Noel Munday is deeply connected to the Cape Epic, just not on a bike. Race founder Kevin Vermaak is his cousin – Kevin’s father, Warner, was Noel’s uncle. 

Each year at the Cape Epic, he had a very important job. He would start long before dawn. Setting multiple alarms to ensure he didn’t miss his duties, he’d step out into the race village with his bagpipes. At 05:15, the sound would carry across the camp. Noel was the official event alarm clock, signaling that the day had begun. Then he would pack up, drive back to Cape Town and head off to work.

The families stayed close over the years, returning often to spend time together in the Eastern Cape where they had grown up. In February 2025 the family gathered under grave circumstances, for the memorial of Kevin’s father. At the service, Noel played Danny Boy on the pipes. The next morning, over breakfast, the conversation turned to Nedbank Gravel Burn.

Kevin spoke about his new event – the remoteness, the scale and the idea of traversing the Karoo over seven days. The obvious question came up, “Are you going to ask Noel to play the bagpipes?”

Other than his playlist of course, Noel’s first thought was logistics – there would be no driving in and out for the day – no straightforward way to appear each morning and head to work after.

“The only way I can see this being possible is if ‘someone’ arranges an entry to the race, a bike and the T-shirt. Then I’ll play in the morning and ride the day’s stage.”

Kevin agreed to everything, except the T-shirt.

“That you have to earn.”

Up to that point, Noel didn’t ride bikes, at least not to the extent where 7 days and 750km wasn’t a highly intimidating undertaking. What he did have was perspective. Years at the Cape Epic startling had shown him the level of effort and preparation it requires to ride a stage race like this. It was just never something he had considered doing himself.

Nedbank Gravel Burn seemed to require that same level of dedication, but in a race format that felt, at least in theory, less onerous. All this was enough to convince him it was actually feasible. He went home and started training.

At first, without a bike, it was eight weeks of trail running base work, with knee and shin pain and a level of exhaustion he’d never felt before. Then, on his birthday, 26 April, he rode for the first time. Fifty seven kilometres. One for each of his years on the planet!

From there, it became simple. Build the base fitness. Stay consistent. Keep it manageable. No shortcuts. Noel was not a cyclist in the traditional sense, but by the time he arrived at the start line, he was ready.

There Noel was, each morning, bagpipes at sunrise, then straight onto the bike. This time he really felt like he was part of the action. Riding the same route, feeling the same climbs, carrying the same fatigue as the 500 riders, from the biggest names in the sport to amateurs just like him. “In the trenches with the troops,” as he describes it.

There is a Scottish connection in the Karoo, and for Noel there is also a personal connection. “Piping in the Karoo, for me, connects to the regimental bands, their service in the area, and places like St Andrew’s College in Grahamstown,” he says.

He learnt to play through the cadet systems at school, where marching, discipline, and military bands were part of everyday life. That path eventually led him to the Cape Town Highlanders, one of the remaining serving military pipe bands in South Africa.

For him, the pipes have always been tied to service in the field. It is an instrument built for those conditions. It can handle heat, rain, and wind. It is played outdoors, alongside people, not apart from them. And so, in the Karoo, it didn’t feel out of place.

The Karoo has a way of changing its mind. Mostly dry, often windy, yet when the rain comes, it comes suddenly. By the early hours of Stage 6, the conditions had turned nasty at the Gwanishi Burn Camp.

Further up the route at Padstal 1, the skies were clear and the air was still. The idea that the camp was taking strain in the wind felt almost impossible.

Noel stepped out as usual and started playing. “It was a little difficult just walking in a straight line,” he says.

Around him, structures were being taken down, riders and crew moving with urgency. Then Kevin pointed Noel towards the assembly point. Still playing, Noel walked stoically towards it.

“That is what the pipes do,” he says. “They inspire you. They carry centuries of tradition. ‘Hey I know it’s tough, but let’s go!’”

Not only raising everyone’s morale, Noel could be credited with performing a safety function. Everyone was moved to higher ground to regroup. As he played, people moved towards the sound of the pipes. From there, it was a matter of waiting. Sitting in the rain. Letting the morning’s proceedings unfold. Just another day in the Karoo.

Later, however they did enjoy the benefits of the inclement weather – a tailwind for parts of the stage.

For Noel, the week was, in his words, “seriously tough”. He rode most of it alone, near the back of the field. Managing his efforts and nutrition. He’d established a good routine. Eat. Clean. Prepare for the next stage. Rest. Repeat.

But being at the back of the field came with its own special perspective. At the end of each stage, no matter how late he arrived, there was still a warm welcome. Music. Energy. Cool wet cloths. A recovery drink. A comfortable, specious tent all ready. “Delicious food”, prepared in the middle of nowhere, to a consistent standard that didn’t quite make sense given the setting.

Noel will return to Nedbank Gravel Burn in 2026. He’ll be back in the Burn Camp Lapas before sunrise with the pipes, and back on the bike when the racing starts.

“I do it because it is difficult. If you get to the end of the week and you haven’t been pushed, you should look for something else that will.”

For him, the point is to be prepared to manage seven days. This time, he returns with a year of riding experience behind him. More time on the bike. More understanding of what the week demands.

Throughout the journey, he shared updates with friends and family on a WhatsApp group following each stage. His parents, in their eighties, tracking the experience from afar, living it with him.

At the centre of it all is the memory of his uncle Warner. It was Warner’s 80th birthday that first brought Noel into the Cape Epic and his memorial that brought him to Nedbank Gravel Burn. The pipes tie it all together.

Danny Boy.
Auld Lang Syne.

And, at the finish line in 2025, Kevin was waiting, true to his word, T-shirt in hand. Well-earned.