Photo: Nick Lambert

What does it feel like to race in a New Zealand peloton full of hard Kiwi blokes who seem like they are filled with extra testosterone and frothing at the bit, only to leave you for dead on the side of the road for a stray dog to feed on?

It’s actually quite painful and the reality of New Zealand road racing is just that, filtering down through all grades. Everyone is out for themselves to see who is the last man standing. After racing in Asia for many years, coming back to New Zealand was somewhat of a shellshock with all of this aggro-style racing; there is no peloton here. No-one is content to let a bunch roll, casually sitting on 150w eating a banana and shooting the breeze with the guy next to you. No, they want to put you into the hurt box right away, so there is a constant surge at the front with many trying to break the elastic and make grown-men whimper in despair as they lose the wheel in front of them. Everyone is a wolf here, there is no flock of sheep happy to graze and perhaps make a friendly nudge near the end with a bunch gallop to determine the winner. The aggression, the profanities, all are there right from the gun. Fortunately for me, I just don’t hear these profanities and blissfully focus on pedaling and hopefully survive the onslaught.

In most of the events I’ve entered since returning from living in China for six years, I’ve been unable to finish in the front group. Always dropped and left teetering on the side of the road, perhaps I could invoke the excuses of lack of training and change of priorities in life with the advent of my newborn son Ethan. But there are plenty who also have babies and are still killing it on the road, so that rules out that excuse. I’ve just got to get back on the bike and #HTFU, Rule 5 it.

A particular race that I’ve always wanted to do is the Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge. I had entered the 2016 edition to ride with Mike Pryde (with whom I’ve raced and ridden throughout Asia) but I came into it under-prepared with only a couple of hours weekly training in the lead-up. For this reason, I ‘downgraded’ myself to the 1C group, the third wave to hit the road, thinking that a sub 4hr 30m time would be a realistic goal. Had I been properly fit––like I was at the Tour of Sailimu Lake race in China back in June where I was part of the team to help Callum Gordon win the overall classification––I would have entered the Elite race and gone well under four hours. But hey, life changes and my time training waned as I spent more time building my business and looking after my family.

So, I entered in 1C and found out that the whole Gordon McCauley clan was also riding in that group. Whoa, the People’s Champion and Josh Page both riding in 1C, fresh from a stellar Tour of Southland! It looked like the whole peloton was owned by GMC, there must’ve been a hundred of them all wearing the black and gold shiny outfits ready to battle it on the fields of Lake Taupo. The commanders were Gordon and Josh, and they could be heard barking orders all day. They were the kings of the pack, and rightly so. They made it look effortless. I knew that our group would achieve a fast time just because these two hard-men of Kiwi cycling were riding. They were leading their clients or clan into battle. It was interesting watching their antics, riding at the front of the bunch, drifting back and giving death-stares to anyone who would dare challenge them. If you weren’t wearing the shiny gold GMC outfits or riding at or near the front, you were told to bugger off. This is our race and our glory. Page and the People’s Champ made it look ridiculously easy while I was huffing and puffing to keep my place in the peloton on the numerous climbs on the back side of the lake skirting the Pureora Forest Park. I witnessed both of them stopping frequently to enjoy the views while taking a calm leak with all the time in the world. I don’t know how they did it and still ride back up to the front of the peloton each time. They did it at least 10 times. Why? Did they drink too much? Or maybe they wanted to show who’s boss?

Gordy leads the bunch into the pain cave. Photo: Nick Lambert

As the race progressed, there were some splits with some non-GMC riders escaping, so Gordo would ask one of his clan to chase the move down. I was about ten riders back and saw it all. Coaching was being played out on the road. The man from the deep cold south told his guy to go, but the rider stopped halfway so received an earful from the People’s Champion. He was not jumping across to the dangerous move like he was supposed to. The poor GMC-coached rider didn’t want to bury himself to peg back the move. Instead it was Gordy himself who had to bridge and reel back the guys who were up the road. He did have a few words to say to his member of the clan, with a shake of the head to emphasize his annoyance at the situation. I think the poor guy learned his lesson and will put his experience to good use should he find himself in a similar situation again!

I’d heard that the plan for the GMC clan was to keep the peloton largely intact and provide a free ride for members of the clan so they could achieve a personal best time as they were led out to the base of the final climb, about 20km from Taupo. Was the peloton intact by that time? Only twenty or so riders made it and maybe five of them were GMC riders; so much for the plan to lead them all out! The ante was upped leading into and coming out of Turangi, the pace being driven quite hard by the two legends of New Zealand cycling, clearly with motorbike legs after the Tour of Southland. It was still a large group when we hit Turangi but the pace was taken up another notch after the turn onto Highway 1 and never dipped below 50kmh. It was madness. Gaps were opening up left and right and I had to jump across to latch onto the front group. I had made it into the select group and was hanging on by the skin of my teeth as we sped along the shores of Lake Taupo. It was quite an impressive display of raw power by Gordon and Josh. Only four or five GMC riders were left on the front and they were drilling it, with the remaining 15 or so just hanging on for the roller-coaster of a ride.

The author, broken but unbowed up Hatepe Hill

Despite their plan of leading out to the final climb, only a handful of GMC riders were left; had it been executed properly? I saw McCauley in front of me, turning his biggest gear over and finishing his supreme effort on the front as we hit the climb. I thought I was going to catch up with him but couldn’t muster any more power from my cramping legs and I had to ease up. He dangled in front of me for half of the climb but then disappeared over the crest, somehow getting a second-wind as I kept going backwards. My race was over. I tried gamely to chase back on with a small group going over the top, but could not go full power to catch the group that was still tantalisingly close at 15 seconds. With 10km to go, I rolled to a complete stop on the side of the road with both legs spasming with cramp. The lack of training had finally caught up with me after 150km of solid riding. A few minutes later, a larger group rolled by, with Mike Pryde from Chapter2 giving me a wry smirk as he rolled by. He was happy to finish in front of me yet again!

I took 28 minutes to complete the last 10km and finished in 4hrs 19mins. Despite the lack of training, the cramps and the torture dished out by Gordy and Co, I was satisfied with my ride and I’d finally taken the long awaited opportunity to compete in my first Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge. Next time I’ll hopefully be better prepared and will definitely be keeping a closer eye on anyone in a black and gold jersey.