Sharing the fun

Late last week instead of the usual after school activities I decided it was time for some more junior cycling action. The venue, right near school, was of course Daisy Hill.

Shut up Legs!!

We tackled the gentler trails of Tunnel of Love and Koala, which the kids enjoyed.

We can't get that Epic number plate off him!

Rock gardens..........................um..................rock?

While we were stopped at the 5 ways for a breather, Flygirl decided to take on the top section of Possum Box for some added thrills. Her conclusion? Next time we do Possum Box too!

With no "offs" it was a great afternoon. The kids had an awesome time (Flygirl didn't want to leave until it got dark) and there is something satisfying for me in seeing how quickly they learn new skills.

In the Beginning

Some times we get wrapped up with the seemingly hectic pace of life here in the 'teens. You can find yourself wondering if "this is it"?
I find it refreshing to remember why I am doing what I am doing and ponder how I got "here". I think back to another century, when things seemed a lot simpler....

1990 and life was good. I had my first flying job that paid actual money. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get by on and to get my first set of two wheels.

I will try to remember these days when I am hauling my backside out of bed at 4-in-the-am tomorrow to do "what I love"........

Christchurch in a Day

With it shaping up to be a wet week here in Brisbane, I had a call from work making me an offer that I found difficult to refuse. The offer went something like this. If I was willing work my next three days off, I would be sent to Christchurch to ferry a 737 back to Melbourne from heavy maintenance. Hmm...that sounds interesting! He went on to explain that due to the way the flights worked out I would need to go over Monday morning to be ready to bring the jet back Tuesday midnight. Who am I not to help out when they are in a bit of a tight pinch? Sure, I can do that for you! Father's day just got even better!

After having Father's day out at O'Reilly's guest house, it was home to pack some gear. Should I take one of my bikes? The weather forecast looked good for the next two days. A quick search of the interwebs and I had found a company in Christchurch that hire quality mountain bikes. An equally quick email to them to secure a bike and it was onto the passengering(paxing) flight without even time to get a response as to whether the bike was booked or not.

Landed in Christchurch and once the accommodation was squared away I was on the phone finalising the hire bike. It would be dropped of at 8:30 the following morning. Sweet. Now time to meet the locals and their beers for a few hours.

Unfortunately, Christchurch has been in the news lately for all of the wrong reasons. The earthquake last September, then the following shake in February had permanently changed this picturesque city. Here and there, random buildings are smashed, leaning or completely gone. Random selection seems to be the theme for most buildings, apart from the churches. For some reason every church I saw had major damage. I don't want to be controversial, but there is some twisted sort of irony at play here.

I jumped on the bike on a cold and foggy morning wearing all of the cycling clothing I had brought with me from home. I was very glad of the Ground Effect spray jacket that kept me warm. That Flash Gordon is becoming an essential piece of cycling kit in cooler climes. Wearing it here, in the Ground Effect home town felt right too.

First up was a cruise past the cordoned off central business district. A very sad sight indeed.

Then it was out to Halswell quarry to the start of the Crocodile track and the climb up onto the Port Hills. I was glad I had my gps with me as the road wasn't looking familiar and with the fog I couldn't see the hills to get my bearings.

But I managed to find the entry point and began to warm up very quickly as the trail leads straight into steep switchback climbs, first through pine forest then out into open sheep paddocks.

Grinding away for quite a while in the fog it was hard to tell if I was making much progress. The sad km/h reading on my gps seemed to be confirming my slow progress when all of a sudden I burst out the top of the fog into brilliant sunshine. I looked back where I had emerged from the fog and was gobsmacked by the scene that greeted me. Looking out across the top of the fog to the snow capped Alps certainly made all that huffing and puffing worthwhile!

The gorse bush was in full bloom and reminded me of wattle tree back home, but the fragrance from the gorse was something that I have never smelled before and seemed much sweeter than wattle.

The trail became very badly eroded and I took the chance to jump off and push. My right hamstring was getting tight and sore from not having the seat on the hire bike in the perfect position so I took a few minutes to get that setting right. Of course setting it up right before I started out would have been the idea, but them thar hills were a callin'.

At the top of this climb (Kennedy's Bush Track) I could look over the hill and down into Lyttelton Harbour which was shrouded in mist, with hints of snow still on the hilltops.

I then made my way along Summit road to the start of the Flying Nun trail. I recall this being one of the best trails in the Port Hills and I was looking forward to seeing how it flowed this time around with me having some more experience at this mountain biking caper under my belt. I wouldn't be disappointed!

There were new sections of track. There were rock gardens. There were berms and switchbacks. There was one BIG smile. Before too long it was over and I was passing the Sign of the Kiwi tea house(or what was left of it after the quakes) and climbing Summit Rd again toward Victoria Park. There were warning signs for blasting and rock rolling everywhere here as the city council get stuck into cleaning up the loose rocks in this area, so it was straight onto the Traverse Track for me. This is a particularly pretty section of trail that crosses more sheep paddock (notice a theme?) with views out across Christchurch on your left.

From here I trundled around Mt Vernon to Rapaki rock. This is the end of the line since the February quake hit. With large, exposed rock outcrops the Summit road and adjacent mountain bike track are either covered in huge boulders or at risk of having them crash down at any moment.

Now I am not normally a party to the "Nanny State" mentality that pervades our modern society, but in this case as work was sponsoring my riding trip and I needed to be in functioning condition later in the evening I complied with the trail closed signs and dropped down the Rapaki Track into the suburbs for some rubbernecking.

After a chilly, long descent to sea level I headed out toward the beach side suburb of Sumner for a first hand look at February's devastation. The first thing you notice is how rough the road is. What was once smooth blacktop is now a torn, twisted patchwork. Nearing Sumner, strategically placed shipping containers act as barricades to catch further rockfalls. Houses met their end here. How they will ever rebuild this area is beyond me.

A stop at Underground Coffee in Sumner for a rest and bite to eat has me pondering the name of the shop as I took in the view across the road.

Time now to mosey back toward the hotel while soaking in the glorious spring weather. High teens and sunshine are perfect riding weather in my book. During the ride back it really becomes apparent how random the damage is with many building seemingly normal, then one will be abandoned with warning notices plastered everywhere. I can't help but feel there are going to be some deep psychological scars carried by the locals here. I know I cringe a little these days when the heavens open in Brisbane, feeling uncomfortable for the people that lost everything in the floods. But, with respect, you can see a flood coming. You can see a cyclone coming. You can see a bushfire coming and prepare yourself, even if it is only slightly. But you cannot see an earthquake coming and the power unleashed is incomprehensible to mere mortals.

All I can do is wish Cantabrians good luck and try to support them by injecting a little coin into the local economy.

Back at the hotel it was just a case of handing the bike back, having a shower, then off to refuel before suiting up for a nights work.

What a great way to start the week.

The Lad from the Isle of Skye

Just go full screen and watch in awe!

Almost "The Epic"?!!

It is that time of year again when over a thousand mountain bikers descend on Spicer's Old Hidden Vale for the 9th running of the Flight Centre Epic.

This year the route had been changed from the traditional point to point race leaving Toowoomba and finishing at Hidden Vale to a loop leaving and arriving back at Hidden Vale. This was mainly due to damage to the trails from the floods back in January in the Lockyer Valley. From a logistical point of view this year's format made it much easier to ride without a support crew to get you to Toowoomba for the start. But with this new course being only 75 kilometres, down from the traditional 100km, would the Epic be well...Epic?

Sunday morning saw me lining up for the start contemplating how little training I had done this year. Chatting with friends...contemplating how I have been sick for the last two weeks. I told myself I would just take it easy, take some photos and enjoy the ride as a ride, not a race. Ok. How hard can it be? It is only 75km. Hmmm...as I see it I haven't ridden a mountain bike that far in one sitting all year. This might actually hurt!

When it was our turn to head off we shuffled through the start gate to the electronic warbling of the timing equipment and then we were off. Nice and steady, chatting with Andrew while warming up gradually made good sense. It was nice to have a few kilometres of farm road to help spread the riders out a bit and it made for good social riding too. That was until the trail pointed downhill at the beginning of the "Epic" singletrack. For the next few km it was time to grin. It was time to also observe how many riders drag their brakes on even slight downhill sections. To me, Mr Unfit, this is sacrilege! All that effort to get up the hill then they turn it into heat in their brake pads rather than forward velocity?! Anyway, I made at least twenty places down this descent that seemed to go on forever. I was passing some riders at about twice their speed! I was only to be passed on a downhill once all day long and that rider came past here, so I tacked onto his back wheel and we whooped and hollered all the way down until the trail spat us out onto the sealed road for the next climb.

Over the next few kilometres the race leaders began to power through the masses. I find it hard to conceive how these guys can ride so fast up hill! They would be sipping icy drinks long before I was finished slogging over sweaty, heartbreaking climbs!

Over the next climb and the knarley downhill and it was onto more flat sealed road in the tiny rural township of Mulgowie. I was wishing I had some support crew here to meet me so I could stop and give my legs have a little respite. Powering into this headwind I found myself to be out in it all alone. I look up the road and there is a train of riders slipstreaming. Looking to the rear I see the same. Yet, here I am, all alone. Pushing this damn headwind! Maybe I smell?

Turning off the sealed section onto the dirt again and I am steeling myself for the climb up over the range again. Gee, I am glad I saved my legs on the flat road section......Grinding away here I am being passed by a lot of riders and when I spot Jimmy going past I realise they must be the last group to start. The sub 5 hour riders.

We then turn off the dirt road into a paddock. A cow paddock. The cattle had been doing their best postholing work while the ground was wet earlier in the year! My bike has turned into a mobile jackhammer as it judders over umpteen unseen indentations! Add to this the trail going up and down small, steep hillocks and it is pure torture. I pass a rider wheeling his bike back along the trail, his front wheel a huge taco. I make a mental note to ride super smooth, be gentle on the front. There is some killer climbing in this section which is pure walking territory for me. I ride the descents with massive amounts of attention and brake! Everyone else I see is either walking or crashing. Hehehe.....this is sorting out all those psuedo mountain bikers!

From about the 38km mark the track is back onto the Hidden Vale single track and it is hard going as I tackle Yowie and Western Creek with rapidly fading legs. Hmmm..I may have gone out a bit hard early on. The next 10km proved to be very tough for me. I backed off the pace to conserve the legs and that feels like the right move but I am getting held up on this section of trail by riders that cannot get over even small obstacles. My frustration is sapping energy fast but then as I see a rider tumble bacwards into a rocky creek I remember my status today. Not a racer, a cruising paparazzo! So I stop to take some photos(creek boy was ok by the way) and munch on an energy bar. So, nicely mellowed I press on.

As I approach the point where the 50km riders split from the 75km nutjobs I ask myself some tough questions about my status, like "can I finish this", "is there enough left in the engine room"? I decide to ride on the right side of the track and not look at any of the support crews waiting for their riders as I pass through the arch. No way am I going to quit. Do not turn left!

About 5km down the trail I want to quit..........badly. The first twinges of cramp are nibbling at my quads and even gentle slopes reduce me to walking. In fact I am walking as first Neil, then Gav come cycling past on a hill with a gradient to match Lake Eyre! Shortly after they leave me in a heat haze I happen across The Caterpillar. I decide to take a break in the shade, eat my banana and slyly check to see if it has the key in it! If I could drive up this next insane 28% climb I would. The fun thing is that everyone that passses "The Cat" askes the same thing. "Is there a key in that thing"?

With nothing else for it I forge forward and upward. Along here I start chatting with a guy who assures me that on the next hilltop is a tent where they are handing out free ice cold Cokes and massages. I believe him for about 3.5 seconds, but they were a blissful 3.5 seconds. In reality there is no tent, only relentless ups and downs as we scamble along a fire trail that is cut into the very ridge top. I look to the left and have a magnificent view out over Hidden Vale and to the right is the Lockyer Valley. Here I am, stuck in the middle with pain. To put into perspective how much I was hurting by this stage, the final suicidal, never ending downhill off this ridge line required me to stop on the only flat section to give my arms a rest. Never!! As I do I see another guy actually blow the hose right off his rear brake caliper! It got so hot, the pressure blew the hose to smithereens!

From this point on (actually from about 5km before this point!) I decided I was in limp home mode. I wasn't sure I could finish, but I wasn't going to quit! Even if I had to walk in on my lips! So, limp I did. The pace seemed very social for about 10km or so until I came to the Epic singletrack again and I couldn't help myself, upping the speed and having a hoot. Out the other side of this trail and I was in limp home mode again as we crossed open cow pasture. I finally drank my Camelbak dry here so stopped to add some Nuuns and Staminade to my water bottle.Hmm...my last 750ml of water. I wondered if I would make it or if the Hidden Vale camels would stand over my withered body and laugh?

After yet another walking climb I happened upon a goddess standing under a shade asking "Would you like some water"? "Er, yes please" and "how much further to go"? I am told "just 4km"! You beauty!! It is funny how you will believe what you are told even though all the other indicators point to a different answer. My Garmin was saying I had another 10km to go, but 4km sounded like music to my ears. Even better, I was at the top of the "Rock Bottom" singletrack. My second wind had arrived and I set the spinnaker to catch as much of it as I could! Through this section I was powering, passing about a dozen riders including Chris and Nick who had opted to do the 50km. Up Escalator I was even passing people. At the top a very nice chap was shouting something about 50km riders turn right, 75km riders turn left. Left? That was away from the finish line?! "How far to go mate"? I yell. 6km is the response......I cannot reprint what was said after that......that goddess under the shade, the one with the honest, pretty face had lied. I was gutted. But even better, I was angry and I smashed the pedals, called track left/right to every wobbling rider I saw ahead and actually enjoyed the hell out of that last 6km! Looking at my heart rate data for the last 10km and it went up from around 150bpm to almost 180bpm as I gave it eveything I didn't know I had left! I passed quite a few riders in this last 10km which no doubt assisted in catapulting me into......drum roll please, 205th place outright!!! ;) Yes, I think I missed my chance at glory by about two hours.

Sitting back, gnawing on cool watermelon and not able to bend my legs lest the cramps grab me, I reflected on what I feel is the hardest race I have done in my four or so years of mountain biking. It may have been the lack of training or the fact that I had a cold for the preceeding two weeks ,but in reality I think this course would have ripped my legs off and beat me with them no matter how prepared I thought I was.

 See you next year. :-)

I'm Back Baby!!!

Well, where has this year gone? Every time I look another month has flown by. This past month has felt like a total loss as far as my cycling pusuits go with much flying, numerous finishing touches being put on the house renovations and lots of "Dad, can you do this?/get me that?/he did this!" to be dealt with. It becomes a bit overwhelming at times and without my "chill time" I am sure I don't cope as well as I know I can.

July wasn't a total loss riding wise, but it was a total loss training wise. Bugger all training/chilling rides but I did manage to enter the Avanti 6 Hour race at Canungra as a solo. Thanks to Dean0 for making me commit to something this year! Despite my visions of total pain and failure I approached this race with an attitude of "I just want to ride and have fun". I actually finished the 6 hours (well 5h:50m) and had a ball on the track! I did the first two laps non stop, then stopped at our trackside shelter each lap for a new bottle and calorie top-up. This strategy worked well for me and my legs were good for the entire race. My arms, however, let me down with my triceps cramping badly on the last lap while hitting the rocky descents. Some core strength work is obviously required on my middle aged squidgy centre bit! If I had done one more lap I would have been in....er 9th place still. Eight was far enough in front even if I did another lap, so I don't feel so bad about bailing out at 5 hours 50 minutes. Still, I will take the top ten placing with no training! Woo Hoo!!

Railing!

But mainly chillin' and enjoying! (thanks to Micheal Phipps for the photos)

 All up, a top day out with some good company, lots of laughs (like Dean0's test ride of his single speed where he snapped the chain after 5 metres! So much for the back up bike!!)

Fast forward to.....

Today being wednesday would have seen us heading out to Daisy Hill at 6am for the regular morning ride on any normal day. Not today however! With me being on holidays, Graeme being self employed and Jody.....er well Jody doing something dodgy we hatched a cunning plan to head out to Mt Joyce MTB park instead.

Both Graeme and Jody have been twice before but this didn't stop some pre ride planning in the car park.

As you can see from the water in the background, it was a typical perfect winter's day here in south east Queensland. We decided to head straight up the hill via the "Tunnel Vision" trail. Now apparently there is a bit of climbing here at Mt Joyce and the choice is between the main fire road or the kinder, more scenic single track. Well, I can do fire road any day, so the single track it was!

We worked our way up to the top of the hill with a few stops to take in the view(and to let my post illness legs recover).

 A short stop at the top to look at the trail maps and we lowered our seats and headed down "Bovine Groove".

 I proved not to be "in the Groove" on "Bovine Groove" though. No skin lost or unplanned bush trips but I did feel decidedly uncoordinated after bugger all riding lately. We curtailed the downhill at "Caught Short" and climbed up Tunnel Vision again. This time at the top we headed across a fun link to "Black Rock", a single black diamond trail on the southern ridge of the park. Straight off, it was looking like an interesting trail, with Graeme getting some air in the first few metres of trail. So much in fact, I missed his mellon!

So, take two.....

Apparently when he picked up his new Giant Reign he asked the bike shop guy "What can I do on it?" to which the reply was "Anything!" So Graeme does. ;) Nice.

Black Rock proved to be a fun, techy trail that I look forward to hitting up more over the years. It was then on to the "Secret Valley Loop" and a bit of a lunch break in an open park area near the lake. Was this too much time off the bike for Jody? You be the judge....

Can you blame him though? We were quickly back on the bikes and climbing back up the hill for some more downhill goodness though.

I think we hit "Sergeant's" black diamond downhill for this last run, but I missed the sign as my eyes were glued to the drops! Rocky,sandy,loose off camber corners....and lots of 'em!! Crikey, please sir, may I have some more?!? I rolled out the bottom onto the park near the lake sweating profusely from the downhill! There was only one big "OMG, I am cactus" moment though and I had basically survived my first Mt Joyce visit. We trundled out via the Shoreline Track towards the car, dusty, but satisfied with our efforts.

Mt Joyce shows huge potential as a MTB destination here in south east Queensland. Some more trails, some rain to wash away all the dust and loose topsoil, or some grippy tyres is all that is needed to make this area into a regular ride destination.

Oh, and some climbing legs. Yes, pack your climbing legs if you want to "Escape".

Outside my office window

The last week in photos.

Mt Lindsay and Mt Barney.

Marine transport.

 Whitsunday sunrise. Worth the 4am wakeup!(No touch up to this photo, just the raw image)

Wind-262deg/179kts. Enough breeze to blow your hat off!

Getting ready to go again.

Ever wonder what happens to the smoke from your fire?

Growing on a South Australian hillside east of Adelaide.

Loaded and doors closed, chillin'.

Sydney saturday sunset.

Touchdown.......................................