Bimbache Raid Platja d\'Aro 2013
Heroes and Villains at Bimbache Extrem
Adam Rose - Team Beacon AR / 10.09.2013
Stunned silence. Mouths agape. Incredulity. That was the scene as the race briefing unfolded this evening.
In the months running up to the race, we’d encountered frustration , delays, unresponsiveness, and now it all made sense. It wasn’t something in the water, but something far more sinister…
Some teams had ordered bike boxes from the organisation. We were one of them. They were promised at midday, giving us plenty of time to reinforce them with tape, pack our bikes, then transport them back to HQ.
12 o’clock came and went. No sign. Ah, delays are to be expected – the craziness of the pre-race frenzy.
More hours ticked by. Nadda. The race briefing was scheduled for 6pm, with maps issued thereafter, and no doubt a long night ahead of frantic route plotting before the 6am start, so we were keen to get the bikes sorted asap.
An almost comic pilgrimage formed, between the sports centre (the kit check location), the race HQ and the hotel. Endless, constant to-ing and fro-ing, and lots of shoulder shrugging.
Then the word that team photos were scheduled for 6pm on the beach, with the briefing at 7pm. More confusion. Was that official? Where on the beach?
Finally, back at the sports centre, a van screeched into the parking lot, and out jumped the whirlwind that is Antonio de la Rosa. Fantastic blue shades firmly in place, he and his team hauled cardboard flat-packs from the rear and piled them on the concrete.
But these weren’t spacious airline boxes that we were paying for. Instead, narrow, tatty containers used in bike retail, leftovers headed for the recycle, scrounged from a skip ...?
“Free, these are free, you don’t have to pay!”
Really? We shook our heads, grabbed the boxes anyway, and flew back to the hotel to begin the 'tapeage'.
As news spread of the box arrival, a frantic industry formed on the street outside the hotel. Tape ripping, cardboard folding, bike stripping energy. All the smooth teams (read: those who’d brought their own boxes from home) were absent, but us desperados formed a tight community of commiserators and tape lenders.
At 6:20pm, there was still no sign of the photo shoot by the sea. I phoned the HQ. The meeting was at the HQ and had started 20 minutes ago? Grrrr! Leaving Andy And Ross to finish the boxes, Dan and I raced over.
Only the race captains were allowed inside. Antonio, sans shades, stood at the front. A crowded room, race officials, volunteers, the press, and 17 of the other 19 teams impatient for details. Sorryyyyyy.
Finally the last team slipped in, and Antonio launched into them details. I don’t speak Catalan – do you? Huddles quickly formed around the respective translators.
And it all came out.
A hellish, fiendish mess. Treachery most foul.
The Race Director had fled. The money was gone. No doubt hauling it to the highlands, saddle bags a-thwacking, he’d pulled a devious raid on our cash and our trust, leaving the race in tatters.
Not friend nor family knew of his whereabouts. Much of the transport couldn’t be hired. The maps and control descriptions taken – why? Had they even been printed?
So this was why the boxes had been crappified. They were last minute replacements, salvaged to at least have something for bike transportation.
Antonio had stepped into the breach. His honour, his race, his passion was at stake. Amidst a few tears, he explained that the race would go ahead, for those who would show him the grace and not pull out. A full refund was available from his own coffers, but he was determined to make the best with his resources and the willingness of the volunteers.
It was pretty epic looking around that room, as it hit the fan. No anger, no bitterness, just disbelief. A room of seasoned muscle, it could easily have turned ugly. A LOT of time, money and energy had gone into our race prep, for this?
Quickly the new race took shape.
Stripped of luxury, the main stages would remain in place. The new start time is 12pm midday. First maps will be issued at 11am, with second maps at the mandatory midway camp. The opening sections, of coasteering, snorkel orienteering, city navigation and kayaking are gone. In their place is a 40km trek from Platja d’Aro. Box access (or barrel access, in this event) is reduced, so we have to carry more between stages. No hot food at midway, but hey, we’ll cope.
10 extra volunteers have been drafted in. The GPS units will continue to relay the live feed. Press, TV and social media will continue to report.
So, with a grin and a shake of the head, we adapt, we improvise. As the briefing drew to a close, there was an air of optimism after the initial doom and gloom. As someone in our English-speaking huddle so aptly put it, “OK? Let’s race!”
SleepMonsters
