row we couldn’t get a fire going in the fireplace, despite buying firewood and firelighters from Pick ‘n Pay and spending what seemed like hours coaxing and blowing and cajoling. I think it was the wood. The last time this happened was a Christmas braai at my in-laws, to which they had invited about 20 people – I simply couldn’t get it going and in the end we had to cook it in the oven under the grill. Most embarrassing.

Our first night there was also the occasion of the second World Cup semi-final – Germany versus Spain. This was a huge game in anyone’s book, but especially for us since herself has some serious German roots. Also, we both really enjoy the German team, which seems young and enthusiastic and has played some really attractive football during the tournament. Sadly it wasn’t to be – they just didn’t spark on the night and although they didn’t play badly, Spain played better, including a brilliant header which got them their one goal. So Germany were eliminated. We shall be reduced to supporting Holland, with South Africa, Ghana and now Germany gone.

Thursday and Friday

We did a few walks in the Park - up the Touw River. Herself and I stayed in one of the rondawels there when she was pregnant with Princess Firstborn and it brought back some good memories. Of course that was in January, hot and steamy and mosquito infested - very different from frosty July. There were dassies on the cliffs, a few waterbirds on the river, a fork tailed drongo flitting in and out of the trees. The aloes were all in bloom, quite glorious.

Saturday

I was originally going to sleep over in Knysna the night before the race and had booked myself a room at the Montessori hostel for the purpose. When I registered for the race on the Friday  afternoon, however, the race inquiries guy told me that it only takes 35 minutes to drive through from Wilderness and that if I left by 5 a.m. I would have ample time to make the 6 a.m. deadline. In fact the real deadline was 7.15 but they were advising people to arrive early. So I cancelled the school hostel – sounded rather Spartan anyway. Somehow, we managed to get the princesses up at 4.30 to leave at 5 a.m. It was still dark when we got to Knysna. We found a parking space right next to the Finishing marquis. I left the family and walked the 2.4km to the start at Loerie Park – normally it would be a scary walk in the dark, but there were lots of runners doing it and I just followed the crowds down the running path along the lagoon shore into George Rex Avenue and along to Loerie Park where we joined a 4-abreast queue which seemed to be about a kilometer long but probably wasn’t. The front part of it was disappearing periodically into buses and minibus taxis. I was hoping to get onto a bus but it wasn’t to be – I found myself on a minibus. Next thing we were off. The first km was fine because it was uphill and the taxi being full, old and underpowered couldn't go very fast. The turn across the traffic onto the N2 was touch and go but we made it. More uphill and then left to Nekkies up the R339. That’s when it got really scary because the road undulated and the driver gunned it on the downhills like his life depended on it. Somehow we got there in one piece.

We disembarked onto a tar road in a pine plantation and walked along a well lit path for some 500m to the gathering point for the half marathon at a place called “Glebe” (really?). The full marathon runners had already left at 7. There was an extremely long queue for the loo’s – made up virtually entirely of women. Enough said. We men had all gone in the forest. We had about 45 minutes to wait while the buses and taxi’s rolled in with the rest of the 6000 athletes. Some young men and youths were congregating just off the road, in the plantation – clearly not runners and I had trouble at first working out who they were. Several had large black plastic bags. The race marshals came and shouted at them once or twice, but did not chase them away – seemed to be OK as long as they kept their distance. So it turns out that there is a tradition attached to this race – given that the start is often in cold and misty conditions, runners come with an extra layer which may be an old sweater or T shirt or blanket and when the race starts they leave it with these “Forest people”. Nice thought. Unfortunately all I had was the Pick ‘n Pay plastic apron so that is what they got. The fellow with the microphone made a lot of light conversation but he did warn us that because of the change of finish venue, they had had to put in a 3km loop in the forest and that “it has a few uphills so don’t use up all your energy at the start!” We should have listened better.

We started running at 8 a.m. sharp. The first 2 km were a steady climb uphill which, though unwelcome, did result in the field spreading out and there was never really a problem with space, the way there is in the 2 Oceans HM. Then we turned right onto a dirt track, a plantation road, and we undulated our way along it for about 5 or 6 km. I found the lack of distance markers a bit frustrating as I was hoping for a good time on this ostensibly downhill and fast run and I couldn’t gauge my pace properly. But apart from that it was a lovely run. There was a fair bit of up and down, especially down, but nothing to stress the muscles too badly. We passed two water points. I had a headache and wondered whether I might be dehydrated so quaffed a few cups of Coke or Pepsi, I forget which it was, and took water sachets whenever I could. Around about the 8km mark, we were directed to the right down a subsidiary road. The downhill led us to an opening – we overlooked a very steep decline, at the bottom of which we could see the line of runners snaking along and, worse, snaking up the other side. An Afrikaans lady next to me voiced some concern to her friend about the coming "oppie". According to the official documents we dropped about 100m in the space of around 3km, and then climbed out again in about 2km, which brought up the 14km or 2/3 marker. In all the half marathons I have run (7 now) I have never walked, but this time I walked. I walked because the steepness of the hill reduced me to a pace where the walkers next to me were keeping up with me, even overtaking me. I walked because my pulse rate was hitting 170. Walked 30 paces, ran 20, until I got to the top. It was sheer purgatory.

The next 3km were mostly downhill. Again, we descended about 100m in 3km. Pleasant running,  There were some real characters on the run who kept everyone’s spirits up with their commentary and chit-chat. One fellow from PE said on a particularly nasty uphill “Gee I really miss the X5”. There were four guys in orange shirts and wigs, carrying a Dutch flag, another fellow draped in a Spanish flag and a young lady with pink bunny ears, pick tutu and pink socks. Well, it takes all types. Runners are a fun lot.

Then we got to a very larney, up market golf estate – I forget the name and it isn’t on the route map but suffice to say I couldn’t have afforded one of the garden fences, let alone one of the houses. OK, fine, I am not here to criticize the opulence of super rich South Africans – leave that for another blog. But I will say that the road down the mountain from their airy estate was one of the steepest descents I have ever had to run. We went from just under 200m to sea level in under 2km – by my calculations that is a gradient of 200m/2000m or 1:10, which may not sound bad, but that was the average and there were stretches where it was as much as we could do to stop our feet running away with us. I could feel my toes crunching into the front of my running shoes, could envisage the blood blisters forming, could hear my quads complaining with every step, my knee joint surfaces slamming into each other. I was going to have to pay for this, I knew.

Which is where the “low rats” come in. Running along the forest roads reminded me of a road sign one often sees on mountain passes in South Africa – heavy vehicles engage low gear, which in Afrikaans is a “lae rat”. So here’s the thing: low rats are needed when you go uphill (to give you more torque) and when you go downhill (to stop the vehicle running away). When you have a course which is all up and down, you spend most of the time in low rat. Hence, a predominantly downhill course like this is not necessarily a fast course.

After what seemed like an eternity we got to the bottom of the pass and the N2. They took us under the main road on a boardwalk which appeared to have been built specially for the purpose, and then along the newly bricked sidewalk along the N2. An elderly bystander encouraged us: “Well done, only 2km to go”. My legs felt like lead. Try as I might I just couldn’t find the energy to pick up the pace and get in under 2.15. Runners passed me in droves – where they found their energy I have no idea. I just knew that all I had in me was to keep going at around 9 km/h to the finish line. So in the end it was a 2.20, my worst time this year.  Herself and the princesses were near the finish line waiting for me, full of encouragement and congratulations. I picked up my medal and complementary cold-drink and we made our way down to the Knysna waterfront for a bit of R and R – starting with a large latte and followed up some time later by a “monster pizza” from Pannarotti’s, washed down with a glass of some rather sharp but basically OK red house wine. Which also gave me a good excuse  not to drive back to Wilderness – actually I wasn’t sure I’d be able to bend my legs, but the wine finalized it.

Back at the cottage I soaked luxuriantly in a hot tub foamed up with the herbal stuff that came in my goody bag. Heavenly, except for the fact that it burnt my chafed nipples like fire, but that is probably too much information entirely. I then lay on the couch and fell asleep while the princesses watched “High School Musical 2” for about the hundredth time. The sky had become overcast and soon the rain was pouring down. The temperature had dropped a good few degrees. Unwilling to try yet another unsuccessful fire, I turned on the electric heather and cranked it up to full, put on a few extra layers of clothes, fetched a blanket and drifted off again. Tonight is the 3^rd-4^th place playoff between Germany and Uruguay which we’ll watch. Tomorrow is the final but we’ll be back in Cape Town.

Sunday

Well, the rain continued through the night, and at times it was really heavy. The playoff game in Port Elizabeth was a cracker, with Germany emerging victorious by 3 goals to 2, but it was played in heavy rain at times which made things interesting, but presumably really difficult for the players. By dawn this morning it was still bucketing down and I began to worry that we wouldn’t make it out before the rivers flooded and the roads closed, but we were OK, trundling up the Kaaiman’s River Pass without too much hassle. As we drove west the cloud lifted and the rain lessened, until by Swellendam the sun was out and we were treated to some stunning views of the snow capped Langeberg to the North.

All in all an interesting race. Will I do it again next year? Not sure my knees will take it, but I’ll think about it.  I like Knysna. I like Wilderness and this whole stretch of coastline with its vleis and lagoons and rivers and beaches.  Part of me wants to move here, but that isn’t unusual in my travels. It does seem that there is a different rhythm to life here. Something to think about ….

And tomorrow back to the rat race. The low rat race.