Inside the EWS with Chris Panozzo
The first few months of the year had been crazy busy.
The first few months of the year had been crazy busy. Not the good kind of busy where you’re into a groove and things are clicking, it’s the good old ‘I’ve taken on too much and now shit’s hitting the fan’ kind of busy, especially with the start of the EWS (Enduro World Series) looming.
With my full-time design engineering role mixed in with an attempt at a decent amount of training, the results have been alarm clocks set for 5am and all my brain function ceasing to exist about 7pm every night. Each morning the alarm would go off and a barrage of cursing would happen, sometimes in my mind, sometimes out loud. The previous nights’ programmed coffee pot kicking into action was the only positive note of the morning daily routine before heading out on a training session before work.
Preparation isnb’t easy, or about short cuts. Photo: Damian BreachDestination: South America for the EWS
Arriving at Albury airport at 6.30am to catch a long haul flight ended up as a strange sleep in. There wasn’t so much excitement but relief that for the next 3 weeks I was heading over to South America to learn as much as I could about racing at the Enduro World Series (EWS) level. The first lesson of the trip though had nothing to do with cycling. It seems as though all South Americans have a different unit of measurement for time. For instance, if you are hiring a car and the attendee says he will return with the keys in one minute, what he really means is one Spanish minute, which is the equivalent of anywhere between one to three hours in Australia. Cool.
I landed in Santiago, Chile, where I met up with Dave Ludenia, another Aussie who was also racing the first two rounds. We weren’t there yet and and we took another short flight south about 1.5 hours to the city of Valdivia. What I didn’t realise was that this short flight had a stopover, and after only 20 minutes we began our landing into what is best described as an empty paddock about the size of a football field.
Once we got bored looking at the local cattle on the other side of a single wire fence from the window of our 767, the crew lowered the door and a small group of Chileans wandered across from a lean-to made from roofing iron, and after a thirty minute (or fifteen Spanish seconds) delay we were on our way.
Driving in South America, for those of us who have never tried it, was something to behold. The zero f#&ks attitude of all who shared the roads was like a storybook from my childhood dreams. The route alone from the airport into the city of Valdivia had a fast gravel option or a tarmac scenic route. I’m not exactly sure where the tarmac route went though as I was driving off into the distance before Pablo could explain exactly where that was. Of course you might think that to avoid possible carnage having only just arrived in the country the best option would be to stick to the speed limits and play by the rules, but after getting passed by the first five cars who were all carrying damage to some or nearly all of the panels (including the roof), it was best we started using our trusty cruise control (the floor under the throttle pedal) to make sure we were sticking to the local speed limit.
Planes, hire cars… and ferry boats
A one and a half hour drive (at previously mentioned local speed limit) and we had arrived into the coastal fishing village of Nibela, a quiet town at the edge of the Patagonian coastline overlooking the South Pacific. It was clear that this race wasn’t going to follow the established norm, the rumoured track layout was all-new and the location was a short ferry ride across to an even further isolated town known as Corral.
It was obvious that the logistics of the first event was based around leveling the playing field for all competitors at the pointy end of the field. There are many stories of riders from different nationalities setting up camp a month prior to some of the EWS rounds with their cheese and baguettes, getting a head start on all the potential tracks that could be raced. But it was clear director Chris Ball was having none of that this weekend.
The ferry across to the event village was only a short trip, fifteen minutes or so, but it was a logistical nightmare if you were a privateer or satellite rider. Transporting all the spares, food and riding gear was a tricky situation given that over the four days of racing and practice we covered over 200km and climbed 6800m.
The first two days of practice were structured to mirror race days, with opening stage times limited so that only one practice run was possible. I ended up a little carried away on the first day as I spent too much energy in the liaison climbs and ended up with cramps in both my hamstrings, one of the many lessons I’d learn throughout the weekend.
Practice went well though, but it is tricky riding at near race pace on blind courses. You need to be going fast enough to get a sense of line choice, and to know where you need to be fresh to put in a physical effort, while at the same time not on the limit and have the ability to avert disaster should you come across something that you’re not expecting. But as my first event of the year, I just needed to take it all in and not make any rookie mistakes. (Like cramping on the first day.)
As I wasn’t a seeded rider I was starting in 90th for both days of racing, which was not the best situation but my goal was to stay smooth and gain a better position for round two the following weekend in Argentina, which by all accounts was going to be a dust bowl.
Under the gun in Corral
Stage one was good to get out of the way and into the swing of racing, I was passing a fair few riders on stage, and there were some nerves to hold back, which resulted in a bunch of baby mistakes the whole way down, nothing major though and I was up into 26th place.
But stage two was much longer and after the nerves of stage one had dissipated I was feeling much more relaxed. The stage was made up of flat awkward turns up high, sprint in the middle, and steep technical turns down the bottom. I was on a good run coming into the last few tight hairpins on the exposed steep section when I caught up with an Aussie compatriot, Tim. With the dust hanging very thick in the air I was committing to the turn without being able to sight very much of it, as I tipped it in, I realised the crowd had been yelling “inside”. Too late, I was going outside and seeing Tim sprawled out on the ground I didn’t have much other choice than to join him with a dirt nap of my own. Once I had freed myself from bunting around my seat post by thrusting forwards and backwards to the delight of the crowd I was on my way again, only to have to wait at the final hairpin while another rider took a dirt nap of his own.
With tight transitions between stages it was a case of having a quick drink and setting off climbing again straight away, which is something I really enjoy about this format. You can make a mistake but there is still plenty more to race for over the whole weekend. After the troubles from stage two I was keen to put in a smooth run to finish the day without further mistakes. The body was pretty tired from all the work up until this point and with another day of racing still ahead I was happy to put in some clean passes and sit 25th on the stage, and be in front of some big names overnight heading into day two.
Day two: once more with feeling
Yet another early start, and with a tired body I hauled myself out of bed and took the shaky boat ride over to the event village. Day two was very similar to day one, passing people, making mistakes, getting sections clean but not entire runs. The strength and fitness to run at the pointy end of the field is very high, something I’m working on but still not quite there yet. It’s a sprint race for those that can, mixed into an endurance event with a prerequisite of high descending skills and mental strength. It was good to get a feel for the areas I’m lacking in so I can go away and come back stronger, but the 33rd position to start my year was a good starting point.
The motivation to do anything other than go complete sloth mode on the Monday after a big event is pretty hard to find, that is unless you have a small four door hatchback rental and a road trip across an active volcano in Patagonia to undertake. With Dave unfortunately cracking his scapula during the practice for the first EWS, this meant it was down to me to see how fast we could get from Chile to Argentina. (Picture a typically smug Jeremy Clarkson smiling, that was me.)
It is safe to say we made good time, and I have a new record for how long you can hold it flat in 5th gear on a public road. The second EWS round was held in a more typical setting, with big mountains and chairlifts, but the terrain was anything but typical. By now you will have seen the images of knee deep powder that greeted everyone. Even with much needed rain in the preceding days there was nothing stopping this from being a mega dust bowl, which suited my style a lot more than the previous pedal-fest in Chile and I couldn’t wait to get stuck into the event.
Unfortunately I was carrying a small muscle tear from the racing in Chile, and while out in practice on the first day I soon realised after having a simple crash (bruising some ribs), that I wouldn’t be able to race at the level required. Obviouysly this was very frustrating after a clean first event, but sometimes that’s racing. What it did allow me to do however was go up on the hill and watch the top guys attack different sections of the course. Everyone was taking different approaches, different lines, different riding styles, but yet the time gaps were all still very tight. It was interesting to watch and something I very rarely get the chance to see in person. It was good to take some positives out of the weekend considering I couldn’t ride, but at the same time it was hard not being out there and going for it.
Until next time. Chris
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