To describe the past 10 days at the Cycle Tour office as anything less than frenetic would not be doing the time justice. From an office point of view we now move into the crazy period. Provisional seedings are out and cyclists by the thousand are in daily contact with us, espousing the virtues of their prowess and debating at length with the team as to why they should all be seeded in "A group". If only Lance knew the depth of the talent that we have here in SA waiting to pounce should he dare to venture to our sun baked shores...

If the thousands of e-mails and phone calls were not enough to send the most hardened gladiator scurrying to seek refuge then the frustration around trying to seek resolution to the Chapman's Peak issue certainly would. As I write this we await confirmation of an audience with the provincial authorities in a last ditch attempt to gain access to the Peak for the Tour on the 8th of March. We are quietly optimistic that good sense will prevail and the correct decision will be made. Should this decision be that Chappies is not available to us, then all plans are already in play to activate the Ou Kaapse Weg option.

As if Chapman's weren't enough, we are still wrestling with the logistical challenges that face us along the main road between Muizenberg and Kalk Bay. A final announcement on this stretch of the route will be made on Tuesday the 3rd of February.

On a more relaxing note, I was extremely privileged to have spent this past weekend in the hospitable town of Oudtshoorn. During my 20 years in the sport I have ridden many fun rides in many parts of South Africa but I must confess that the Langenhoven Gimnasium Fun Ride was one of my more pleasant road-riding experiences. There is something so peaceful about riding through the foothills of the Swartberg Mountains in an area where, for the day, bicycles outnumbered cars! If you ever find yourself in the area in late January, do take the time to participate in and experience this wonderful event.

Stay tuned to this site for updates around the event and the happenings at our office. I trust that all your training is now starting to pay off and look forward to seeing you all at the various fun rides around the country, starting with the VW/EP Herald this weekend.

Safe cycling,

Dave Bellairs

On November 15 - with 112 days to S-Day (Saddle Day) - the Wheelie recruits met for our first clinic at Westlake, near Muizenberg. That morning I went in search of my bike. When I eventually found it, I discovered that even the cobwebs on it had cobwebs.

At this clinic, the Training Wheels' organisers told us, Cycle Lab's pros would give us a crash course in crash avoidance. They would also teach us about the etiquette of riding in a group and how to sail up hills like Lance Armstrong.

We started a gentle 1km circuit of the business park. This isn't too bad - 1km down, 108km to go I thought - as we completed the first lap. But as I gently squeezed my brakes I discovered that all was not well with my bike. GWWAAAARRRRRRH! The ground shook as my brakes let out a terrible groan.

"Do you know that your bike sounds like a foghorn?" asked a fellow cyclist.

I turned around and looked at the cyclist behind me as if it was his metal steed that was growling like a wounded monster, but nobody was fooled - least of all the cyclist behind me, who said: "Jeeze, your bike sounds like a cat being tortured!"

We were instructed to do the 1km circuit again. Perhaps the bike just needs to get it out of its system, I thought hopefully, as we set off. But I was wrong. As we came to the end of the lap and I pressed the brakes gingerly, my bike GWWAAAARRRRRRHed again, prompting more comments from my fellow cyclists.

"It's like you've got a car hooter," said one.

"That noise is like a... a... a... a big noise," another one offered.

Even the instructor had a go - "Wow, that's like a goose being strangled" - before coming up with some, er, sound advice: "You should get your brakes seen to."

I took his advice and my brakes have been fixed. To all the whale spotters who jumped out of bed and raced to Muizenberg after hearing whale-like wailing at the crack of dawn on November 15... I'm terribly sorry.

Doof. Doof. Doof. I'm surrounded by sweaty bodies in lycra clothing as fast doof-doof-doof "music" thumps through the speakers. No, I'm not at a rave. I'm at a spinning class at Virgin Active. It's November 9 - the very first session for Training Wheels recruits. Through a programme of spinning sessions and supervised rides, the Cape Argus Pick n Pay Cycle Tour aims to get this motley crew of beginners saddle savvy by March 8.

The spinning instructor is trying to convince us that we're not even in the gym. We're on the road with breathtaking sea and mountain views (in this scenario there are no speeding motorists wooshing past). I close my eyes and try to picture the mountain and smell the salty sea breeze. Nah. My only view is of my fellow spinners in a spin and no matter how much I try (and believe me I do try) the stench of sweaty socks can't be mistaken for a sea breeze.

Before I got on the bike I knew that spinning was something spiders did to trap their prey, I knew it was something chubby Australian bowlers did (also to trap their prey) and I knew it was what politicians did when asked tough questions they didn't want to answer. I didn't realise it was also something that could be done on a bike.

The session goes by in a blaze of perspiration and "let's get physical" doof-doof thumps. But I make it through without stopping. (Between you and me that might have been because the stern instructor pointed her glare in my direction whenever I was tempted to slack off.)

I walk out of the gym, and although I feel like I've been whirled, twirled and whisked through a washing machine's spin cycle, I can't help feeling a bit smug. I have taken a step. It's a small step down a long road - 109-kilometres long to be exact. But it's a step nonetheless. I look at my fellow novice cyclists as they drag their weary bodies out of the gym. We are different people in various stages of fitness from different walks of life but we have one thing in common: in 118 days we intend to conquer Chappies.

Dust off your kids' bikes, trikes or pushbikes - online entries for the Cape Argus Pick n Pay Tricycle and Junior Tour are open!

Be sure to enter your young ones between 15 January and 15 February 2009 by logging on to www.tricycletour.co.za or www.juniortour.co.za.

The Tricycle Tour (presented by Bonaqua) aims to teach toddlers and young children the essential elements of cycling under the watchful eye of an accompanying parent. Kids between the ages of two and six are encouraged to take part in this 1,5km fun ride. Parents, remember to bring along your running shoes!

The Junior Tour (presented by Spur Steak Ranches) consists of a 5km or 10km route and is for children between the ages of six and 12. First-timers can have Mom or Dad riding along.

The Tricycle and Junior Tour is the ultimate excuse to drag your kids away from their PC or TV screens, so don't miss this fun-filled family day!

Please note the "No Helmet No Ride" rule will be strictly enforced.

In order to enter, or for more info, check out www.tricycletour.co.za or www.juniortour.co.za.      

My name is Jonathan and I was almost a 38-year old virgin.

I came so close, but an event took place to change my status. No, no no. It's not what you're thinking. You see, the organisers of the Cape Argus Pick n Pay Cycle Tour were planning to call its programme for newbie cyclists "The Virgins", but at the last minute decided to call it "Training Wheels". Does that make me a 38-year old wheelie? I think I'd rather be a virgin.

Perhaps it's just as well. After all, the decision to enter Cycle Tour was made during an ante-natal class. When my wife discovered she was pregnant, I told her that I was going to be there for her.

"Sure," she said, "we'll share the joy of the baby when she's born, but I will have to endure the discomforts of pregnancy alone."

"No," I assured her. "I'll help you bear the pain." At the time I really meant it. She just raised an eyebrow.

So, in solidarity, I gave up all the things she had to give up. It was the least I could do.

Goodbye caffeine, soft cheeses and alcohol. Hello pickled onion and tootchpaste sandwiches and anything else her hormone-bubbling body craved. I knew, though, that however much I tried I would never be able to, er, reproduce the pain of childbirth.

The midwife who took the ante-natal class agreed. "Appreciate your partners," she told the fidgeting expectant fathers, "because you'll never understand what moms go through." And then the the midwife dropped the bombshell: "If you want just a little taste of what they'll be going through, then sign up to ride the Cycle Tour."

My wife gave a small but noticeable nod of her head - and with that nod my fate was sealed. On March 8, I will be cycling 109 kilometres. Or, to put it another way, I will be cycling 109 KILLERmetres.

I registered for Cycle Tour and was invited to join the Training Wheels programme - a pilot project launched by the Cycle Tour, Virgin Active and Cycle Lab for first time Cycle Tour cyclists. The programme teachies new cyclists to repair punctures, climb hills, select gears and ride in a group. There are also spinning classes and supervised rides.

Which is why on Sunday, November 15, I woke up at the crack of dawn to make my way to Westlake for the programme's first clinic. "The last time I was awake this early on a Sunday morning was 15 years ago and I was only awake because I hadn't gone to bed yet," I grumbled to my sleeping wife.

"It's so early I feel nauseous and I can't even have a cup of coffee," I moaned.

If I had been expecting sympathy I would have been sorely disappointed.

"My wife opened an eye and said: "At least now you have an idea of what morning sickness feels like."

* Jonathan Ancer is the Group Training Editor for Independent Newspapers. Follow the run-up to Jonathan's very first Cycle Tour every Wednesday.

Pain! Yes, pain! That's all I felt this past weekend as I hauled my well holidayed frame up over Ou Kaapse Weg yesterday in the first PPA funride of the new year. I would never have believed that my lycra top could shrink so much in just two weeks of rest. 2009 has arrived with a sweaty, heaving jolt!

Greetings all and a hearty welcome to 2009. May this be an exceptional year for you all and may the wind be constantly on your back. From a Cycle Tour perspective it certainly is going to be a busy one, with lots of exciting challenges that have been laid before us.

As we speak, discussions are taking place with the province and the concessionaire regarding access to our beloved Chapmans Peak. So stay tuned as we make every effort to ensure that the 2009 Cycle Tour will hopefully see all of you wending your way over this scenic drive.

Just to make sure that life is a little more exciting, extensive roadworks are underway along the False Bay coastline between Muizenberg and Fish Hoek. The event will find itself narrowed down to one lane through the section currently being worked on and we are working closely with the engineers on site to ensure that the road surface is in the best of conditions.

Littering... my hot topic of the moment. Please folks, lets keep our wrappers and energy gel sachets with us until the end of the rides. There is nothing worse than watching irresponsible cyclists disposing of their litter along the road. Help us at the Cycle Tour we launch into the new year with our "Stash Your Trash" campaign in an effort to become more environmentally friendly.

That's it for now.

With warmest cycling wishes,

Dave Bellairs