On 25 July 2026, while most travellers stopping at Alzu Petroport will be thinking about fuel, coffee and the long road to the Lowveld, a different tribe will gather there.
They will arrive with bicycles, nervous anticipation and varying degrees of confidence. Some will be seasoned veterans of endurance or 100 Miler racing. Others will be testing themselves beyond familiar limits for the first time. They will come for the Munga 100 Miler at Alzu, a race created for those who want a taste of the Munga spirit without disappearing into the vastness of the South-African landscape for days at a time.
Based on discussions and requests, Jack Black identified a gap that many cyclists quietly recognised. Not everyone is ready for the epic distances of The Grit or the full Munga. Not everyone wants to spend days battling sleep deprivation, exhaustion and the peculiar conversations that occur when a rider has been alone on a bicycle for far too long. The Roadies can’t ride on the road any longer and they all become gravel-bikers. Many riders still crave the challenge, adventure and authenticity that make The Munga events unique.
From that observation, the 100 Miler Series was born.
A race with all the character of a Munga event, condensed into a single day. Long enough to test you. Short enough to race hard. Demanding enough to humble you. Manageable enough to leave you wanting more.
And there are few places more fitting to host such an event than Alzu Petroport, Mpumalanga.
To call Alzu a petrol station feels inadequate. It is one of those uniquely South African places that defies easy description. Travellers stop for fuel and coffee, only to find themselves standing a few metres away from rhino, buffalo, antelope and other wildlife. Families wander between viewing areas. Children point excitedly at animals grazing beyond the fences. Truck drivers sip coffee while buffalo move through the veld nearby.
It feels less like a roadside stop and more like a game reserve that accidentally became a fuel station.
This year, riders will also be competing for a share of R52,000 in prize money, adding another layer of excitement to an already compelling event. There would be proper racing at the sharp end, for the “pro-type” riders as well as the various age category riders.
My own introduction to this landscape came two years ago during the Munga Equipe team race. Looking at these roads again brings those memories flooding back.
The countryside around Alzu is not dramatic in the way tourists often define beauty. There are no towering peaks dominating the skyline. No famous mountain passes drawing photographers from around the world.
Instead, it possesses something subtler.
It is the beauty of working land.
The route winds through a patchwork of commercial farms, forestry plantations, mining operations and game reserves. Red dirt roads stretch toward distant horizons. Harvested maize fields shimmer gold beneath the winter sun. Windmills stand like solitary sentinels watching over the plains. Massive tractors crawl across fields, preparing the land for another season. Rusted farm gates lean against old fences, and rows of pine trees form dark green walls against the pale winter grass.
The photographs never quite capture the scale.
What strikes you first is the space.
Then comes the wind.
The wind in this part of Mpumalanga is not simply weather. It is a permanent resident. It knows every road, every rise and every exposed section. It arrives without invitation and stays as long as it pleases.
The first fifty kilometres often feel less like a bicycle race and more like a negotiation in which the wind has no interest whatsoever in compromise.
You pedal.
It pushes back.
You lower your head.
It grows stronger.
There are moments when it feels as though someone has attached an invisible rope to your handlebars and is steadily pulling you backwards.
Then come the climbs.
Not dramatic alpine ascents, but the long, gradual rises that reveal themselves only after several kilometres. The kind of climbs that slowly drain your legs rather than attacking them outright. The kind that makes water points appear like small miracles on the horizon.
And those water points become places of brief civilisation.
Bottles are refilled.
Stories are exchanged.
Legs are stretched.
Riders compare notes about the wind.
Then, after a few short minutes, everyone heads back into the Mpumalanga landscape.
That landscape, however, is never static.
One moment you are riding past endless harvested fields under a vast blue sky. The next, a massive Case tractor emerges from a cloud of dust. Elsewhere, forestry plantations line the route like silent cathedrals. A weathered windmill creaks against the skyline. A hawk circles lazily overhead.
The route reminds you constantly that this is a working countryside.
Cyclists are merely visitors.
The farmers will still be planting, harvesting and maintaining these roads long after the finish line has been packed away.
Perhaps that is the real appeal of a 100 Miler.
It sits in a sweet spot between endurance and speed. It sits in the middle of a Road Race and a XCO race.
Long enough to create stories.
Long enough to discover things about yourself.
Long enough to suffer a little.
Yet short enough that you can still race with intent rather than merely survive.
For many riders, it becomes the perfect gateway into the wider world of Munga events. For others, it is exactly what they want, a hard day on the bike in a remarkable part of South Africa, followed by the satisfaction of a finish line well earned.
As the Valhalla Vikings discovered during our Equipe adventure, these roads have a way of bringing people together. There is always sweat. There is always dust. There is almost always a headwind. There is usually some complaining along the way.
But there is also laughter.
There is camaraderie.
There is the shared understanding that everyone out there is fighting the same battle against distance, terrain and fatigue.
And somewhere between the windmills, the tractors, the pine forests and the endless red roads, you remember why you ride bicycles in the first place.
Not for the finish line.
Not for the medal.
Not even for the prize money.
But for those rare moments when effort, landscape and adventure come together perfectly.
The 100 Miler at Alzu offers precisely that.
A journey through one of South Africa’s most authentic working landscapes.
A taste of the Munga spirit.
And a reminder that sometimes the best adventures can be found just beyond the next rise in the road.
Take up the challenge, it is in the off-season and come and experience something unique!