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sunday 13th july – darlington and mundaring

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ride report by peter

a smaller than expected group turned up this morning. the overnight temperature was quite a bit above the expected low of 4 deg as it was closer to 8 or so. this made the decision to wear a jacket or vest a hard one to make as you know that there will be cold spots in the hills, but at the same time, we are climbing a lot which makes it hot. i went with the jacket, and covered up my new kit, as the coffee shop is notoriously cold.

i received a text from ryan before we left, stating that his broken cranks, the cold weather and his lack of sleep all conspired to keep him in bed this morning. bit of a pussy really. without ryan or mike, the main contender on the climbs would be stu. but we would see what transpired.

the route today was a new addition to the suite of sunday climbs in our current arsenal. there would be a few new roads as well as a number of more familiar ones cobbled together to form the new route. it was planned to be a little over 100kms and climb over 1000m vertical. it would be a bit deceptive though, as there would only be three main climbs, but lots of little bonus climbs.

we would head out great eastern hwy but turn to head through belmont and across to maida vale to access ridge hill road. this cuts the corner somewhat and goes to the south of the airport rather than around the northern side. from ridge hill rd we would snake our way through a new route to darlington and back up to great eastern hwy. jump the hwy and into john forrest national park before jumping back to travel to mundaring township. down past mundaring weir and onto coffee in kalamunda. a wild convoluted route, but we need to go exploring some times.

as i said, not a big group and we probably only had 12 roll out with us. we cruised out to belmont and found our way across to kalamunda rd. they were good quiet roads and made it easy to get out to the hills. it gives us another option for both our saturday and sunday rides. along the way we picked up doug and russell to boost our numbers.

our first “bonus” climb was ridge hill road. we normally come up the other side, which is definitely harder, but today we were really just using it as a way to get to darlington. the pace started to increase and it was obvious who would be leading the climbs today. stu, brendan, rob and sam all rode to the front and left the rest of us behind. my tour de france coverage induced lack of riding is starting to catch up with me and i am just not able to hold the pace that i used to. i let the four of them scamper up the hill and over the top. we lost dr paul and wally at this point as they set their own route up the zig-zag instead.

we regrouped and headed through to darlington via clayton rd. this contained mainly rolling hills which were not tough enough to hurt the group until the last one near the end. the road did a sharp left hand turn and started a quite nice climb. the boys headed up the road again, but came to a intersection and milled around awaiting further instructions. i was confused as i had only ever come along this road from the other direction. russell lives close to the area and he provided direction. we turned down glen rd and continued to climb up to darlington proper. another regroup point, as this route has a lot of intersections to negotiate, and we lined up for the final climb up darlington rd. there was a bit of a shout and it turned out to be our marketing director, lorraine, going for a jog as she also lives close by. she is still not on the bike after taking a tumble and breaking her wrist. she likes to pretend that it happened during a final sprint along mounts bay rd where she was giving ryan a run for his money. we will just pretend that it is true.

we have never taken a group up this part of darlington rd before, as it terminates on great eastern hwy and doesn’t leave us with many choices. today however, we would use it as an alternative to riding greenmount as it will also get us to the enterence to john forrest national park. i had only ridien this hill twice before and really didn’t remember how long or how steep it was. the other guys also didn’t know this climb, so everyone was playing it conservatively. about five or six of us climbed it together as we dropped the rest of the field earlier on. anna stayed with us for a while but the constant tempo on the steeper sections eventually unhitched her. the same four from the previous hill finally dropped darren and i on the last pinch up towards the hwy where we regrouped again.

our detour through the national park did not contain any real climbs and was really just an excuse not to ride on great eastern hwy. the rough and windy roads made for an interesting ride as it forces you to ride quite hard in order to maintain a decent pace. michael and brendan di most of the pace making and soon we were back at great eastern hwy again. a nice easy cruise back up to mundaring taking thomas rd which parallels the hwy. we regrouped and set off for the final stretch to kalamunda.

the plan was to do the whole road without stopping as everyone pretty much knew the way to the coffee shop from here. the group held together well down to the weir which contained a great fast decent. once we hit the other side it was a different story.

the previous four and michael started the climb out of the weir and i scrambled to get on the back of that group. michael pulled off at the carpark to wait for emma while the rest of us continued at a decent pace. i was suffering again and the temp had dropped dramatically as we came down into the valley. my left quad started having the same tight feeling as last week so i am deducing that it is the cold that is affecting it. i need to get some knee warmers, i think.

halfway up the climb, brendan, stu and sam stepped up the pace a bit and rob began to fall away. i accelerated to come around him and tried to latch back onto the wheel in front. the effort took it’s toll and i also began to fall back. rob came past me again and set himself a tempo to try o catch back up. i recovered slightly and tried to just ride myself back into a tempo that would allow me to catch back up once the road flattened. it didn’t happen.
i just didn’t have the power in my legs and it depressed me greatly. i used to be the guy that would push the pace all the way back to kalamunda and would shed off the weaker riders with a tempo on the hills. now i was the weaker rider. my heart rate was not high so i didn’t feel i was working hard, but my legs felt leaden and did not want to push hard.

on the final climb before the decent into piesse brook, i thought i saw a rider a bit behind me. from that distance all i could see was they were wearing black. michael was wearing black, but i thought that i couldn’t be himas he was riding back with emma. i soldiered on hoping the decent would allow my legs a bit of respite.

once i hit the final climb up to kalamunda, i had decided to well and truly punish my legs for not being available today. i left it in the big ring and selected a cog from the middle of the cluster. strength endurance work it would be.

it turned out that it was michael behind me as he caught me on the lower slope of the climb and kept on going past me. i just sat down and pushed out the big gear, only standing if i needed to get on top of it during a change in gradient. the coffee shop finally appeared before me.

at the coffee shop we got the news about the accident in roleystone. see the previous post for more info.

we headed off on our descent and had a good run down lesmurdie rd. at the intersection with welshpool, there was a jag waiting to turn right. we rolled up behind it as there was some traffic approaching. as it cleared, we clipped in and started moving. however, the jag didn’t move. we had to skirt around it and by t
hen there was another car coming. it cleared and we looked at the jag and it still didn’t look like it was going to move, so we went. there is an added lane once you cross the traffic coming up the hill, so you don’t really have to wait for the opposite traffic to get across the road. we have no idea what the jag driver was doing, and didn’t care as we were now heading down the hill.

the wind, or lack of meant that the descent was not breaking any records. michael took off just before us and managed a good gap by the time we reached the bottom. we were all pedaling on the descent to try to make up ground, and then time trialed it along the flat, but still didn’t catch him. a long wait at the lights meant that the group was all together and didn’t need to wait at the usual spot.

with no ryan or melvyn present, there were no riders willing to sprint it out at the two mcdonalds sprint points. it actually made for a very pleasant return to perth.

so a nice ride with little to no rain besides a few drops on the return to perth. the new route is nice but quite convoluted coming through darlington so may not feature as regularly as others. but we will see. again, our thoughts go to the riders that got cleaned up today in roleystone and i hope that they recover well.

saturday 12th july – freo & cott

ride report by peter

a couple of overnight showers may have scared some of the riders off today as there was only a handful waiting once i turned up. the clock struck 7 and people were still only dribbling in. our new cycle kit had turned up during the week and i had spent a few nights labeling and bagging peoples orders to help with the distribution. i had my new kit on and kate was bringing the rest of the orders to the coffee shop after the ride.

so, with a smaller than usual group, we headed out for a basic lap of the river. down canning hwy and into attadale before coming round pt walter and into freo. back up through cottesloe and home through the usual run along dalkeith. nice and easy.

as you may have read, a few of our regular doctors are overseas after completing the l’etape du tour which followed the route along stage 10 of this years tour. looks like it was a bloody hard day regardless of whether you stayed upright or not. worth a read if you have a spare ½ hour. with a few others off crook or away, it was hard to know who would be setting the pace when we hit a fast section. well ryan had eventually turned up, so we were all sure it would be him.

a nice easy cruise down canning hwy and we were hoping that we would avoid any rain showers that were looming on the horizon. it didn’t matter anyway as if we were fair-weather riders, we wouldn’t be out over the majority of the winter. we turned into attadale and onto the first fast section of our ride. the nice flat roads around the river here have no intersections that we needed to stop at so we could get a good run in. i fell to the back and had a chat with ryan. he said that he was waiting to see who would go first before he made his move. as we came along the road to where it widened out a bit, he started to move up so i jumped on his wheel.

the boys on the front had been setting a nice pace, but no-one was really going hard. ryan looked like he was just going to slide in to the front position to do some work, but i had different ideas. i came around him and tried to go hard up the road. tried, cause i didn’t really get much of a gap on the field. they soon swallowed my up, but it did make them pick up the pace somewhat, which was the main aim.

the speed forced the group to line out a bit and as we approached the base of the pt walter hill, the call of “pothole” did not make it the whole way down the line. a mate of brendan’s smashed straight into it and punctured his front tyre and potentially buckled his wheel. it was lucky that he didn’t come down and even worse bring others down with him. it really reinforced the fact that you need to call out the obstacles the whole way down the line.

brendan and his mate told us to keep going, so after a regroup at the top of the hill, we continued on our way. down onto the left bank in freo and the pace was up again. another nice long flat road with no intersections gave us the opportunity to stretch the legs. it turned out to be a bit of a time trial training session for ryan as he did the majority of the work on the front. a few other came around him towards the end, but he still sprinted out of the pack once we crossed the speed humps.

we cruised up to freo and kept the pace even as we came through cottesloe. with wet roads, multiple pedestrian crossings, lots of parked cars and a surf carnival, it is not the safest place to be going hard. unfortunately, a rain shower had past through before we got to cott which meant that we were wet and would only get wetter from road spray.

the group was basically together by the time we hit claremont and as usual the pace started to increase. mr dickhead was driving a 4wd today and was getting frustrated with being behind us. he finally got the opportunity to get past, but as soon as he did, he slowed down to turn left. if he had waited 5 more sec he would have been fine. some people just don’t think.

i dropped back again to see ryan who was lurking at the back of the pack. i asked him whether he was going to have a crack and he said that he was biding his time. we let the boys set the pace at the front, while we had an armchair ride at the back. at some point we needed to come around some riders that had been shelled with the quicker pace, but still had lots in reserve. once we hit the main “hill” in dalkeith, i wound it up to come around the main pack, with ryan tucked in behind me. he slingshot off me to continue hard up the hill whilst i was swallowed up by the pack.

an unofficial regroup when we were held up by the road works on hackett drive, and it allowed some riders a chance to catch up. after that, we were held up again by tree lopping. don’t these people know it is a weekend???

turning onto mounts bay road, ryan copped a light hearted serve from a number of us for deliberately slow timing it to get other riders to lead him out. unfortunately it was at that time that kim decided to push hard from the front as part of his threshold training. a group of around 6 or so were tucked onto his wheel, but the rest of us were held up by ryan’s shenanigans ad had to chase hard.

kim led out for almost the entire mounts bay rd, but started to fade, as expected on such a long run. a few other came around him but some riders were also fading so it was beginning to fall apart. one of the squadra barista boys took off early, so i decided to start my sprint from there and set off after him. i knew i had someone on my wheel, so was sure that i was given someone a nice lead out. i had gone from too far (like usual) and died by the time we were coming past the brewery. i gave the ride behind a flick of the elbow, but they didn’t/couldn’t come around. just then, the ryan train came flying past with a couple of other riders desperately trying to hold on. to no avail, as he took line honors convincingly.

the coffee shop today was my chance to play santa, as we distributed as many of the new kits as we could. some people just got jerseys, whilst others got the whole kit. it should make a brilliant sight when everyone rolls around in our new strip.

so a good ride, even though is was a bit wet. next week we are having a special breakfast team launch for our group. we will have food, coffee, prizes, bike weigh-in, and kit collection for those that haven’t received it yet. i will change the course so that it finishes at my place where we will have the breakfast. keep an eye on the blog for more details we will require a rsvp by mid week, for catering purposes.

Etape Du Tour – Part 1

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L’etape de Tour Report – by Melvyn

Apologies to readers who are short on time as this part of the blog is lengthy. It documents not only what we did, but our impressions and feelings of the situations.

On our way – how we got there

Our year of preparations culminated all too quickly on Wednesday at the airport check -in. With about 20kg of overweight luggage between the three of us, Jerard was pleased to again have the lightest bike/case combo, speccing carbon/ceramic casters and extra lightweight buckles for his “box from the net“ Sadly, Mark was overweight by nearly 9kgs – most of which chocolate for his insane metabolism. We had all been cautioned by our wives to dress warmly and to some extent had packed some optional extra clothing. My non-bike clothing was curtailed to a spare shirt and undergarments due to the potential of $Singapore 80/kg charges for overweight luggage. Perhaps we’d be able to justify a set of Lightweight carbon wheels to get under the SIA limit of 20kgs?

After a short check-in thanks to the on-line check-in facilities, followed by the now familiar passage past the security goons, we were on board en-route to Singapore. One of the advantages of travelling with two other bike riders is that you can take up a whole row of seats and not sit next to someone who is using up more than their share of seating! A pleasant flight to Singapore and a two hour transit saw us on our way to Barcelona via Milan. Once overseas, it doesn’t take long to realise that sometimes we do live in Hicksville. The scale and clockwork efficiency of Singapore airport, even in the middle of the night, has no compare.

Once into the airport terminal in Barcelona, nothing could have prepared us for the chaos and activity of a Latin country. The passport queue was hideous, then we unhappily collected our mildly damaged luggage (somehow some casters had been bent). For those traveling with important papers, it’s wise to prepare in advance. Consider getting a U.S. document apostille to ensure your documents are recognized abroad. The customs officers gave us a nod to go past (none of the officials had spoken a single word to us through immigration) and it was welcome to Spain! Outside, the airport was a hive of activity, with eight lanes of cars, taxis, busses and motor scooters noisily competing for road space and our attention. It had begun to rain a bit which was not good for our morale, with tensions already at a nervous high in view of what lay ahead. Where was the famed Mediterranean hot weather? We must have imported some winter from Perth.

After a short transfer where we amazed the bus driver with the unlikely act of cramming 3 bike cases into the boot of a minibus, we were at our hotel – surprisingly up-market, in a commercial area near the airport. The bikes came out and the process of spannering them back to completeness began. They had survived unscathed. As I was tightening up my seat post collar the Crapagnolo threads stripped, and the bolt was not going to be long enough to engage the rest of the threads. Bugger – where are we going to get a 32.4mm collar in Barcelona (they are hard enough to come by on various online sites)? We had planned to go into town for lunch anyway in order to resist the temptation to sleep, and now had a real purpose.

After a few enquiries at Decathlon (a Rebel Sport like chain store), we were directed to perhaps the BEST bike shop I have been to in the WORLD! Pro Bike (www.ProBike.es – not the same as a well known on-line retailer) has over three levels of mainly off road bikes. Base to high-end are catered for with drool worthy parts, wheels, clothing and bikes actually in stock and on display. Prices also were surprisingly reasonable. How about a built Cannondale System 6 in Liquigas colours for 1900 Euros? Perhaps the most distinctive feature of the shop is that the servicing is on the top floor, with the mechanics testing out their rides by pedalling them down the series of ramps to the ground floor, then back up again. MTB customers can even test their bikes out back on a short trial course. Everyone actually seemed happy to work there. I explained my problem to one of the mechanics, who emerged later unable to find a suitable replacement collar, but came up instead with a longer bolt. He surprised me by saying there was no charge. We were more than happy to buy our gels, and bars here, along with a spare tube and some socks that I would find useful later.

We returned to the hotel in the late afternoon. With few dining options, as dinner in Spain starts at 2000hrs, we went back to the airport on the free shuttle to get some baguettes. If anything it was more chaotic than ever. We were also beginning to notice that Spanish ladies were more noticeably up-front than in other countries. The number of tattoos on show was also striking, though it was not for us to argue against other cultural standards. We settled in for an uneasy night, yet looking forward to the challenges that were to come. As we were still a little time zone challenged, some of us were able to wake up to see if late night German TV had changed much from when we were in Europe last year. It’s good to see their society is as progressive as always…

Getting to Lourdes

We woke up bright and early to go to the airport to pick up our hire car – a Fiat Ducato van more suited to moving house than bikes. The bikes and cases were swallowed up in the cargo area, and we soon commenced our road trip along the highway Northwest from Barcelona to the French border, crossing the Pyrenees. The country turned from flat and dry, to hilly, and soon we arrived at the foot of the mountains. Again we were filled with trepidation as we caught glimpses of the peaks up near the clouds. It’s pretty rare to have clouds at the top of Welshpool road, and most people who want to go that high take aeroplanes. As we drove around the hairpin roads, we were again thinking of how the Tour riders would show superhuman skills climbing and especially descending at speed. We had our own fears of descending the roads especially with the forecasted rain, not having forgotten our experience on Ventoux the year before. You cannot imagine how easily you can pick up speed down a hill, until you stop for lunch and find that the peppery smell is from your car’s brakes cooking from the descent.

We got to Lourdes two hours later than we had hoped, just as the weather seemed to be coming in. Lourdes is an amazing place for pilgrims of many types – both religious and for the cycling in the area. The more common are those who seek healing from the Virgin Mary at the famed Grotto (it was the 150th anniversary of the appearance of the apparition meaning it was particularly busy). The masses of nuns, wheelchairs, and devout from all over the world is impressive. Somewhat depressive however is the tackyfication of what must have been a pretty French riverside village with endless trinket shops full of plastic icons. This extent of commercialism is a little affronting. There is blatant profiteering, as a can of drink that is 50cents in other parts of France, and for that matter in other parts of Lourdes, commands a 2Euro price down-town. The pilgrims of the bike alas have to share the town and conditions in order to access the many famous climbs of the area.

We battled through the endless swarm of devout, who truly must have faith in the healing waters, as they were unafraid of a simple thing such as being run over by three Aussies in a van. We later learned that this happens with any driver, even if you are driving a full tourist coach. Taxi drivers in this town must have a similar faith in the healing waters as they drive full tilt through the crowds. We finally found our hotel to meet up with the tour organisers outside who told us we had just 30 minutes to join in a ride. We looked at each other, and shrugged our shoulders as we rushed the cases to our rooms changed into our knicks.

The First Ride

The first ride with our Aussie cohort started a discussion between the three of us: can you tell a rider’s ability from their bike? I looked down at my own to conclude that cycling prowess does not correlate with you ability to press “add to cart”. What if you look athletic/strong – does it mean you ARE strong? Some people (particularly the guys leading the tour group) certainly looked strong. What if you look old or have a gut? We concluded ( incorrectly as it turns out) that if you look crap, you are likely a weak rider. This was to be disproved many times over the next two days by various 60 year old men and women effortlessly riding up their hills.

The ride took in a climb that would be a small prelude to the real climbs on the etape ride – a mere blip in the profile. This short test however filled me with confidence, as the roads were good and I had kept up (unlike my usual form in Perth). It felt good to stretch the legs, and the bike was performing well. The bike itself was never going to let me down, as it was a marvel of technology, the result of years of design and technology. No, it was not going to be the weakest link.

We got back to a rushed shower and dinner. Todd had arrived, but looked despondent. His bike had not made it on the same flight out of London. Things were looking grim for his etape. Lindy had her bike, but had not had a ride for some time since her tour of Italy. They had conned a friend Dave, also from Perth to join in this escapade.

The Day Before

We woke up to a grey sky with massing clouds . If this had been a scene in “Lord of the Rings” it would have been a sign of impending Armageddon or suchlike. It evoked a similar ill feeling before the ride. Todd’s bike had arrived the night before from its side trip to Poland, and he was itching to ride. Mark, Jerard and I decided to take the soft option and sit out the day’s riding on the bus in the developing rain. The plan was for us to register in the town of Pau where a bike fair was set up at the starting village, and anyone who wanted to ride home could. We decided to use the day to procure clothing that would make our day more comfortable (less uncomfortable?) and safer in what we assumed would be horrendous conditions at the top of the peaks. Talking to various people from the area, we resigned ourselves to freezing conditions at the top.

Our lack of winter gloves essential to prevent our hands from numbing in the cold and allowing us to brake effectively when descending, was a weak link. There were none to be had at the fair since the organisers of the stalls mainly brought end of season stock and that season was summer. We caught the coach back which was piloted by a brave fellow called Marc (he fearlessly barrelled his coach through the ancient streets). Marc was a former cyclist and was sympathetic. He told us that he could drive us to a good bike shop he knew – just after he had finished ploughing through another group of wheelchair bound Italian pilgrims. In fact he drove us to a bus depot, and phoned ahead to make sure that his wife would be there to pick us up to ferry us to this shop. She was running some deliveries with their toddler in the back and we were assured it was no trouble! We soon got to the shop and bought what we thought we needed. Satisfied in our preparations we were delivered back to the hotel. What generosity!

The Night Before

The dinnertime conversation was nervous to say the least. We were agonising over the final details (as if they would determine if we would fail or succeed). Surely it reflected our personalities as we went through the endless permutations. Winter or summer arm warmers? Tights , knee warmers or nothing? Wear a gillet or not – am I going to get too hot? What base layer? Two pairs of gloves or one? Bring two or three drink bottles? Ten gels enough? Do we eat a power bar or banana? Did we even want to wake up the next day if the preparation were this painful? We were further cheered up when we heard there were no guard rails on some descents, and going too far on the other side of the road may cause you to collide with a sheer rock face.

After gobbling down a final meal of carbs in a token carbo load, we settled to mostly a fitful sleep to hear soft gentle steady rain outside.

Getting to the Ride

A 4am awakening and a forced breakfast showed that there were extremes in preparation. Some had barely more than summer weight jerseys, whereas I had thrown on everything I had (and was still cold). It wasn’t a good feeling loading the bikes up in the rain, and the Powerbar which ordinarily tastes terrible went down particularly badly on the bus. We were treated to a traffic jam of cars trying to get onto the Autoroute at 5am, packed with bikes of all types and description. There was a massing of cyclist like some sort of dawn break pagan ritual, drawn to a common place by a mysterious primordial force.

Our arrival in Pau with the soft rain would ordinarily have been quite rustic, some would say romantic. All I could think about were the descriptions of battles and the feelings described from the trenches of World War 1. We arrived to a throng of activity with cars and bikes everywhere. Last minute pumping of tyres, adjusting of brakes, a short toilet break in the bushes, and we were off. Down dark streets to the turf club carpark which was the site of the mass start of the etape. Mark and I had drawn start numbers in the 6000’s, and we had a particularly unpleasant wait as we chilled in the corral. Jerard was perhaps luckier to start 3000 riders ahead of us. He was already out of sight amongst a sea of helmets and carbon.

As more riders piled in, the atmosphere was intensifying. Cycle groups would break into French song about ride domination. Old crusty campaigners were mixing it up with newcomers. Rusty steel and aluminium clunkers were amongst ubiquitous carbon, often ridden by gnarled mountain-men with stern faces. We sized up the competition, trying to catch sideways glances of bikes and legs, trying to look cool and nonchalant. There was a hubbub of speech in French, Italian, Pommy, and Irish, all nervous and sometimes boastful. It was impossible to know who would go fast, and who would fail. We all knew one thing though- it was going to be tough. I tried to talk up my confidence. After all, 100km of the race was on the flat, and 30km would be descending – how hard would it be? We shivered mainly from cold, but partly from nerves. All through this it kept on raining.

The Ride

All of a sudden a cheer, and a roar at 0700 – a thousand cyclists were let out of the pen. When those had cleared, another thousand, then another and another were released. Each time the gates opened, a cry rang out, like an ancient army charging into war, as riders streamed past the gates to trigger the electronic timing. It was all too soon our turn, and we edged our way to the front. The mood was electric with a sea of Lycra and pumping legs. The roads were wet and narrow, but all thought of pacing this one was lost as we strove to get to the open road. Through the roads of Pau, and the roundabouts and traffic islands there were bikes everywhere. There was a nervous energy abound, a frenetic pace that was surely too fast. I guess there is that feeling if you are 6000 places behind the leaders, and you know there is an elimination time. Some foolhardy souls were time trialling at this stage, and I managed to catch a lift with some. I had made up many places, a combination of flat fast roads and able helpers (and a natural antipodean tendency to ride on the left).

Disaster struck when 10km out my bidon slipped out of my wet gloves onto the road. There was no way I could complete the ride on just one, so I stopped to retrieve it. It had landed in the worst possible place in the middle of the road with wave after wave of bikes swarming around. Riders, like lemmings, were throwing themselves one after another to their fates. They were scared to break formation and pace, lest they lose advantage. Only cries of “attencion” caused the disorganised streams to split like a mountain steam cascading around a rock. Like that ancient game of “Frogger”, I waited for a break in traffic, anxious as with each moment I was losing time and places. Eventually I secured the bottle and resumed the chase. Flying along, never leading, always following, I clawed back time and places until I was seeing riders numbered in the 6000’s again.

We turned sharply to the left and hit the brakes as there was a significant bottleneck through a village. The road was rough and had sections of cobbles forming traffic chicanes forcing us to walk. Already there had been a major crash with an ambulance stationed on a hill – lights flashing. We streamed past in a low gear, rubbernecking and trying not to be involved in our own pile-up, many jockeying for position. It was a low time slowly riding up the main road of this town in gentle drizzle, reminded of what lay ahead.

Soon, the road began to widen, and trains began to form. The flat profile on the ride description was misleading as the route actually took us over undulating forest. Gradient saw weaker riders (or those who were saving themselves) being passed. The roadside was littered with signs held up by cheering family who showed the same commitment as the riders in the rain. Small children cheered “Allez! Allez!” as their father and his friends clattered past. This was the real thing, both daunting and inspiring all at once. It felt like a real race and we like real racers.

Disaster struck a second time as we progressed to the first of the small descents perhaps an hour or so into the ride. It came after a short hill which caused riders to bunch up across the road. I recognised that as we descended, there would be trouble as the corners had to be tackled. A short sprint across the crest and initial descent saw me lead the small group down the greasy road. The rain continued to be in my eyes as we took a series of gentle curves. Those who ride with me will recognise that my descending style tends to be a little more committed, which perhaps reduces your options as you go down. I had set up a corner at speed, but accounted too late for a rider who had hit the brakes as he too saw the curve tightening. It was too late to do anything but to squeeze the levers tighter and hang on. There was a gentle thud as we bumped each other and my bars which had caught him twisted around. I over corrected and could feel the front wheel losing grip as the slippery tarmac afforded little traction. In slow motion I was down and on my left side, my hands still on the bars and my chin hitting the ground. The bike slid a few more metres, and came to rest in the centre of the road.

My instincts were to get off the road fast, and I was soon scrambling on my grip-less cleats. I watched as perhaps a hundred riders descended toward where I had just been. Cries of “Velo! Velo!” punctuated the racheting of freewheels as miraculously riders were able to swarm either side of the obstruction. A break in the flow allowed me to retrieve my bike. I feared that my ride was over as I inspected it quickly for damage. Apart from a twisted left brake lever, there was not much to see. It was then that I remembered that I had landed on my chin which was feeling ominously numb. Blood steadily dripped onto my bar tape as I walked to a safer spot. There was another rider here– Tim with an American accent – who I asked to have a look. He told me the gash was very deep and that I would need stitches. No more riders were coming down now, and with a shrug of my shoulders I hopped back on the bike, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of nowhere.

I actually felt energized as only a major adrenaline release can make you feel. Soon the road was flat and I was again passing with the assistance of swifter riders. The only annoyance was the continual red drip onto my handlebars and top tube. There was road spray everywhere and I worried about contamination of my wounds. I passed a familiar Ridley on the side of the road: it was Mark who had flatted his rear tyre. A few minutes of fiddling under the watchful eye of a French farmer looking over his front wall had Mark’s back tyre on. I got him to check me out – it didn’t look too bad he said. (He later admitted that in reality he thought the wound was quite deep, but since I looked like I wanted to continue the ride he’d take on an encouraging tone).

Re-invigorated by sugar and the rest we continued the pursuit. I chased with a pace that I had not put on for a while and made pleasing progress. I actually felt optimistic of avoiding the cut-off. With all the delays that had gone on that was a real concern. There was a short climb of 5kms at 5 percent. The stream of riders slowed as we wheezed up the hill. Uncharacteristically I actually kept pace and overtook on the hill (those who ride with me know that hills are not my forte). Again the roads were lined by families and friends who had turned out to cheer us on. I managed to give some a wave of recognition which elicited response of encouragement. I could not help feeling perturbed by the looks children gave me as I pedalled past with blood running down my jersey. Mark soon cruised past, but I was not far behind, and soon we were on the flat and descent again.

The next set of descents were not as technical, and although I had lost a bit of nerve, I knew that I could still progress adequately. Soon the road was flat and excellent progress could be made to the feed station in Lourdes. The pace had pretty much settled to a steady procession and the frenetic pace had the sharp edges knocked off. A short series of corners led us into central Lourdes where the water stop had been set up. My glasses had fogged after coming to a stand still as I made my way past masses to get water and jellied fruit. It was amazingly well organised as volunteers dispensed cans of drink, spooned out energy powder and ham sandwiches with croissants. I refuelled and thought about making a quick getaway when I spied the medical tent.

I thought that I should get a bandage, and get back on the road. I was still feeling quite good at this point and was looking forward to testing myself on some climbs. It was the look that the nurse gave me in the medical tent that told me my race was now over. She motioned me over to a trolley to lie down and fetched t
he doctor. He said that I could leave the bike here as I needed to be transferred to the hospital to get stitched up – they had no facilities to debride the wound in the tent. For a moment I actually thought that I might get away with asking for a bandage and soldiering on, but that would turn me into one of those patients who don’t follow instructions that I myself dislike. With a reluctant and disappointed sigh, I was bundled into a waiting ambulance for transfer with a temporary bandage in place . I tried to cheer myself up by taking a picture of the nurse in the ambulance, who also took one of me.

The hospital was quiet for a Sunday morning, but staffing had to cope with guys who had fallen earlier. I saw the tell tale slings of men who had done their collar bones, and a guy who was in a hard collar. It made me feel lucky that I could have actually ridden on after my spill. The ED Doctor was no nonsense but professional, as only someone who was mildly annoyed at having to do a Sunday shift would be. She was not a little intimidated at having to repair an urologist’s face: surely if he was stupid enough to go riding in the rain like a madman, he wouldn’t be too fussy. The drape was placed over my face, and a familiar process of cleaning and local anaesthetic injection had begun. All too often I had been on the other side of the drapes, thinking to myself “what sort of self destructive activity has this guy undertaken?”

Without fanfare, it was all over. An x-ray of my jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken and to inspect my expensive dental work, and I was turfed back on the street. The impact of how your bite aligns is very important — a detail most people don’t realise can cause jaw fatigue, tooth wear and even headaches. I sought specialist private orthodontic treatment and advanced dental alignment care when I noticed my teeth grinding worsening. The experience was reassuringly professional, and the results were transformative both in terms of how I look and how I feel day to day. It’s definitely worth considering for anyone struggling with similar symptoms.

My priority now was to get back to my bike which was a real danger in the rain on cobbled roads in my cleats. It was a distinct possibility that I would end up back in the hospital and in a wheelchair like the pilgrims that turned a disapproving look at my incongruous attire and still bloodstained jersey. Lost in the throng of nuns, priests and tourists, I eventually made my way with the assistance of a map back to the feed station. By this time the packing up was in full swing. All the tables were gone, and so was the mechanical assistance and medical tents. I scarcely recognised the place that had been an hour later packed with bikes, discarded mineral water bottles, and riders using walls as urinals. Panicked that I could not find my bike, and I was overcome by a real sinking feeling that it was not likely now that I’d be charged for overweight luggage on the way home.

The volunteers eating lunch in a large marquis saw me and motioned me over. “Manjare?” they motioned pointing to their mouths. I made cycling motions to indicate my bike was missing. A lady who spoke English came over and got me to sit down for lunch. Although they were in the process of packing away, some potato salad, cheese, ham and bread materialised. They sat me down and gradually I made them aware of my situation. They assured me that everything would be OK, and gave me a glass of red wine. On the bottle was the local cycle hero Hubert Arbes to whom I was introduced. He was responsible for the local organisation of the course and general rides through the Pyrenees. He shook my hand and I did not need a translator to understand their smiles. Hubert is a bit of a legend and had ridden the tour as a pro five times. His participation rides through the Pyrenees attract thousands of riders. Apart from doing all this and running a bike shop, he also manages the local cyclo-sportive chapter and seems to have the immense respect of his proud volunteers.
http://www.pyreneespursuits.com/scheduled_weekend_breaks_2.htm
http://www.la-hubert-arbes.fr.fm/

One lady got on the phone to track down my bike: it had been put on the sag wagon and was headed to the finish village. They could provide me with a lift to re-unite me with my bike! I was grateful for their hospitality and took a picture to commemorate their efforts. For me it is these people who live and breathe cycling, and have limitless hospitality who personify the spirit of Lourdes. Their genuine generosity is in contrast to the kitsch commercialism of the hotels and wall to wall cheap souvenir shops. My heart was warmed to these people who had rescued my day. I was soon in a car driven by a lady and her mother, to be reunited with my bike 15 km away at the base of the Hautacam.

Epilogue

Finally reunited with my bike, I checked it and found that someone had washed the handlebars and bar bag of the blood. It had been carefully packed and was fully serviceable. I had two options – to get a lift with my tour organisers, or to take a short ride back to Lourdes. I could have thrown it in, but the air was clear and the roads were drying. I felt cheated of my chance to climb the peaks and was angry at myself for my mistakes. I had to ride to clear my mind. On the way home I reflected on the day. Why is it we ride? Often in torrid conditions and suffering as a result of exertions, we persist. Some will do it simply for fitness. Others will do so for the moral superiority over the plodding obese masses. Many do so to compete against others for glory or bragging rights. We obsess over the high tech and lightness, fashion, and clamour for kudos at the coffee shop. Are we guilty of being coffee shop poseurs? There is a fine line between being competitive, and being consumed by the need to best others. I think sometimes we are guilty of these things to some extent where riding becomes more of a chore or a task then a pleasure. Today should have been about having a good time on the bike, testing oneself against the course, but it had turned into one where “failure” was an omnipresent threat.

I turned back home, liberated by the feeling that there was nothing more to lose, to enjoy the ride for what it was. The empty road, cool but not cold wind, the splendid scenery, the rolling hills, the sensation of speed and control over oneself and machine, were all there for me to take. I had to learn to be content with riding where there was both success in competition (as surely you would judge the achievement of the other boys), and a different success of the actual process of riding itself. The wind blew through the vents of my helmet, but did not chill (mainly because my x-rays were stuffed down my jersey making a very effective wind breaker like newspapers used by the cyclists of old) making the country feel alive and clean as my legs which had regained their strength and resolve powered to a sprint with no one to see. I had finally started to enjoy my day.

L’Etape du Tour 2008- Part 2

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Race report – By Jerard
After about 30 Kms, the packs started to thin out and I decided to push it a bit. A strong French boy who looked like a tri-athlete from the way he was riding came flying past me. I jumped on his wheel and stayed there for another 20 Kms, we lapped a lot of riders then. We were going at 40-45Kms/h.We got to Lourdes and the streets were lined up by cheering locals like in the proper tour. People of all ages were there under the rain encouraging riders with bells and calls of “Allez”. It was a great atmosphere and it makes you feel part of an important and special event. I didn’t stop at the first feeding station there as I was feeling fine and had not touched my GU’s and power bars yet.The course was undulating with hills of 4 to 5% gradients. I was feeling strong and my french domestique was spent and I went past him. I powered up the 2 small “blips” before the Tourmalet. In fact these are harder than what the picture below might suggest, I’d say like Kalamunda road.

A lot of riders started dropping off at this stage. Short descents with tight corners followed but it wasn’t raining much and you could see the beautiful country side then, it was awesome!.I eased off a bit as I knew what was coming….. THE Tourmalet.
The giant mountain of the Pyrenees was hidden under the clouds and nothing can prepare you for what was about to come!

The ascent of the Tourmalet is 23 Kms long. It starts gently at a gradient between 2-5 percent for the first 11 Kms. I stayed in a strong bunch of riders and did not do any work at the front. My heart rate was sitting at a healthy 140-145 bpm. I knew it will be harder later and wanted to pace myself.

Unfortunately for Todd he got pulled out of the race because he didn’t make the cut off time at the base of Tourmalet. His starting number was in the 8000’s so he had a handicap to start with. That’s why all these riders with higher numbers were racing past me at the beginning to avoid being stopped, I thought they were inexperienced and stupid! At 12 Kms from the village of Campan, things started to get serious. Let me mention it here that in cycling mad France, there are signs on the side of the road on all mountains telling you how long you have to go to the top as well as the gradient for the next kilometer.

The gradient picked up to 7 %, I was feeling OK, so far so good. Then it went up. From then on it was pure torture and agony! Unrelenting ascent which reads 8-8-8-10-9-10-9-9-9-9-9-8.5%

I have not experienced anything like it before. I have done the Mont Ventoux last year but it was all we did that day. This is an absolutely horrible climb after having been on the saddle for 100 Kms.

I kept my legs turning and maintained my heart rate around 160bpm, I did not want to blow up now because I knew that Hautacam was waiting for us at the end. It was cold and misty but there were loads of people on the side of the road cheering you on. Let me tell you this makes a HUGE difference to your morale and makes you ride through the pain. The majority of the riders were local boys and their friends and families were there urging them on. You could tell they’ve done their” Welshpool Road “ before.

Just when you thought you have covered few kilometers, you get that sinking feeling when the next sign shows you’ve only covered one and that the next km has a friendly 9% gradient. I had gone through 3-4 GU’s by then as well as a power bar. Half way up the mountain and I started to feel it! My legs started to go although my heart rate was around 150.

What the hell am I doing here? A long flight from Perth, a tiring drive through the Pyrenees two days earlier to climb a stupid mountain in the middle of the rain!

I tried to shake off negative thoughts and kept my focus on the road 10 m away. I decided to stop looking at the signs!

 

Later I learned that Schneiderman had another unlucky puncture half way up the Tourmalet. He could not get his pump to inflate his tire properly and asked the Mavic support van for assistance. He had to wait for his turn to come and lost a bit of time doing that. They changed his tube, sorted his tire and got him up and going again.

 

 

I then reached La Mongie which is a skiing station 4 Kms from the top. The road widens here and there was the second feeding station there. A lot of riders were filling up on food and drink. I thought about stopping to eat, but then I decided to save time as I still had a power bar and few GU’s in my back pocket. Mark did stop, had a sandwich / banana/ fruit gel and filled up on energy drink and water.Closer to the top, the smell of cows filled the air and the road was covered with their droppings! Beautiful, what more can you ask for.I was feeling spent then and it took an old woman on the side of the road to prevent me from stopping with “ Allez courage monsieur, juste 2 kilometres du col” ( Keep going, 2 kilometers to go)I don’t know how but I finally reached the top and felt exhausted. Nature called and it was the best feeling to do it at 2115 m altitude although you couldn’t see a thing below, the valley was covered with clouds . A lot of riders had stopped to have a rest. I ate my power bar, managed to get some water from the firemen there and filled my drink bottles because one of them was empty( I was using Cytomax, the energy drink I imported “legally” from the US and highly recommended by Mark DeCastro, it’s good stuff), put my wind jacket and started the descent of the Tourmalet.If the climb was excruciating, the descent was terrifying. The road was slippery, it was freezing cold and you couldn’t see a thing ahead. Those of us who did Ventoux last year know what I mean, only that it was longer, much longer! Your brakes become useless and your fingers ache so much that you have to release frequently to get some circulation through again. Will I see my kids again? I kept thinking in case I crash here as there were no road barriers, nothing between you and the bottom of the valley! Having said that, there were the local French riders flying past “a la DeCastro”, they obviously knew the road and what lies around the corner.

After the steep section, the gradient eases off a bit and the road is a bit wider. That part was the best bit as it had stopped raining and we were in the valley between Tourmalet and Hautacam. The scenery was breath taking and I felt like riding again. I took off my wind jacket and hammered it even though it was windy. I jumped from one passing train to the other and was do
ing over 40 km/h. I did brief stints at the front to catch the faster bunch ahead. I was loving it, Hautacam here I come.
The bottom of the climb is not too steep, between 2 and 5%. There was a group of 6 children doing the Mexican wave and an “Allez” with every passing rider.Then you take a right turn and it picks up suddenly to an 8% climb for 2 Kms. I had another GU and thought that’s it, only 15Kms to go. The gradient eased again and it was hard to get a rhythm going. Then came a left hand turn and holy Moses! If I thought the Tourmalet was tough, this was hell. The gradient remained between 8 and 10 % for 10 Kms and I had nothing left. Soon after I hit the wall, it was awful. Not stopping at the food station at the Tourmalet proved to be a very bad and stupid decision. If the professional riders need to eat then who am I, a part time social rider from South Perth Rouleurs, to ride 170 Kms without eating. What an idiot.No amount of GU could help here and I decided to do what a lot of riders were doing, stop. I stopped for a minute then took off again. 2 Kms later, I had to stop again. You could see the pain and agony on all riders faces, some had decided to walk up. A woman had stopped and started crying, not wanting to go on. The locals got her back on, gave her some water and pushed her up the hill. There were also the 60 year old men grinding it up, they must live down the road and do the Hautacam on a Sunday morning before church.. 4 Kms from the top there was a van selling drinks and I thought I was dreaming . Am I suffering from altitude sickness? I gave the guy a 50 euros note but he said he didn’t have change! I was happy to pay 50 euros for a can of coke then but he decided not to charge me for it, I must have looked really bad, A can of Coke never tasted so good.
I felt refreshed and took off with a renewed zest. I lapped few riders and finally saw the finish line in the mist on top of Hautacam. After over 7 hours on the saddle, I was about to finish the longest, the hardest and the best ride I have ever done. to As I crossed, I was handed my medal it was 14:45. I stared at 07:10 ( 7h35min total time). I wanted to do it in around 7 hours but I didn’t care. Rather than a sense of achievement, I felt relieved the ordeal was over. My computer read over 6000 calories used and I thought GU should be enough to take me up Hautacam!It was freezing cold and the top was packed with riders waiting to go down as they let you descend at intervals of few seconds to avoid the congestion on the road.Had a drink, put my wind jacket and long gloves on and went down. You descend the same way as you go up, so you could see the procession of exhausted riders going up. I kept looking out for Mark and Le Kuan but didn’t see them, I hope they’re OK I thought.
Back in the organizers van, I was told that Melvyn had a crash and was taken to the hospital but he was fine and back at the hotel ( see Part I). I was really worried and sent him an sms but got no reply. His bag and phone were still in the van. I felt sorry for him to have come all the way from Perth to miss out on the climbs. Maybe next time.I was given a hot drink and swallowed 2 sandwiches. We were driven back to the hotel with Todd and Linley and the other riders who were pulled off. The van would later make 2 more trips to bring back the rest as they come down Hautacam.I later caught up with Le Kuan at the hotel. He was very disappointed and upset with himself. I told him how painful it was to try and ease his pain. Schneiderman came later: he looked shattered but was happy he finished given how unlucky he was with two punctures.

We slept very well that night and had a big breakfast in the morning. Washed and packed the bikes and drove back to Barcelona, this time we took the highway through Tououse – Perpignan and down to Barcelona to save time. We talked about L’etape all the way back to Spain. If we nearly died doing one stage, how can these guys do it for 3 weeks! It’s incredible and gives you a perspective of what they go through. Maybe a bit of EPO is not a bad idea after all.
The French love the sport and seeing people of all ages lining the roads under the rain to cheer amateurs was unbelievable. It’s a different culture here and I can never imagine seeing that in Australia. Maybe I should retire here. I also realized that it’s not about the bike. To see old men riding up these mountains on old bikes makes me realize it’s about the sport, your fitness and determination. I won’t be wasting any money to save few grams anymore.It was an amazing experience and I highly recommend it. Will we do it again? I thought it was a crazy thing to do on top of Hautacam. Now I’m not so sure. It’s interesting how quickly you forget the pain. Maybe I’ll do it with Le Kuan one day as he missed out on this one. But next time, Le Kuan has to use his head on the descents, Mark will have to ride with different wheels and tires, and I have to remember to feed my brain.

sunday 6th july – patterson & peet & observatory

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ride report by peter.

well a freezing start to the morning and i was fully expecting that i would be the only idiot to toe the line. i was really surprised to find close to 20 riders all rugged up and ready to roll by the time i turned up there. the official temp for perth city was 0.9 deg at 7:30 which would have to be the coldest start we have had for a long time. i was wondering what the temp would be somewhere like antarctica and should we really be complaining. the davis base on the frozen continent reached -15.7 at 9:00am. it sounds cold and we should probably not complain, but i was sure i could have easily snapped my fingers off if i hit them against the handlebars. either that or my bars would break.

anyway, we had a good group with a couple of newbies and special guests so i knew it would be an interesting ride. josie (team flexpoint) was back on break from racing in europe and had brought her boyfriend, cj (slipstream-chipotle) along for the ride. we also had jordan who is a young “a” grade rider from perth and a couple of the top younger female cyclists in perth in mel and bella. to round it out, we had a bunch of our usual cast to balance the entire group’s ability back to average.

the course today would be a brutal one in any weather, but the freezing temps made it even more difficult. we would travel down towards armadale before turning up brookton hwy for a short spell to lead us to the foot of our first climb. patterson rd is a short-ish climb that would make for a good finish in a one-day classic in belgium. i have renamed this hill and i will explain why later. after that heart starter, we then travel up canns rd before taking a quick decent down soldiers rd which takes us back to brookton hwy. across the road to peet but we don’t climb right to the top instead turn up urch and meet up at the top of the kahuna climb. travel the usual way back to pickering brook, before heading up around the observatory and then up mundaring weir rd to kalamunda. so with five main climbs plus some bonus’ it will be a loooong but productive day.

so we were about to roll out and carlo had to duck off for a quick pee but we eventually set off to try to get warm. it was interesting, as we past through suburbia, how the temperature changed as we ran through dips and hollows. i had opted out of leg warmers but had double gloves and booty covers on as well as a wind proof jacket. my legs were not too bad but by the time we got down to kelmscott, i couldn’t feel my fingers or toes properly. it actually made it hard to change gears as i couldn’t feel which lever i was touching.

just before kelmscott we had to slow the pace right down. carlo needed another pee. instead of stopping to watch him, we just dropped the pace right down to allow him time to chase back on.

we did a short stint on brookton hwy before turning off behind the big orange shed to encounter the hell that is patterson rd, mt nasura. usually we head up over carawatha, but this gives a slight variation and a much harder climb. the whole climb is probably just over 500 metres, but kicks up so sharply that if you stall the bike, you will have trouble getting started again. rob and jordan were at the front as the road turned and some people got their first glimpse of the hill. it is instantly into the easiest gear you have and just grind it out till you hit the top. i was struggling from the start and the one hour ride to get to this point had not really warmed me up much. it may have had something to do with the cold morning…

anyway, i was past by a number of riders but was grateful that when cj past by he commented on the steepness of the hill. it was good to know that even a pro can find our climbs hard. well probably not hard, but challenging. it was hard for me and i watched jordan, cj and ryan fight it out for line honors as they crested the hill and rode out of sight. my arms were hurting from pulling up on the bars so much but i managed to grind it out and reach the top. after finding a patch of sunlight to try to thaw, we regrouped and headed to the next bit of fun. as for the name, this hill will now be known as the f_ckinberg.

canns rd was our next climb and we all started it together in a nice pack. from the front, rob and myself began to up the pace until we split the pack in two. jordan eventually came around and began to step up the pace further. i’m not sure what it was but i started to feel a tightness in my left quad when i need to apply more power. whether it was the cold, a cramp or whether i had damaged it on that first climb when my muscles were not entirely warm, was hard to tell. it hurt so i had to back off. a number of riders came past me as we continued up the hill, but i wasn’t too concerned as i was more worried about my leg. by the time i reached to top at a easier pace, the pain had subsided and i put it down to a cold cramp.

regroup. headed off down churchman brook rd which becomes the wonderful decent of soldiers rd. the road was nice and the decent was fast but not without its issues. the main one was what could only be described as an ice-cream headache. the wind-chill across the skull combined with the fact that the sun had not quite reached that part of the valley, meant a very cold decent.

a quick regroup to make sure everyone made it back to brookton hwy and we were off up peet rd. rob and ben made a quick start and headed up the road in front of everyone else. we started to step it up and i came around jordan to chase down the other two. as we came past, jordan stepped it up again and pulled a gap. i had nothing to go with him but rob came around with cj to chase him down. ben and i rode tempo to finish off the peet rd section before turning onto urch. ryan was not feeling 100% today and was hanging a bit behind us on the climb. as the road stepped up again on urch, my left quad problem came back to visit. i had to back off and this allowed ben to come past, followed by carlo and ryan not long after. meanwhile, rob was giving jordan a run for his money and it was good to see rob climbing so well.

i managed to hold it together till the end and was grateful for the rest while regrouping. mel turned up on a soft rear tire so we spent a bit longer watching her change it… with a bit of help from cj.

the rolling hills between here and pickering brook posed no real problems and no-one was really on the attack as we had two main climbs to go. as we hit the base of the other patterson rd and began the climb to the observatory, carlo shot off the front and took a large gap over the rest of us. no-one chased and we held together and took a nice tempo which broke it down into a select group of about eight. eventually cj and jordan held the front and paced us along the hill. as it wore on, you could see carlo start to look behind himself and was obviously slowing down. on the last pinch of the climb, the pace stepped up again and i had to unhitch. i left the boys reel in carlo and fight it out for line honors which went to ryan.

another fast decent and we were on our final climb of the day. michael and emma had turned off after the observatory as emma was on shift and they needed to get home. the pace was on and it was way too much for me and i very quickly fell off the back. a group of about 5 or 6 headed off up the road and i was caught by ben who also set a pace higher than i could manage. setting myself a tempo, i ground out the rest of the climb to make the final regroup for coffee. according to ryan, he managed to take them on
the final pinch for line honors.

an extended coffee stop and luckily the day had started to warm up so it wasn’t too bad sitting outside. cj asked if i was drunk when i came up with this route as even he thought it was particularly brutal. i said that i set it when i was a lot fitter than i am now. anyway, we left jordan, cj and josie as they were going to do extra km’s and it was beginning to get late. it was good to catch up with them as they are not in the country as much anymore and it is always good to have some of our boys pushed a bit harder by better riders.

so we had a good decent on welshpool rd as the practically windless day caused no problems. bella pushed hard to chase down some of the guys but no landspeed records were broken. the return to town was relatively uneventful with the required sprint up to macdonalds in vic park being to main event. ryan again, i believe. heading towards the final sprint to macdonalds in south perth i jumped on the front to set the pace along berwick rd. as we crested the final hill, bec and sam pushed around me but had ryan tucked neatly in behind so he had an easy final push for the line.

so, around 105km by the time i got home and over 1300m of climbing. a good day but i am a bit disappointed in my current level of fitness and will have to do a lot more work to get back in form.

UPDATE
a bit of video from going up peet rd. jordan is the rider in shot for most of it and cj is the orange and blue rider a bit further back. i would like to say that i kicked both their arses going up the hill, but the video does not go long enough to see me fall off the back and ride the rest of the hill on my own.

saturday 5th june – scarborough beach rd

with a nice downpour just 30 minutes prior to our normal kick off time, i expected that a few people may have decided to stay in bed instead. we had close to 20 or so riders which is a nice manageable number especially if the roads are wet. i didn’t get any rain on me on the way to the start, but brett was coming from the other direction, and got hammered as he came through belmont. i did check the radar before i left home and i was pretty sure that we would not get hit with any other storms.

the route today was an old favorite with scarborough beach rd being the main focal point. we would head steadily around mounts bay rd and up around kings park via thomas rd. this would eventually bolt onto scarborough beach rd where we would step up the pace a bit. home via west coast hwy and dalkeith would also add another two fast sections.

we rolled out at a nice easy pace and found our way past the coffee shop and onto mounts bay rd. i got to talk to a new guy, kim, who is a friend of ryan’s and who also won a copy of the tour de france guide with his haiku entry. good to see some new riders coming out, especially when the weather is not that pleasant.

as we headed up thomas rd and the constant climb that it contains, i noticed lisa was struggling a bit and was falling off the back. i was already dropping back to see how the field was doing, so i fell in along side her. she had been to the track on friday night and was now feeling the effects of that session. she told me to go ahead, but i thought that we should be right and would catch up with the main field. unfortunately we caught almost every light along thomas and loftus and would only just get them in sight, before we got caught again. just as we hit scarborough beach rd, michael had slowed up to give a hand.

john also appeared out of nowhere and jumped on to give a hand. we basically had michael and john on the front and me pushing lisa when she started to struggle. again, we almost caught the field a number of times but would always get stymied by the traffic lights. when we hit the rolling hills section that the main field would have stepped up the pace, lisa told us to go ahead, as she was not coping well. i would not normally do that, but she said that she lived close by and new the area and any shortcuts.

we accelerated and tried to catch the other guys before the hit west coast hwy. michael fell off the back as we put the pace on so john and i took turns along all the rolling hills that make up that stretch of road. at the coffee shop, some of the guys did comment on how deceptively hilly that section of road was and how you think that you have finished all the hills, when one more appears.

we regrouped on west coast hwy and set off with a stiff breeze coming across our right shoulder off the ocean. again a nice steady pace along the highway until we past oceanic drive. i had said in the morning briefing that once we past that point, we could go hard again, until we hit the swanbourne shops. we were held up at the lights, so i reminded everyone that it would be on again, and as soon as the lights changed we were off. john and nick took off from the gun and managed to gap the field a bit. i was sitting mid pack and was letting the group stretch out a bit before deciding what i would do. a few gaps opened up as people’s abilities were stretched so i came around and began to chase down nick.

a quick look around and i noticed a number of riders hanging off my slipstream as i time trialed up the road. i caught nick and came around him to chase down john. my shadows fell off once i caught nick as they all fell into step behind him. i caught john and came past him too but he quickly jumped on behind. we started to do turns to try to keep away from everyone but stu managed to bridge the gap too.

the three of us worked together for a while, but we were caught by christophe and nick before the end. it was a good hit out though, and i was pleased of my performance after a couple of bad saturday morning rides. another regroup before we headed off again for the final hit out through dalkeith.

as we approached the lights at the stirling hwy intersection, we had a small split and the lights allowed about 6 or so riders through. i expected them to wait for us, but instead, they took advantage of the situation to try to keep away from us. darren did quite a bit of work on the front before ben and i started swapping off turns to try to pull the break back. we had almost caught them by the time we hit the sharp left hander onto jutland pde, but i started to fade and let the rest of the field go.

i managed to grab a couple of wheels and got a bit of a rest before the small rises that usually sort things out. i came off johns wheel and powered up the climb so that i could just keep the front guys in sight. we rolled down past steve’s pub and the majority of the group were back together by the time we reached mounts bay rd.

it started to line out early as the pace was on with the tailwind. michael and i noticed that graeme brown was unfortunately heading the other way on mounts bay rd. he would have been able to give ryan a run for his money being a protour sprinter and all.

anyway, i was sitting towards the back and thought i better move up when i saw a gap open up ahead of carl. this positioned me closer to the front, but still behind ryan and some others. there was some moves and next thing i know i am sitting second wheel behind nick who was burying himself on the front again. he started to fade after a long turn on the front, so i came around him but decided not to go full pace. i wanted to leave something in reserve and not long after, john sprinted past with ben on his wheel. i jumped up and managed to hold the wheel, but then john ran out of puff so i had to switch to ben. ryan came flashing past, and ben and i both tried to up the pack but to no avail. we both sat back down and watched ryan take line honors by a long stretch.

a nice stop for coffee and we managed to get in before the main storm front came through. we gave out our haiku prizes to the deserving winners and i also managed to drum up a bit more business for the tour de france tipping contest. so a good ride today with lots of hard and fast sections to test the legs. lisa did manage to make it to the coffee shop but she said it took a lot of self control as she past by her house and thought about turning off early. lorraine met us for coffee and to deliver the prizes and some coffee bean orders from the hardcore coffee crew. it will be good to see her back on the bike soon.

cyclo-sportif – swan valley

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race report by peter.

so today was the first cyclo-sportif race that didn’t clash with any other wacf race and we took advantage of it. it was nice and close and would be the flattest course available across the season. last year this race was both a success and a disaster for the organisors. they had their biggest turn out with over 600 riders, but it was also the day one of the worst storm to hit perth happened. rain was belting in sideways and a few people were blown off their bikes. this year they had over 800 riders register and the rain that did hit was nowhere near as cyclonic as last year. starting at the velodrome in midland, the groups first had to roll out to the actual course which was over the other side of the roe hwy at herne hill. once there, the circuit required five laps for us to complete the 78kms. it was unfortunately not just a nice rectangular circuit but had a number of left and right turns that would complicate things during the race.

but before we jump ahead to far, how did we get there. well we had a team of eight riders registered. this was great as the maximum allowed was nine, so we would have enough people to share the load. the team consisted of the usual race boys; myself, michael, chris, mark, ryan, jerry, stan and bruce. by saturday arvo i had received a text from bruce saying that he would not be available to race. on the way to the venue i received a call from stan saying that as his wife was due this coming friday, he was not coming either. so we were down to six. since our south perth kits had not yet arrived, we raced under the old rio tinto colours as this is who we raced for last year, and i could get enough jerseys to make sure the team was all wearing the same.

the intermittent showers that sprinkled us on saturday, persisted into sunday and the radar showed a number of them heading our way. they were not too bad though and would pass quickly. we registered, kitted up and headed out to the real start point. with over 800 rider in over 100 teams, they needed to start the teams at 30 second intervals.

maybe i should explain just what cyclo-sportif is and why it is so popular. it is touted as participation not racing and as such is structured so that there are no winners. the format is basic team time trial, but you must finish with all the riders you started with (barring injury or serious mechanical). so if someone is slow on the hills, you wait for them; if they get a flat you wait for them. this format is so very popular as anyone can enter and you get to ride with the people you like rather than a basic group race. times are posted, but not ordered and you actually need to import them into excel and reorder them to see how well you did. it offers all abilities something and hence it’s popularity has grown.

the core of our team had been doing these types of races for three years and it took us a while, but we finally got it together to learn to stick together. this meant pushing weaker riders up hills and a lot of yelling to make sure people knew what was going on. our strategy was simple. single file, 30 sec to a minute on the front, then peel off and jump on the back. this allowed us to go the fastest, and people could regulate their time on the front depending how buggered/fresh they were. it also meant that even if you did a 10 sec turn, that was a rest that someone else was getting.

the teams are ordered, based on their previous performance. as we had not raced this season, the organisors would not have any idea where to put us, but as we were a rio tinto team, they would probably use the other rio teams previous time. we ended up mid pack about eight minutes back from the other rio team. this was good and bad for us. good, cause i didn’t think that there would be any other teams that would pass us as most of the really good teams would start last. bad, cause we would not have as much clear road ahead of us.

our race number was “kk”. it starts at “a”, completes the alphabet, moves to double letter, then moves back to numbers. for the other distances (60ish and 30ish) they use different coloured numbers. what it really meant was a lot of congestion.

at the start line, gary suckling did the race commentary and introduced the teams. in three years he has never been able to pronounce my name properly. i mean, it is only three letters so it can’t really be that hard, but i have never heard him say it the same way twice. soon, we were off.

the cold that my young lad had given me on thursday was being held at bay by the cold and flu tablets that had formed part of my healthy breakfast. i was feeling good and ready to go hard. we past the team that started 30 sec ahead of us before we even hit the first corner. picked up two more before the back straight and kept passing teams the whole way around the first lap. i was totally unsure of the wind direction as we seemed to doing over 40km/h up the rolling hills of the back straight. a couple of the boys had the early ride struggles and we had to back off a bit but were still going relatively hard. the first lap was really just to get to know the course as i had not done it before. i really was not expecting so many corners and had not really researched the race too well. very unlike me.

we were being held up on many of the corners as it was unsafe to try to slip by some of the less skillful teams with the damp road conditions. there was a lot of yelling going on as we had to warn a lot of teams that we were coming past. as approached the finish of the first lap, i saw up the road that they were still starting the shorter distance teams. damn, there were a lot of people riding today.

sometime on the second lap, it started to rain. it also brought about a change in the wind as it picked up to throw the rain in our faces. it became a crosswind on some of the straights and we had to echelon across the road in order to maintain speed. this proved difficult in two respects. we had to continuously pull back into single file to pass other groups, especially those that were all over the road. and the constant corners and changes of direction meant that we had to form off to the left, then the right and back again. this meant a lot more yelling from the bunch to make sure everyone was in the right spot.

halfway down the back straight, michael informs us that his rear tyre is going down. protocol required us to all wait for him as he changed the tube. he suggested we treat it more like a criterium and he will sit out a lap and we can pick him up next lap. fine with us, we powered on.

more teams were overtaken and it was hard to know where we really stood as no-one was catching us. on the back straight of lap three we past the other rio tinto team who had an eight minute head start on us. we had expected to pass them but it was a good gauge of how we were going. a little bit later we picked up michael from the side of the road.

lap four began to not feel as good for me. the first three laps were ace. i wished i felt like that more often. the only memorial part of lap four was mark putting his head down when on the front and missing a marshal indicating for us to turn. we all turned, he sent straight. he didn’t get far before realising his mistake, but he was hammering along before the corner. we all thought that he was going to take it too fast.

at the start of lap five, the final lap, we caught group “gg” who looked like they had stopped for a mechanical. we past them by but not long after they past us back again. with a full complement of riders, they were fresher than us and managed to keep on going. ryan wa
nted to pass them back, but i was on my limit and some of the other guys were not going to go any faster. he was very disappointed, but he was not feeling what my legs were feeling, which was pure crap.

the final lap involved a lot of yelling to slow down as my quads had started to cramp if i got out of the saddle. i was having trouble holding a wheel and was really running out of steam. the final couple of km’s were an absolute struggle and ryan had to drop back to help me. we ended up riding two abreast to block the wind and get everybody home. we finished in 2hr 06min according to my clock and had cover 80kms at an average of 38.3 km/hr. the official results had not come out yet, so this may change.

a slow ride back to the velodrome where we at least get changed out of the rain. the track racing was well under way and there were stalls from all the major bike shops in town. as we were passing through, josie had her wheelrace heat and her boyfriend, cj sutton was pushing her for the start. we watched her race then grabbed our meal and sat down to watch the rest of the events. in the final of the wheelrace the scratchmen were both riding for european pro teams and cj buried himself to lead out graeme brown back to the main pack. brownie had an enourmous turn of speed and past almost everyone except one new zealand rider who hung on for the win.

so we will only be available for three of the races this year and our first was quite a good hit out. next race we will be riding under the south perth rouleurs banner and i hope to get a few more of the guys involved across a few teams so we can get our group out there.

saturday 28th june – cresswell & herdsman

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ride report by peter

rain, rain go away. wait till i have stopped riding… you bastard. i know it doesn’t rhyme, but i don’t care. i wanted a nice ride today. and despite the rain it was quite a good ride. only a handful of hardcore riders braved the elements and it was not raining when we left the carpark. probably 15 riders all up, but we had to wait a bit longer for some to arrive.

it was another new route today, but really just an old one that we hadn’t done for a while. similar to the tv stations ride, this would take us out grand prome but turn off before morley dr. another small detour and we would come up past the yokine golf course before heading over for a lap of herdsman lake. back down to dalkeith and the usual sprint home.

the roads were wet from the previous showers and i was glad to be at the front as you didn’t get as much spray in your face. we took it easy out great eastern and over the river at ascot. a few more showers made it interesting but not too bad for me as i had my bright orange rain jacket on. a few close calls at the lights with wet brakes made it tricky, and we probably went through a couple we shouldn’t have, to avoid a mass pile-up instead.

the cresswell hill adjacent to the yokine golf course used to be a favourite of vicki and her wednesday morning hell sessions. it is a stepped climb which means you can set intervals at each point in the climb. i.e. hard, harder, spew. today i was taking it easy as i have come down with a head cold and am supposed to be racing a cyclo-sportif event tomorrow. i made sure ryan knew were to regroup and then let them loose on the hill. not unexpectedly, ryan was first to the top with jerry (who is claiming to be sick) not far behind.

a slight change to the route as we went straight out to flinders to do a right hand onto royal. next time i will stick to the original as i think it would cause less problems. we took it easy along royal and main streets but the pace began to pick up once we started out lap of herdsman. similar to last week i had not picked a spot to go hard as i couldn’t quite remember the route. however, this stretch around herdsman is ideal as it is double lane and a good road surface the whole way around. there are a number of traffic lights but this can be both good and bad as it may slow the breakaways or hinder the chasers. this time we stayed together the whole way, but is was getting a bit rough towards the end for some of the weaker riders.

we turned onto shelby st and took it easy as we headed towards shenton park. a slight diversion due to road works but we were still headed in the right direction and turned done past the claremont hotel. once we hit the familiar territory of victoria ave, the boys started to pace it up a bit. a couple of extras caught up to our group and suddenly everyone wanted to show how strong they were. ryan managed to smash them up the small rises on birdwood parade to show who was boss and we all scampered after him on the decent.

by the time we hit mounts bay rd the “extras” had turned off onto the bike track even though they were heading in the same direction. we started single file pretty early and nick was on the front pushing a hard pace from the outset. after a while i came past him to do a long turn as no-one else was keen to play. i still had no sprint, so my job is to be domestique and just ride hard and consistant. nick eventually came back past me and went off the front hard. i couldn’t hold his wheel so i gave a flick of the arm to let the next person through. there was a hesitation which allowed nick a bit more space and i thought he may get away. we were not that far from the finish, so he may have had enough of a break. pretty soon, everyone came crashing past me and mowed nick down in their path. ryan held off jerry again for the line honors, and i past a completely spent nick as both we limped our way to the coffee shop.
the rain had stopped by now and it was looking to be a beautiful day. a quick hot chocolate and a bit of discussion about the new kit and launch breakfast coming up and i was on my way. the bike now filthy and no real time to clean it properly before the race tomorrow, i will have to hope the quick wipe and lube keeps the chain going. there should still be a ride tomorrow, for those that aren’t racing, and i have mapped out the kahuna for you… cause i won’t be there.

the picture is of darrens wet weather bike. even though he has the record for the lightest bike, he rides this 11kg monster, with full mudguards, when the rain sets in. i think his light bike will dissolve if it gets wet.

how did i get here???

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by peter

so i was on a plane this morning (tuesday), after getting up at 4:00am, and as we were coming into land, i saw my old house in paraburdoo. it got me thinking about bike riding and how i got to were i am today (which is a long journey to not get very far). i was prompted due to the fact that i remember organising groups to go riding when i lived up in the pilbara. the groups weren’t big and half the time it meant mountain biking, but it was more about the riding than what we were riding.

so, shall i go back further. how did i start riding??? growing up in western victoria in hamilton, a city of around 10,000 people, the majority of the guys i went to school with all did the usual footy or cricket. when i hit year seven, i was not yet 30kg so i would have been smashed playing any contact sports and wasn’t wide enough to cover one stump in cricket. i did karate for about four or so years, but have never thrown a punch in anger and probably wouldn’t remember how to now.

a mate that i had know for many years started talking about cycling as his dad used to do quite a lot in his time. we both had very basic “ten speed” bikes but we started to do rides around the district, probably going a whopping 30km in one hit. my aunty used to have a holiday house in the grampians, which is a fairly big national park in western victoria. it was only 90km away from us so we started going there during summer and would spend a week riding in the “mountains”. these are nowhere near as big as the mountains in europe, but are bigger than what we get in perth.

so, this was really about the time i had my growth spurt and shot up so instead of the skinny, weedy kid, i was now the skinny, weedy taller then most of my classmates kid. we started doing more rides but had no idea what we were doing. standard kit was tracky pants and t-shirts and no helmets as the laws hadn’t come in yet. it was around the time that greg lemond was racing and we both painted our bikes in a three colour blend going from yellow thru orange to red. cool.

i remember some of our first hills rides in the grampians. i have no idea how steep the climbs were as i have not ridden them for so long, but they were so long and we had to take lots of breaks on the way up. in reality the total climb was about 11kms and it was not a consistent grade the whole way up as it had many flat spots. it took us about 2½ hours to get to the top and about 20 mins to get back down. 2½ hours to do 11km!!! i’m sure i could do that with the kiddy trailer and the mountain bike nowadays.

so, i finished high school and moved away to uni but kept my riding up. had been riding my re-painted repco traveller 10 speed up until then when my parents bought me a repco superlite 12 speed. i think it cost close to $500 which was quite a lot of money for our family. i started to increase my mileage and often went exploring the district on the weekends and when my uni schedule allowed it. bike knicks were not really in vogue like they are today and i was wearing those adidas three stripe cut off shorts. well not even real adidas. we couldn’t afford them so mum was a dab hand at the sewing machine and striped me up some fake adidas.

so doing more and more and i started getting to the point where i thought that maybe i could do some racing. i had always been of the opinion that i was not good enough, but had now upgraded to proper cycle kit and shoes with toe clips. if as a new cyclist you had been afraid of clipless pedals, you should try these things. think normal pedals and toe clips, but add a shoe that had a ridged sole and a notched cleat that bites down onto the pedal edge. none of this twist your foot to get out. you had to be aware as you approached an intersection, and reach down to loosen a strap and get your foot out before you stopped. then you had to make sure that you leant over on the side you released or you were in bigger trouble.

so, racing in ballarat. i turned up to my first ever bike race (i had done some team triathlons previously) and was put in “c” grade as i had no experience at riding in a group. the race was a whole 20km and i had done over 100km in training the previous week. i felt i was ready. the group was about 20 riders and i loved the sound we made as we coasted down a hill. yes, i was such a group riding virgin that i had never heard that sound before. we started doing that whole rolling through thing and it was a new experience for me and quite scary as there were other riders around. the basic circuit had no real hills and took us back to the start line for the group sprint. i had no idea what i was doing and got boxed in on the left as the group started to move. i just stopped pedalling and waited for the group to roll past then came around on the right and past everyone to take the win. wow, i was still in my small chain ring. how easy is this riding thing i thought as i rolled around to cool down and have a spew (pushed a bit too hard). next week, they put me in “b” grade. i got smashed every week until towards the end of the season, when i convinced them to put me back into “c” grade.

after a couple of seasons i finally gave up as i really didn’t like the early morning ballarat rides in the rain, sleet and hail. i kept riding but didn’t take it as seriously as i should have. decisions like that are so easy to make when you are 21.

finished my degree and eventually got a real job in the pilbara. moved up to paraburdoo in 1996 and brought my bikes with me. now para is that small that it doesn’t have a taxi service as you can walk from one side to the other quite easily. it also has only three sealed roads leading out of town. one went 80kms to tom price, one went 7kms to the mine (with an offshoot) and the other went 200 odd kms to the main coast road. there were also lots of tracks thru the bush but they were of varying quality and very hard and sharp when you came off.

so, i had upgraded by then and was now riding a second hand peugot ventoux frame that i had bought of the mate who got me into cycling. i was still on down-tube shifters but now on 14 speed gears, and running shimano exage. rides involved up to the airport and back along the tom price road (20km round trip) or along the mine road and off shoot to the channar mine gate (15km round trip but with a hill) or some distance out the main road out of town. the real problem is that there are no places to stop and get water and the temp in summer was usually over 40 deg every day and dropped down to 30 deg during the night. most rides usually involved a lot of sweating.

started doing a lot more mountain biking around now as the boring roads made for boring rides. i had upgraded from a apollo no suspension cheap and crappy bike to a giant atx 890 with full suspension. i thought it was so cool, but it wasn’t really that good. i guess this is where the organisational skills started to come to the fore as up in the pilbara, if you don’t do it, no-one else will. i started convincing workmates to come out riding with me and soon we were getting trashed on all the trails around the town and some exploration drill tracks near the mine. i can remember one ride that we did where we didn’t head out till 3pm and within ½ hour my brake levers were so hot, i couldn’t touch them for prolonged periods.

i discovered a few guys that liked road riding, so we started heading out on regular rides after work and on the weekend. again, they weren’t long, but we managed to get more and more people involved. i had upgraded again and was now riding the cannondale caad 3 that i had when i first turn
ed up in perth. however, i had also managed to upgrade all the running gear by doing a bit at a time. strangely enough, it would have cost a lot less if i had bought a whole new bike, but it was easier to pass by the financial manager that way. i had also managed to convince a number of other guys to get new road bikes and they found they could go longer and faster. some of those guys are still riding now, while others have lost the love for the bike.

after 5½ years of sucking in the red dirt of the pilbara, we jumped right across the country to the lovely hunter valley. i was back to riding by myself again as there was no organised group that i could find in singleton. the funny thing about singleton was that even though it was a much bigger town than paraburdoo, there was less happening as people didn’t have too. just down the road was maitland with 80,000 and newcastle with over 400,000 people. so if you needed anything, or wanted to do anything, you just went down there. so it was back to exploring the countryside again.

being a decent farming area there were lots of roads to discover and lots of little towns to ride between. it definitely didn’t feel as isolated as para… or as hot. it was a surprise to me one day as I rode down the hill, that was the only sealed entrance into my suburb, that I came across a group of cyclists waiting at the side of the road. I stopped and turned back to them. asked if I could join them and started doing some group rides. they weren’t long, but it was good to be able to ride along and have a chat to someone for a change. they also showed me some new roads and a few climbs in the area. half of the group belonged to the triathlon club, but I wasn’t interested as I was a cyclist.

every year, there was a corporate triathlon in newcastle and a lot of the mining companies had teams and individuals entered. i entered with another guy who was keen to swim and run but not ride. it was the typical sprint distance race over there and was only a 500m/20km/5km event. there were lots of guys that trained up for ages just to do a 20km ride in this event, but i could see that it was a big achievement for some. i still had no interest in doing a triathlon all myself. running and swimming sucked.

so over the following winter the cycling seemed to fall away a bit but some of the guys and girls i worked with were training up for the city2surf in sydney. for lack of any other exercise, i started running with them and was soon doing 5km runs. it hurt like all crap and i used to have to run with a knee brace after a few years of playing basketball in both ballarat and paraburdoo. soon my body got used to it and even though i didn’t run the city2surf, i kept the running up. it kind of occurred to me that if i just learnt to swim 500m then i could actually do a triathlon.

down to the indoor pool we went and i had a crack at this swimming thing. the thing about learning to swim as a kid compared to learning to swim as a 30 year old, is that you just seem to be crap from the start and don’t get any better. i really struggled with swimming and could only do two laps of a 25m pool before needed to take a break. i was so inefficient that it was just killing me. anyway, this is more about the cycling, so i got better, did some triathlons and was soon training up for a half ironman. there were four of us that all worked together at the mine and all lived within about 500m of each other. perfect training partners.

i started organising our training by reading lots of stuff in magazines and online and trying to implement whatever i could. i had a lot more kilometres in my riding legs and would use that to my advantage in races. i was last out of the water but would pass my mates then run until they all past me again. occasionally i could hold them off to the end.

the organisation wasn’t just limited to these training buddies and cycling. soon we had about 15 people turn up to our house after work to go for runs in the evening. i would map out courses and make allowances for the slower runners to take short-cuts and put in enough hills for the stronger runners. then when summer finished and daylight savings ended (hey, it works on the other side of the country) i started mapping out new routes that had adequate street lighting to make sure the girls were not running through scary dark patches.

by then i was also organising that group of guys that i had bumped into early one cold morning on my way out by myself. our rides were getting longer and talking in more climbs, but i always made allowances for people to be able to take shortcuts if they needed to or time for them to regroup.

after a half ironman and a number of sprint and other distance races, we made the move to perth. i thought my riding was going pretty well but i was in for a rude shock. in typical move fashion, we were living out of a suitcase for a number of weeks. we had access to our early release items from the removalists, and in my case this included my bike and all my riding gear.

i did a search on the web and found the excellent wa triathlon website. it had stacks of info and a forum that seemed to be constantly updated. i posted a note to say that i was new to town and needed to know where to ride south of the river. within about two hours there was about four or five replies saying to head to the south perth bike shop and see gary and vicki. someone even posted their phone number so i could call him if i needed extra info. a very friendly and trusting town i thought. anyway, i turned up to the bike shop and met simon, who let me know what the go was with group rides and bike paths etc around perth. i showed up on saturday not knowing what to expect. it was bad.

not a bad ride. not a bad group. not bad organisation. it was bad cause i thought that i was a better rider than i was. i got dropped. dropped bad in a new town with no idea where i was or where we were going. i now know that we were coming past rebold hill and turned onto west coast hwy and then took the usual way home past the swanbourne shops. i got dropped on one of the hills and then got caught at the lights. by the time i got to west coast hwy i couldn’t even see the group. i rode my little arse off and saw another rider just in front of me. suddenly they turned and i almost missed them. i spotted him out the corner of my eye and quickly turned up past the swanbourne shops. i eventually caught up with him and it turned out to be wayne who had also been dropped. at least i was now with someone who knew where they were going.

it may be because of incidents like that, that i insist on regroup points along the way. it probably fits into the same category of stopping when you see someone with a flat tyre as you may be in the same situation one day.

anyway, i kept the riding going and also found a couple of the guys that i had ridden with in the pilbara were also now in perth. my first hills experience was not a good one. rob h and michael w took me out for my hills induction and we went a now familiar course. being a small group we went via the midland bike track and out to the bottom of the zig zag. from kalamunda we went to mundaring then back down through darlington. i didn’t fair too well. it was 110km by the time i got home but even before that i was struggling. the last 1½ hours were a bit of a blur for me as i was on auto pilot just trying to hold a wheel. the guys had to continuously slow down whenever there was a small rise in the bike path as i kept falling off the back. i eventually got home safely but probably scarred for life.

for me the triathlons kept going, though i was struggling a lot with training as i was missing my training buddies.
there were not too many from the south perth group that did tri’s so i was pretty much on my own. early morning runs and rides with evening swims were part of the build up to the half ironman in busso each year. i managed to convince the financial manager to let me buy a triathlon specific bike and scored a full carbo quintana roo lucero. nice bike. it’s amazing how much more power you can put out on a triathlon specific frame. i also started to go to vicki’s wednesday morning sessions which at the time where still leaving from the shop. it was all interval based work with sprints, hill repeats, the dreaded one legged drills and a lot of yelling… at you. i found it good as it focussed on particular things and probably did quite a bit at improving me as a cyclist.

so, even though i was focussing more on triathlons, i managed to negotiate a new road bike. this was under the assumption that as we were expecting our first child, it may be the last bike i get for a long, long time. i ended up with the fondriest domino plus that i am on today, but like most things, am always wanting to upgrade. that is a different story though.

by now we had started to develop the sunday ride a bit further. we had increased the ride from the usual, one climb and coffee, to up to four climbs and over 1,000m of vertical ascent before the coffee and then a 30km trip home. i think this happened due to simon not always being there for the sunday ride and everyone turning up wondering where we can ride. after a few times of semi-argument of where to go, i found that if you rocked up with a plan and just told everyone where you were riding, people didn’t question it. i would often talk to michael w during the week to work out where we should ride but this soon developed into the mapmyride routes that we are using today.

gary and vicki had sold the shop and soon it became simon’s saturday ride and my sunday ride by default. i had stopped the triathlon training but was still doing vicki’s wednesday sessions which had moved to king’s park. it, however, was not enough and i put on weight hitting the 79kg mark. this may not sound like much, but my work pants started getting tight. i was in denial and started carrying my phone on a pouch rather than in my pocket as i didn’t want to buy new pants. luckily kids are the spreader of disease and after having the flu and three bouts of gastro i was back to my original 72kg.

after returning from one of christophe’s organised bike tours of france, simon informs us that he is moving on from the south perth shop. with very little interest coming from the shop, i decide to step up and organise the saturday rides as well. when mickey took over from simon, he wanted to make some changes, but we were happy with how we ran our rides and he soon lost interest and concentrated on the beginners.

about this time i started e-mailing the maps out to those that were interested so that everyone knew where we were riding. the mapmyride website was a very handy tool and soon we had a repertoire of at least 10 saturday and sunday rides. as this grew i became worried that it may be viewed as a spam service and so i moved it to a blog format. this allowed everyone to access the information at whatever time they wanted and stopped me from having to send out e-mails every week. the blog “where are we riding today” was a good start and provided a good platform to keep everything organised.

what was also going on at this time was the other rides that did not involve the saturday group in its entirety. there was a number of rio tinto based groups that i was also organising. cyclo-sportif races with up to four teams, great perth bike ride, the freeway bike hike and the brw corporate triathlon were also on my plate during the year. i somehow became the point of contact within the company for anything cycling/triathlon orientated. it hasn’t been all bad and my design for a rio tinto jersey is now being worn in perth, melbourne, brisbane and some parts of the usa.

so everything was travelling along smoothly. we had a good turn out on both the saturday and sunday rides and had a new kit in the pipeline. about then the incident happened and it all went to shit. maybe i was in the wrong, maybe there was a conflict of interest, and maybe my actions were responsible for taking the food out of the poor bike shop owners mouth. either way i made a complete split from the south perth shop and let everyone else decide where they would ride from.

we moved up the road to ensure we were still in south perth and continued to ride as we always did. some technical difficulties meant that the blog was shutdown but i reinvented it as the current one. there is a plan to move to a hosted site rather than the blog based one which will give us more control over what we can and cannot post.

so, we started racing this year and stu and i kicked it off with the tour de perth. a bunch of other races followed with different guys from the south perth team joining in when they could. the highlight for me was coming second at the state road championships in the masters 2/3 division. so after 17 years, i finally make it onto the podium again. with our new kit just around the corner and a lot more people involved with the blog and running the group, i can only see good things in the future.

so that is how i got to where i am. but the question is still asked of me “where are we riding today”.

sunday 22nd june – welshpool & mundaring & kalamunda

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ride report by peter

so my first hills ride in a long time and before i even started, i knew it was going to hurt. if i hadn’t been racing, i had been unable to ride due to other commitments. the racing was generally on flatter courses too, so it has been a different style of riding.

many of the usual suspects toed the line this morning, but we had an influx of estrogen as we also had four girls come out with us. davina was out on her final hills ride before she heads to the usa for eight weeks of racing. you can keep tabs on her progress via her blog which can be found here. a friend of hers, bec, also joined us along with sandy, who i used to do triathlons with, and anna an old regular. as far as the blokes went, we had ryan to keep us honest on the hills and carlo, a friend of stu’s who was a bit of a dark horse.

i had mapped out a new route this morning to take in the mundaring weir road. we often ride mundaring weir, but are usually heading towards kalamunda for coffee rather than away from it. i thought the change would be good, but to get to it, we would have to get across the scarp via welshpool rd. after mundaring, we would head back through darlington and back up to kalamunda for coffee. it was planned to be just over 100km by the time we got home.

the morning was fresh, but not as cold as yesterday. everyone was rugged up but wary of the fact that it was going to warm up as the day progressed. we headed out great eastern hwy to get onto orrong rd and picked up mike on the way out. great, both mike and ryan to hurt us on the hills. nice and uneventful on the way out and pretty soon we were beginning to climb the “lower slopes” of the welshpool hill.

everyone had been doing turns on the front and just as the road began to point upward, the guys peeled off to leave sandy and anna to lead the way up the climb. michael came to the front with davina on his wheel and i jumped on as he set the pace. a train of ryan, mike, mark and a new guy, carlo came past as the climb got harder. i switched wheels to see how long i could stay with them. i was sitting on carlo’s wheel when ryan swapped turns with mike and set a higher pace. i pulled off to the side and i think jerry may have been there too. all blood was channeled to legs so the short term memory was not functioning properly. anyway, eventually it ended up being ryan, mike & carlo up the road and they had about 100 metres on mark and myself by the time we past the servo.

after that, i don’t really know what happened to the front guy’s navigational skills. all three turned up lesmurdie road. when have we ever turned up that way??? mark asked me if we were going straight and we just kept powering by as they eventually looked back down the road and realised their mistake. the aim now was to try to stay ahead of the hapless trio.

as we crested the next section, we saw a few cyclists a bit further up the road. these turned out to be, doug, dr paul & dr greg. doug had lives up that way so always joins after the start, whilst the docs had left early and were going to do their own thing.

after the second “step” in the climb, we were still ahead of them but they were closing fast. ryan and mike had dropped carlo and very soon they had overtaken us. it was now a matter of jumping on board and holding on till the end. on the final pinch i tried a bid for glory, but came up a little short as they caught me as we crested the rise. we then rolled down to the intersection together. there may have been a dispute as to who should really claim the first on this climb, but the commasaires have reviewed the tape and have declared that they were stupid to turn up lesmurdie road.

a regroup at the top and we were off into bickley valley. a few of us tried for the landspeed record down the glenisla rd as it was ideal weather with little wind at that time. as i said yesterday, it was the winter solstice, which is the shortest day of the year. as we past through bickely valley it still had not seen the sun and was absolutely freezing. their winter solstice must mean a day of only three hours direct sunlight. another quick regroup to make sure we had everyone and we were off again, but unlike every other ride, we were heading away from the coffee shop.

the road to mundaring has a couple of main climbs and a lot of undulations in between. we hit the first one as soon as we turned onto the road and as i was “leading the way” i ended up with a decent gap on the rest of the field. carlo bridged across to me and soon ryan, mark and mike were there too. jerry briefly tried to make it across, but was a little short and didn’t manage to get a wheel.

the pace wasn’t high, but consistent, and we swapped off turns all the way to the weir. the decent into the dam wall was a lot of fun, especially the last couple of hundred metres where they have laid hotmix. all that road needs is about 20km more of it and it will be awesome.

as we came up out of the weir, we changed plans and would stop at the roundabout as i was concerned that some of the group may not know the way and would get lost. this meant that the second climb would not be that long, and ryan could go harder sooner. he did. about halfway up the first pinch out of the weir, he started going hard. mark and carlo dropped off but i managed to hang on, but only just. just as the climb approached the roaundabout and the grade steepened, both mike and ryan stepped on the gas and i had to let them go. i think mike pipped ryan for line honors.

regroup and off again. the pack stayed together till about the halfway point, where ryan, mike and carlo took off on one of the rolling hills. i again, managed to stay around for a bit but soon ran out of legs and could not hold wheel. mark and darren picked me up as they came past and we were only about 150 metres behind once we hit the regroup point again.

the rest of the decent into darlington was going to be controlled and the group would stay together. there were too many twists and turns for people to get lost in, and michael and i also wanted to take the group down one of the steepest hills in the area. this particular hill is called mills rd and averages about 17%. when going up (and we will do this one soon) your arms get sore from pulling up on the bars and you are always searching for an easier gear. when going down, you are going over the crest and still can’t see the bottom of the hill. you tend to ride the brakes the whole way down as you pick up speed in no time. there is also a semi-blind corner that you don’t want to cut, just in case. a small bonus climb to get us to darlington, and we started another descent.

this eventually brought us out at the base of ridge hill rd, our last bonus climb for the day. my legs were not cooperating by now and when carlo and ryan went, i couldn’t really respond. i just rode tempo to the top but kept them in sight till the start of the zig zag.

as we regrouped a coup happened. not from within the ranks, but rather from my legs. they said “i swear that if you make us ride up kalamunda rd i will put your foot through the spokes when you are coming done welshpool”. they were pissed, and who could blame them. i hammered them pretty hard today, and they were out of condition to start with. my cardio backed the legs and my brain made my mouth tell everyone that i think we should just go strai
ght up the zig zag. a few of the others turned off to go home and then ryan and mike took off up the zig zag at pace. i was content to just cruise along and enjoy the view for a while. a couple of other “hardcore” riders decided to still tackle kalamunda rd. darren, dr melyvn and anna all deserve the insanity medal for that one.

about halfway up i thought that i better make the most of it and took off catching mark by surprise. michael must have been expecting it and sat neatly on my wheel until i ran out of puff. he then took off up the road to leave me suffering alone. mark and jerry started the long chase and eventually swallowed me up then spat me out the back while they went after michael. i snuck down a back road and beat all three of them to the coffee shop.

as i said before, today was davina’s last ride with us for a while. i can still remember the first sunday when she and josie turned up. we went up carawatha hill in mt nasura near brookton hwy and davina had to push her bike up, claiming that she was a track sprinter, not a road cyclist. how things have changed, as now she is smashing it up those same hills and going racing in the usa. josie has also just returned from a few months racing in europe and will be heading back again soon. for the rest of us that are well past our prime, we can all live vicariously through those in the group that are doing well in the sport.

coffee was good. service was not too bad considering it was closer to 11 than 10 when we arrived. so refreshed, rehydrated and recovered (maybe) we were on our way again. a fast descent down welshpool was not an option as the wind was not in our favour. a group of us stayed pretty much together until the bottom, when i ran out of legs (again) when they began to time trial to the regroup point. all present and correct and we started rolling through to keep out of the wind. we managed to box ryan in almost till the end but he still managed to stretch his legs for a couple of hundred metres to the intersection.

lining up for the final sprint along berwick, both ryan and davina were eyeing each other off as neither wanted to be on the front. knowing i had no sprint, i went to the front and paced the final section from kent st all the way to the end. as we came onto the flat section and the final sprint, ryan, jerry and davina all jumped off my wheel but ryan was too strong and managed to hold off a fast finishing jerry at the unofficial invisible line.

so, a good first ride back for me, as i actually finished without totally dying and managed to keep the big boys in sight at the major climbs. we have a cyclo-sportif event next weekend so not hills for me, but after that the next race is not till august, so i expect that i would have reacquainted myself with most of the climbs in perth by then.