'Tour de Antarctic'

In true track racing style I was out of the seat pushing the biggest gear I could in an effort to get a really great shot on the camera across a broad ice section and up what looked like a solid snow bank on the other side. After crossing the ice with low angled sun reflecting off it I smoothly made the ascent of the small snow wave (more like a dune of sand for the desert dwellers)before the sickening feeling of the front wheel being pulled towards the icy depths below the snow. Stopping over a far smaller distance than it had taken me to speed up I stopped as my entire front wheel was swallowed by the soft drift of snow. Not having enough time to even consider what had happened I sailed for what felt like an eternity through the air landing with all of the grace of a seal as its body slothfully lands on the ice when getting out of the ocean. Looking back my bike was exactly where I had left it!

Unlike the sand where your bike falls to the ground it was still upright as the snow or either side of the wheels held it in place. Gathering my thoughts I found myself removing snow and ice from the inside of my shoes and gloves, up under my bike knicks, between my eyes and sunglasses, down my back melting into my bum crack (incidentally this later started to refreeze)and between the holes in my helmet! What a stack in true ‘yard sale’ (this is a term commonly used by skiers when they see a total beginner having a big stack and leaving items of equipment and clothing all of the slope in the process) style.

The rest of the ‘Tour de Antarctic’ was relatively tame and after a gruelling 15km in nearly 2hours we returned to base with a broken chain, buckled rim, sore coccyx and deflated spirits! Nah, everything but the deflated spirits and I might add that I had no mechanicals and was not harmed (nothing but pride that is) in any stages of the ‘Tour’.