ride report by mark

Roses are red, violets are blue

Some ride reports rhyme, but this one doesn’t

(Great report for Saturday Pete!)

OK, so it’s the first ride since Christmas, and I’ve just been away with the family for a week. We stayed in a wonderful guest house on a farm near Peaceful Bay; about 15 min from Walpole. We relaxed plenty, ate well, and exercised little. I even caught some fish after taking classes from Jimmy John Shark, but none that rivalled the one I pulled up on the rig off Vietnam. There were no bicycles; capice?

We got back on Saturday, and I was determined to ride on Sunday, so brushed off the cobwebs and prepared the bike Saturday night.

No problem waking up at 6am, as I’d gone fishing with the kids most mornings, so my body was in early start mode. The weather looked good and I cruised alongside the canning and Swan rivers to the start looking forward to the ride. I checked the blog map before leaving, and was a little concerned about the distance, but what the hell, I was well rested. (Never underestimate the power of rest, I say)

I was amazed at the turnout – around 30 people as we left, with a couple more joining on the way. Lots of new faces which was great to see, and a good turnout from the ladies too.

As Pete was on family duty I did the quick summary of the upcoming journey.

Michael W and I led the group out, and stayed there till Tonkin Hwy; I was determined to do some work after winning the wheel sucker award last Saturday at the SPR breakfast.

Once we got to Welshpool the trouble started. I knew I would not be chasing points, even without Ryan, Pete or Jerry in the group, but got a sharp reality reminder as I struggled to make the top ten on most of the hills.

I think the truth is that whilst I may be off form from too much travelling and not enough training, the group has got a lot stronger. I’m always amazed at how much longer the bunch stays together on the climbs, and the regroup rests at the top are becoming disturbingly short sometimes.

I dropped back and rode at my own pace, and caught a couple on the way. Michael W had gone with the front group, but then dropped back, and pulled me along the bumps from the servo to the end of Welshpool Rd.

I believe the order in front was:

Nico, Carlo, Blake, Michael B, Steve

Riding conditions were still perfect at this stage – a gentle breeze to cool you when we stopped, and crisp clear fresh air to flush out the lungs. I think a few went left and straight to the coffee shop.

We regrouped and did the left-right dogleg over the hill to Glenisla Rd, and then coasted through Bickley Valley to the next dog-leg which carries us to the foot of my favourite climb – Mundaring Weir Road.

I had to wrestle the coffee demons and force my bike to turn right and not left. That hill still haunts me from the Tour de Perth support ride that Jerry and I did on our own, after the group started early without us. I took it fairly easy and even the front guys seemed to start at a reasonable pace. Michael B came flying past me and I sensed some anger management in his cadence. That was the last I saw of him for a while

John B and I rode together most of the way up there, till we found the hard cores draped over their handlebars waiting for us. They panted out names with some lack of certainty when I asked for the finishing order.

I wrote down the following:

Blake, Nico, Steve, Carlo, Michael B

The next section of flattish road was done with more haste that necessary I thought, but then I was still in holiday mode. The bunch split up, and a couple of the girls were left in the chase group.

I chased to catch up on the fast descent into Mundaring Weir, and just caught the front guys at the river crossing. Alas it was not enough to keep me in front by the time we got to the roundabout at the top of the first climb out. I signalled for the guys in front to carry on, while I did a few circles to make sure all were still there, and knew where to go. Unfortunately the last few decided to do a U-turn and head back, and that left yours truly to then go and chase the group on his own. Mmm… not quite what I had planned for my reunion with the bike. And what’s worse I’d just taken off the tri-bars that I bought from Pete – so I couldn’t even “assume the position”.  I started picking them up after a few km, and by the time we hit the flat before the next section there were enough of us to take turns and save some energy for the last hill of the day.

The finishing order at the top was:

Michael B, Brendan, Steve, Blake, Stuart G

We regrouped at the next roundabout, and I counted 24 riders. Excellent for that stage of the ride I thought. Some of us filled up bottles at an outside tap of a nearby house, and others were late to wish they’d done the same. The temperature was creeping up by this stage; but still pleasant riding conditions. The next section was the bit I can never remember street names for, but it always looks vaguely familiar. We did the very steep descent with the sharp right hander halfway down.

The ride to Kalamunda road was not the normal one that I’m used to; but we got there and the guys in front seemed to know where they were going. A couple of the new guys asked if it was flat from there to the coffee shop, and I had to break the news that there was a small incline to negotiate before the luxury of a latté could be savoured.

The hill was just what I was expecting – one too many. I started off tired, but with a rhythm that I thought may carry me to the top. I was wrong. I cracked ¾ of the way up, and limped to the top, fuelled only by the prospect of my much-missed long black coffee, and ham & cheese croissant.

Up front the order was

Michael B, Brendan, Steve, Blake, Stuart G

Paris Brest café seemed to struggle with the 18 of us arriving en masse; there were already a couple of other cycling groups there. The queue was long progressed slowly, but they did their best, and the coffee was great. Peter and Ben popped in as we were leaving; Pete’s eyes told a story of a young baby who had not had a good night. Hang in there Peter; they all sleep eventually.

After a healthy rest, we ambled back towards Welshpool road, only to be interrupted by the sound of Dr Mark’s wheel deflating way too quickly.

The change took longer than it should (where is Simon when you need him) but it gave us time to discuss the merits of bombs vs pumps, and the new technology in integrated tyre liners.

We flew down Welshpool Rd, and I only just caught John B in front at the bottom, who sat on my wheel, and then flew past to take the flag at the first set of lights.

We kept a respectable pace back along Orrong Road, with a few of us sharing the workload.

I said my usual farewell as the group turned right onto Berwick, so I can’t relate details of the final sprint to MacDonald’s. I’m sure someone will fill us in on that.

I finished up with about 120km, and the encouraging thing was that I felt fine for the rest of the day.

It was my last SPR group ride for 2008, and a fitting finale. Thanks to everyone who made 2008 a great cycling year for us, especially Peter.