Category: Story time
They call me “the Caveman.” I am: 6ft 3, weigh 85kg, 33 or 34 (?) years old. Professional triathlete for the past 16 years. I am an African. (Gets me funny looks in America)
Life on the road. By Conrad Stoltz
France, 1996.
Triathlon heaven, those years. I was the youngest of a handful of South Africans racing for a village called Cahors. Every weekend we’d travel to races, chasing money, glory and adventure.
My first knobbly tire bike
My “Knoppebandefiets” The number was the right one all along!
I was a rabid cyclist at the age of 5. It was the year 1979 and it was Christmas.
Santa (my dad minus the Santa costume) wheeled in the most amazing bike I had aver laid eyes upon- in fact, it was a little motorbike. Minus the engine.
It was black with yellow plastics: Mud guards, a number plate, (#1) even a little bottomless petrol tank. The suspension was HUGE. (ok, I was 5) Double coil springs in the rear and the front end looked JUST like a “Scrambler”. Except, after a few years my dad bolted the lions’ head of our Peugeot hood ornament on the front mud guard.
The bike had a long banana seat and a cutting edge back pedal brake. But most importantly- it had knobbly tires. At last, the “knoppe bande fiets” I had been dreaming about.
Of course, the bike was way too big. The frame had some ridiculous guarantee, so my parents bought the bike a few sizes too big as it “would last forever” and I would “grow into it”.
I remember not really being able to ride it properly for a while. (even though I was a little Greg Minnaar on my little purple 12” tire bike) But soon I had built jumps in the back yard and went “skidding” with the other kids on an open piece of dirt behind George the Greeks corner Café.
I loved that bike and went everywhere on it. After years of faithful service and many a scuffed knee or elbow it got stolen. Probably ended up in Bike Heaven. Also known as a “Township”.
By then the BMX mania was in full swing, and after a respectable mourning period, a birthday became a visit to heaven with a shiny Kamikaze BMX with a Chrome Molebdium frame, a number “88” racing plate, bear trap pedals and yellow tires. But thats another story in itself…
The Caveman discovers the tractor!
Always keen to support my meager triathlon income with some cash, I’m trying my hand at growing instant lawn. The field has been fallow for about 6 years (since my dad tried Protea flower farming) so the plowing was quite tough. Had to cut some smallish thorn tress down, roll rocks away and tried to get rid of all the Sickle Thorns. You’ll notice I write Sickle Thorns with capitals, as They deserve a lot of respect. They go through a tractor tire like a knife through butter. I’m almost done preparing the field now, and am on my 2nd front tire so far. As you can imagine, changing a tractor tire is not nearly as quick and easy as a bike tire…
This is how I fly. Getting to the field (where the tractor sleeps) is a 25minute race pace mountain bike ride away. (45min by tractor) Getting home is where the plow backs up as a bike rack. Its about as close as I get to training…
