A metre really does matter…especially if you aren’t wearing one of these!

My stance was why should us followers donate towards the $500 target so a bloke who earns heaps more than us can get a free cycling jersey?

Now, don’t get me wrong – even though I barrack for St Kilda – I’m sorry he got hit by a car. Truly, I am. But there are likely to be many more cyclists out there that have been on the receiving end of some poor driving and who would spend many more hours in the saddle than ol’ JB (and therefore provide more scope for free advertising for SCA). And I bet they don’t earn the moolah he does!

I received some robust argument against my stance from the SCA “CEO”, Dave Sharp, and being in a democracy that is what I would expect. So imagine my surprise (just now) when checking stuff I missed on FB (since I was overseas) and found a post from SCA: “Please try not to run this down mate. BCC are in Bq’s pocket so the option is closed to us…(edited).

I appreciate all Dave has been doing to raise the issue of motorists not giving sufficient space to cyclists when passing at normal speeds (or higher) – that Venturi effect is a PITA! – but stand by my comments, and so am surprised to see Dave/SCA have censored my comments critical of his/their stance on this issue, comments I hasten to add were neither crude, vulgar or defamatory. So much for freedom of speech…

However, I also feel vindicated in that the campaign to get Browny a SCA jersey has not been well supported. One solitary donation of $20 ain’t going to buy him much more than a zip. Maybe he can use it to curb his on-field sledging of opponents when AFL season 2013 starts in March…

Is it not enough that cyclists are apparently treated with contempt on the roads but have to hope and pray that justice prevails when matters in which they are a victim, by virtue of their cycling, go before a court?

Every time we clip-in and head out for a training ride, to simply get some exercise or just to catch the sunrise we are cognisant of the risks of injury riding alongside cars, buses and trucks. But, in the scheme of things, those risks are small, especially given the greater risk is from copping an earful of abuse.

I have been on the receiving end of verbal and physical abuse when riding more times than I can recall, usually just because I am riding a bike or wearing Lycra (which seems to cause more angst in the motoring public if comments in The Courier Mail are anything to go by). From sledging to a frozen coke to the head to a punch in the kidneys from a passenger leaning of the car, I have had it all.

But I have never been put in the position where I had absolutely no control in avoiding being hit by a driver too stupid to be behind the wheel of a car.

Unfortunately, Jorge Alvarado was.  Twenty-seven years old and a pro-cyclist in a new team on the US circuit he had everything to look forward to.

Except death.

The sad story of his death, over two years ago, and the lack of justice served last week in San Bernardino county, California, can be found at the blog BikingInLA.  Sadly reminiscent of the July 2005 accident that took Amy Gillett and severely injured a number of the Australian women’s cycling team, it seems the only people worldwide who don’t seem to understand are those foolish enough to street race on public roads and the judiciary that hear their pleas for mercy.

Sadly this level of justice is not restricted to other countries.  The death of Ian Humphrey has shown miscarriages occur here as well.

Jorge Alvarado (and Amy Gillett and Ian Humphrey)…RIP.

Jorge Alvarado

Amy Gillett

Ian Humphrey

My commute to work is about 28km of a few rolling hills and one nasty one towards the end, with both pedestrian crossing and traffic intersection lights on the ascent and, in Spring, a particularly aggressive magpie.  But the first part of the journey isn’t too bad.  There have been a few occasions where cars and trucks have come too close for comfort but none like there was this morning.

The incident which increased the heart rate above 135bpm at about 6.50am yesterday occurred on a roundabout at Petrie (ignore the date/time stamp on the recording).  Travelling south in Beeville Road the road widens from one lane plus a parking lane to two lanes (with no parking lane), the left most of which is signed for traffic to exit on Dayboro Road towards Strathpine.  The right lane is for traffic going straight ahead into a housing sub-division or right on Dayboro Road towards Youngs Crossing Road intersection or past there to Dayboro.  Approaching the roundabout Beeville Road bends slightly to the right and as it widens to two lanes I checked back and saw a silver four wheel drive a short distance back, still climbing the hill.  I signalled my intent to turn right and – for reasons of safety – positioned myself in the left lane whilst continuing to signal right with an outstretched arm letting traffic on the roundabout pass in front.  I then moved onto the chevrons to the left of the edge line and continued to ride towards Dayboro Road still with my right arm signalling my intended course.  So, considering I had signalled heaps more than many other cyclists tend to do I was a bit shocked to find the silver four wheel drive, a Mitsubishi Pajero Queensland registration 692ITY drive straight in front of me into the Petrie-on-Pine estate.  But as he/she had signalled their intent (note flashing indicator) to turn into this road then their wanton disregard for other traffic can be forgiven.  Apparently.  But as my name is not Jesus I decline to forgive and so you shall have your 15 minutes of fame.

Some forty minutes later, and still marvelling at my good fortune of almost meeting the courteous Pajero driver, my disappointment in the attitudes of some Brisbane road users continued.  On Old Northern Road/South Pine Road at Everton Park, just after the intersection with Dargie Street, the traffic starts to back up to a standstill.  For some unknown reason drivers are unable to position their cars on the road to allow cyclists to pass safely on the left, so many cyclists, myself included, pick the safest option which is to ride between the two lines of traffic (see, I told you I wasn’t perfect!) until the space on the left increases .  Unfortunately, just after the intersection with Stafford Road the entire scenario is replicated on the approach to where South Pine Road becomes Wardell Street.  This is a long, straight stretch with an appalling road surface and camber on the left of the southbound lanes.  The road passes Mt Maria College and so is in a school zone.  Now traffic is so heavy here that speeding is not an issue but right outside the main entrance to the school is a pedestrian crossing controlled by traffic lights.  So you would think that when riding along through stopped cars and trucks, which are stopped because the lights were RED, that you would err on the side of caution and stop too or at least slow to a crawl pending their change to green.  But, no!  Apparently if you are a cyclist then that ridiculous rule shouldn’t apply to you.  So a big round of applause to Mr “Lend Lease” for doing the wrong thing at a red light and giving Brisbane drivers more anti-cyclist ammunition.  And a dollar to the swear jar for me for calling him a fuckwit.

But it didn’t end there.  A bit further on Mr “Lend Lease”, like me, took an exit to a back street next to the Enoggera train station.  Due to a blind corner at the bottom of the off-ramp the intersection is controlled by a stop sign.  The big question for users of this intersection during the morning rush hour is whether there is a police officer on the other side, just out of sight, but in possession of a video camera filming the evidence before he issues the $300 fine.  Lucky for Mr “Lend Lease” there wasn’t since he (and the driver following) made no attempt to stop.

I eventually caught up with Mr “Lend Lease” when he stopped for the lights at the Samford Road / Enoggera Road intersection (this one is a bit busier and so perhaps he didn’t feel so brave).  I told him he was doing some wonderful things to enhance the reputation of Brisbane cyclists in his disobedience of the red light and the stop sign and called him a tool (no more money for the swear jar!).  I must have hit a nerve because he reacted and told me in no uncertain terms to worry about myself.

And their lies the root of the problem because I do worry about myself when riding, especially during rush hour.  All the time.  I worry that some cranky motorist who has seen other cyclists ignore the road rules will give me less room because, well, I must be a road-rule flouting cyclist like Mr “Lend Lease”.  I worry that some cyclist-hating driver will report his sighting of the behaviour of those Mr “Lend Lease” types and give fuel to the anti-cyclist vitriol published ad nauseum in the Courier Mail.  I worry that my wife and kids will one day receive a visit from a workmate with the news that I won’t be home for dinner.  Ever.  But I also worry that one day I might be the one that has to deliver similar news to the family of cyclists like Mr “Lend Lease”.

P.S.  Unfortunately there appears to be an issue in the uploading of videos 2 & 4 in that the sound is out of synch to the files held on my hard drive.

P.P.S.  If you are a manager from Lend Lease (offices at Waterfront Place in Brisbane) and you recognise this fool as one of your employees I most strongly recommend you “educate” him in setting  the right example when riding on the road.  Alternatively you could recommend he doesn’t provide such negative advertising to your brand.

Riding back home (why am I always one of the last to leave?) I was approaching a roundabout, riding on or just to the left of the lane marker on Anzac Avenue, Kallangur, when I became aware of a truck approaching from behind.  Now, I was riding at about 30-32kph and would find it easier to negotiate the roundabout close to that speed, much close than the truck would.  So what does the dickhead truck driver do?  Ease off the gas and allow me, who is ahead of him, to get through the roundabout into a position where it would be easy for him to overtake on the straight road following the roundabout?  No!  This…

About 500m later I caught up with the truck waiting at the lights on the intersection with Duffield Road.  I rode past and as the lights changed wondered whether the truckie would turn off somewhere or pass me a bit further on.  I should have known.  Another 500m later he passed me again.  Just as close as before…

Which just goes to prove if you are a truckie driving B-Double not only do you not need a big dick, you probably don’t have one.  Unless it is on your head.

The ride last Saturday was one of the most frequently ridden, leaving North Lakes and riding via Petrie, Strathpine, Albany Creek and Zillmere out to Shorncliffe before finishing off around the Redcliffe peninsula and the jelly-legged sprint up Mango Hill for coffee and cake.

There is always much to see en-route: other bunches (some of whom don’t know how to acknowledge other cyclists); bogan drivers (who only know how to abuse cyclists); the rear wheels of others in the bunch as we rotate through; and of course fantastic views such as the one below.

Sandgate foreshore panorama (images taken at southern end of Flinders Parade on an iPhone and joined using AutoStitch)

Although not the halfway point of the ride  (in fact it is over half way) it is the regular stop for us and many other bunches.  Some riders will use the 5-10 minute break to catch their breath, others to talk incessantly.  Most however will use it to snack on whatever they packed for the ride yet forgot to eat until then, get some more water or get rid of other “water”.  Which brings me to the reason for this post…

At the southern end of Flinders Parade in Sandgate there is an amenities block.  Toilets and washbasins are provided and there is a small gazebo with benches and tables adjoining an electric BBQ.  All these are maintained by Brisbane City Council.  Those exercising along the foreshore make good use of the facilities which, given their frequency of use, are usually found in good condition.

However, riding in to the rest stop last Saturday it was clear something was amiss.  A gentle S/SW breeze was picking up and until I was passing the BBQ I was unaware of what was actually “cooking”.  Looking towards the gazebo I saw a bloke with some bags, one of which obviously contained food.  The glum look on his face told me he was not impressed at something but I didn’t for one second think it would be down to the BBQ.  But a split second later, as the vapour of piss emanated from the BBQ, I realised that some feral bogan, too lazy to walk the ten metres to the toilets, had used the BBQ plate as a urinal.  What had not evaporated in the early hours before the arrival of Glum Bloke and the hordes of cyclists stopping or just riding past must have collected in the trap below the plate and was now being warmed by the generated heat on the plate.

The stench was overpowering, so much so it was the unspoken encouragement for many of us to cut short our break or even forego it altogether.  The below image I sourced from my helmet camera.  Note the wisps of urine steam rising off the hot plate and Glum Bloke sitting on the bench in the shadows.  There goes the serenity…

The stench of piss on a BBQ is enough to taint even the most perfect morning for a ride

To give the reader the full experience I have made the image “scratch and sniff” enabled.

Use your imagination.

You’re welcome!

Reports from some cities in the days following the controversy highlighted intimidation of cyclists by car loads of youths, many slapping their hands on the sides of the cars and repeatedly shouting “Warnie”.  From personal experience most acts of intimidation only occur on lone cyclists, those targeting us generally being too gutless to pick on more than one cyclist.  And having been abused and had stuff thrown at me on numerous occasions, and more recently assaulted five minutes from home by a passenger of a white ute being driven by a grub from Burpengary – a grub who was at the time and still is banned from driving until mid-2014 – I decided it was time to invest in a little insurance.  So I bought a camera.

I picked this one as the manual states it records for 2.5hours which is more than enough time for my commute with a bit to spare.  In fact I could do the commute and a River Loop of Brisbane and still have a few minutes spare.  I used it on the way into work a couple of days ago and although I got buzzed a couple of times it was nothing too heavy and there was no “Warnie” abuse.  But on the way home, five minutes after leaving the office, I got buzzed by a truck.  I just love the way he cuts in after passing then drives on top of the line at the edge of the road adjoining the bus stop emphasising his ownership of the road.

A short distance further on I witnessed the best driving through a red traffic signal I have seen for a couple of years.  The intersection with Enoggera Road and Ashgrove Road at Newmarket is always busy with vehicles, cyclists and pedestrians and yet at 4.36pm Mr Pajero Driver makes no attempt to brake let alone stop as the lights turn amber.  At this stage he is not in camera, the lights turning amber with the camera almost 56m away.  When he is in camera and 15m away the lights turn red and he continues driving through the intersection.  As I remark on the video, he is a fucking knob!

Ride safe people and watch out for fuckwits driving cars and trucks…

The visit of Australia’s first Grand Tour winner, Cadel Evans, visited Brisbane briefly last weekend and departed on Monday.  Unbeknownst to most of his Brisbane cycling fans he took part in a family fun ride from South Bank to the Sirromet winery and then had the temerity to complain about the attitudes of drivers in the region towards cyclists.  I don’t disagree that there are a number of cyclists who flout the road rules, the same as there being a number of drivers who behave in an equally deplorable manner or a number of thieves who steal to ensure retailers add an appropriate mark-up on goods to compensate them for stock loss.  The fact is they are here to stay and the rest of us just have to put up with them and the negative attitudes that are generated towards the those of us who try to set a better example.  I know we shouldn’t but, really, hands up who thinks attitudes are going to change in those who drive white utes, covered in stickers (see end note) just because others criticise their behaviour?  However, maybe if Cuddles had not engaged in such a selective ride with only a few of his fans as opposed to a majority, the unnecessarily nasty drivers might have decided discretion was the better part of valour (as we know they are gutless when faced with superior numbers) and kept their unsavoury opinions to themselves (until the next cycling article is published in The Courier Mail).

The main purpose of Cadel’s visit was to sign copies of his new book The Long Road To Paris.  Essentially a pictorial record of his quest for the Tour de France yellow jersey, with photographs by renowned cycling photographer Graham Watson, it is Evans second biography, complementing Close To Flying which was co-written with Rob Arnold from Ride Cycling Review.  Strangely though, The Long Road To Paris is much easier to read.

The Long Road To Paris

Evans’ appearance at Dymocks bookstore at Albert Street in the city was well-publicised to the Brisbane cycling community with flyers available at the Brisbane BMW Ride For Life Challenge, next to the coffee outlet and across the way from where Evans former Lotto team mate Robbie McEwen was signing copies of his biography One Way Road.  Word spread even further with notification posted on various cycling forums and blogs and big posters in the windows at Dymocks.

So it was no surprise, at a little after 10am, to find a queue almost 200m long, four deep in places, snaking its way into the Queen Street Mall and forcing pedestrians to detour around much to their bemusement.  What was a surprise though was the lack of abuse from pedestrians when answers were given as to why we were queuing.  There were no derogatory comments about cyclists blocking their way, or snide comments about those of us ignorant enough to flout red lights.  And there was only one person I saw dressed in Lycra.  I didn’t even get any abuse when I returned to work after two hours standing in the sun.

What was almost poetic for those of us who still revel in what is arguably the greatest sporting achievement by an Australian, and who looked up whilst in the Queen Street Mall, was seeing the queue strategically pass Evans’ Tour de France ride number, 141, emblazoned on the facade of 141 Queen Street Mall, an obvious but silent homage to the 2011 Australian Cyclist of the Year.

The queue for Cadel passes his special number. Poetic placement!

The signing commenced at 10.30am and it wasn’t long before the future generation of Australian cycling came to be anointed by kang-ga-ri lama.  And this is possibly what caused the queue to move oh-so-slowly.  The signing was due to finish at midday so myself and those waiting in close proximity to me, not ten metres from the door, were none too happy to be advised at 11.57am by a Dymocks’ employee we might miss out.  All that waiting and expense for a fleeting glimpse of the champion many of us had devoted last July to.  I feared he might do the bolt and could reasonably foresee such behaviour would be likely to cause a public nuisance so was all set to snap on the cuffs when I made it to the front of the queue.

The determined resolve to finish a marathon signing session

Unlike his previous visit in 2009 Cadel was not in the mood for a song.  But then he wasn’t accompanied by his wife Chiara Passerini so there was no one there to serenade.

Nevertheless he was in the same cheerful mood he had been since Sunday 24 July 2011 and signed the three copies of The Long Road To Paris I had brought along, acknowledging the congratulations of myself and others waiting for our books to be signed as well as others passing on the adjacent escalators.

I left the store just after midday and looked up Albert Street towards the Queen Street Mall.  There would be many who had waited who would miss out and wished they had joined the queue much earlier…

On Sunday 6 November 2011 the second Brisbane BMW “Ride For Life Challenge” was held.  The event had first been announced in mid-July and I had indicated to the Minister for War of my intention to ride as I had done the previous year.  As the months drew closer and registration opened I became aware the Minister was set for a Council of War with other Ministers (who also happen to be members of the Wide Bay Swimming Association management committee) and that the scheduled date was going to clash.  With the meetings being held a couple of hours north in Queensland’s own Middle Earth and commencing at 9am, so necessitating an early departure from home, there was no likelihood of the Minister for War assuming her other portfolio (Minister for Child Safety) so I approached my last chance.  Her mother, the wicked witch of Bribie Island, was initially receptive to my plea but within 12 hours had decided to forego the pleasure of hosting a sleepover of two of her grandchildren.  I decided to send a tweet to Robbie seeking his assistance.  He failed to change her mind and I was left with no choice.  No ride for me and no chance of Australian cycling legend Robbie McEwen seeing if he could beat me in a sprint to the finish (we would have to settle it once and for all in a sprint to the coffee stall).  The upside however was that I would get to meet Robbie as would my boys and that hopefully they will, one day, be inspired to ride as well as him.  So, estimating the riders would be back soon after 8.15am we set off from home for Brisbane BMW in Fortitude Valley.

We arrived just before eight and waited.  And waited.  And waited a bit more.  Whilst waiting we met and were entertained by Australian swimming legend Duncan Armstrong (this country is choc-full of legends, both sporting and general).  He was there as the MC for the event and spent a bit of time warming up the gathering crowd ready for the arrival of the riders.  He is one of those people who has “the gift of the gab” and had the boys in fist of laughter with his spruiking of Robbie McEwen’s autobiography, One Way Road, and other products which were for sale.  In particular, his continual recommendation for people to buy some of “Robbie McEwen’s bum cream” would have the boys sniggering and running around talking loudly about bum cream.

One Way Road (signed) and tubs of Robbie's bum cream

So, with me recently having run out of a decent chamois cream and Keywin being hard to find outside of New Zealand, I parted with some cash and bought a couple of tubs.  It didn’t take long for the boys to find out and that set off round two as they ran around and mentioned loudly to anyone in earshot that their dad had some of Robbie McEwen’s bum cream.  A passerby oblivious to the significance of the event, Robbie McEwen or me would surely have left with the impression Robbie and I were more intimately acquainted than either of us would choose to be or that I was a proctologist (to an Australian cycling legend).

Apart from some very lovely BMW cars on show at the venue one of the sponsors (I think) brought along two of the toys from his own car showroom.  They made such an impression on Mr Ten that he has decided he would like dad to salary sacrifice one, a yellow one, for the next family car (as opposed to another Honda).  The fact he is also taller than the roofline of the car also pleased him.

Please buy one of these dad...puhleeease?

Just before 9am the first riders drifted in.  Robbie was not amongst them, having done the decent thing and joined some of the slower groups on the ride back, but didn’t take long and he soon arrived.  It was time for me to spring into action.  I made a dash for the coffee queue and beat Robbie to a long black.  Then I turned around I saw one of his assistants had already secured one for him and he was seated and signing books already.  I had been beaten again!  Trying not to be too disheartened by his subterfuge in sending in a proxy to humiliate me, I took solace in the coffee and my astute purchase of bum cream.  I then joined the queue for the book signing.

With me I had three books; one for me, one for my brother and another belonging to a workmate (who couldn’t be there as the boss had sent him to St Kitts and Nevis in the Caribbean for a week).  As the queue advanced I could see others were getting cycling jerseys signed as well as copies of his book.  I suddenly realised I should have brought along the Silence Lotto Australian Champion’s jersey I had sitting in my wardrobe at home as it was the same that would have been worn by Robbie back in 2005.  The queue quickly advanced and we were soon at the table where Robbie “Movember” McEwen sat surrounded by books, “One Way Road” cycling jerseys and tubs of bum cream.  I introduced myself and the boys to Robbie and asked if he would sign the three books and if we could get a picture with him and he readily accommodated the requests (a lady in the queue behind took the pics for us).

Mr Six, Me, Mr Ten & Robbie

I jokingly mentioned I was disappointed he was unable to respond to my Twitter plea for his help in convincing my mother-in-law to change her mind.  Some have commented he had every reason to look bemused but I could see he was more relieved I was prevented from beating him back to the finish line.

After this it was time for the sponsors’ presentations and a talk from Robbie.  The development and backing of the event by Brisbane BMW and Westside BMW etc cannot be applauded enough, generating necessary funds for Variety Queensland, Guide Dogs Queensland and the NexGen Foundation and giving weekend warriors, corporate riders and some local racers the chance to ride alongside seasoned professionals like Robbie and the next generation being groomed by the Team Jayco-2XU Pro Cycling.  Robbie spoke of his 2011 season and his plans for 2012 with his new team and Australia’s first Pro-Tour team on the UCI World Tour, Green Edge Cycling.  (What is it with professional Aussie cyclists?  Give them a microphone and they start singing – see picture below of Cadel Evans from 2010 for proof).

Robbie serenades Duncan Armstrong

Cadel the crooner

Thanks to Lance Armstrong and Team Radio Shack Robbie secured a ride for 2011 after Pegasus Racing were denied a licence by the UCI.  But his omission from the squad sent to the Tour de France robbed his legion of fans around the world from seeing him go up against Mark Cavendish in what has turned out to be his last full season.  Robbie has announced plans to compete a half season in 2012, finishing after the Tour of California in May then taking a mentoring role with Green Edge guiding the likes of Leigh Howard to sprint wins and (hopefully) the coveted green jersey in Paris.  With his wealth of experience and that of Stuey O’Grady in the team, Green Edge will be a force to be reckoned with in seasons to come.

And that was it.  We left Robbie to the rest of his adoring fans and headed home.

Well, my previous comment regarding the Melbourne weather looking good for Around The Bay must have been read by the weather gods who, on such occasions, seem to follow me around and spoil my day.  Wind, and lots of it, was on the menu and the previous nights feed at Café Grand Forno in Ashburton had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Despite less than five hours of sleep, a bellyful of pasta, half a pizza and the best part of a bottle of Cab-Sav I found rising at 4.15am for the ride surprisingly easy.  With kit prepped the night before it was just a matter of checking the weather forecast, getting dressed, having a couple of slices of toast and something to drink (the remaining Cab-Sav seemed appealing), riding to the Hanger’s Hanger to meet the rest of Team Dave…

…and then riding through the back streets of Ashburton to the cycle path which runs alongside the Monash Freeway in to Melbourne, not forgetting the traditional pit stop after 8km to water the plants at Loys Paddock Reserve in Burnley.

The ride this year would include a first for me (at least) as organisers had stipulated riders, if they wished to have their total riding time recorded, would need to cross the official start line and the timing mats in Queenscliff and Sorrento as well as the finishing line back in Alexandra Gardens.  Previously Team Dave have opted to bypass the melee of riders leaving Alexandra Gardens and started opposite, on the northern bank of the Yarra, before riding over the Old Sandridge Rail Bridge, onto Queensbridge Street then picking up with the now not so congested bunches on City Road.

As the only rider in the team who had signed up for the full 250km I should have started with the others riding the same distance; the start for these is at 5.30am.  But, as in previous years, I rolled up a bit later than them and made my way to the start line to set off with those leading off the 210km riders.  The rest of Team Dave started in their speed groups further back.  My plan, as in previous rides was to try and go faster than the rest of the team and attempt to arrive in Queenscliff to be on the same ferry as them.

As the lead group in the 210km set off I joined in and was soon on my way to the Westgate Bridge.  In the dark of an early daylight savings dawn in Melbourne and concentrating on avoiding any bunch-riding mishaps I was oblivious to the fact the group I was with had ridden straight ahead at a set of lights instead of turning right (they must have been doing a much shorter ride).  But, as soon as I realised this, I peeled off and was soon up and over the Westgate Bridge and on my way to Geelong.

As soon as I was past the RAAF base at Laverton the route follows a steady south-westerly track for the next forty-five kilometres, all bar about ten kilometres of it on the Princes Highway, and this is where the winds started.  Unlike last year when I managed to ride thirty kilometres of this stretch with a team from Bendigo Police, this year, I was largely on my own.  The south-westerly winds had picked up as the forecasters predicted and kept my speed down in the early stages to the mid-30s average.  As I was approaching Little River I could see a rainbow ahead.  A shower I expected but not a shower of hail.  By the time I got to Geelong I had ridden through a second and decision time was looming.  I stopped for a minor bike adjustment at Rippleside Park and then reminded myself I had signed on for the 250 and the 250 it would be!

With a good breeze behind me the ride through the Bellarine Peninsula to Portarlington was a joy.  But as anyone who knows this area can attest, after this the south-westerlies are not much fun blowing head-on from St Leonards, then side on as the ride follows a southerly route to the Bellarine Highway.  I played “tag” with a couple of riders along this stretch, the others gaining strength as I was losing mine before digging deep and passing them again.  The remaining five kilometres into Queenscliff I spent passing many on the 210km ride since both rides follow the same roads at this point.  I passed the timing mat 4h 57m 37s after rolling over the start line in Melbourne (average speed for this leg 29.23kph).

Approaching the lines for ferry tags and lunch packs I heard the ride staff indicating riders would be on the 11.30am ferry; less than half an hour to wait!  I got to the front of the queue and suddenly realised the man handing out the tags had run out.  I had a momentary fear I would be joining the line for the 12 noon ferry before noticing the man grab a handful of tags from another line and then hand one to me.  This would be my first time with less than 30 minutes to departing for Sorrento.  Last year was the longest wait with one of the main ferries breaking down on the Saturday evening, which meant less transportation available and a wait of over an hour.

I got my lunch and found somewhere to sit and stretch for a short time whilst tucking into the chicken sandwich, Mizone drink and Winners bar.  Within ten minutes I and a few hundred others were called to the ferry.  I saw none of Team Dave in the park or the queue and assumed they must have been on an earlier ferry.

I sent a message to Grant (he’s the one on the right) to let him know I was getting the 11.30am ferry and received a call whilst underway to let me know he and a couple of others would be on the 12 noon ferry with another two some distance back after the youngest member cramped up on the road to Geelong.  I expressed my surprise that they were not on the ferry ahead of or even with me only to discover the ride marshals had not let some of the bunches depart the start until over half an hour after I had departed!

I told Grant I’d wait at Sorrento until he arrived and then discuss the ride back.  This also gave me the opportunity to grab a coffee and check my Twitter messages.  Just before crossing the timing mat I detected the distinct aroma of ground beans and brewing coffee emanating from a stall set up at the Sorrento Seafood Tavern.  I grabbed a long black and checked my messages.

One tweet that particularly caught my eye was this one from @MelbourneJulie who was attending the finish of the Jayco Herald Sun Tour in Melbourne:

In Lygon Street with a nice position.

The mischievous type that I am I couldn’t resist replying with something (in)appropriate:

@MelbourneJulie At Sorrento on #AroundTheBay & about to get a good position lockerz.com/s/147504049

Before too long Grant, Marko and a new member to the team, Ken, arrived.  Grant suggested I go on ahead as he and Marko wouldn’t be able to maintain my pace and indicated Ken, a fitness instructor, would ride on with me.  So we all clipped in, rolled over the timing mat and that was the last I saw or them, including Ken, until the finish.  The ride from Sorrento through Rosebud and Dromana has the benefit of the south-westerlies and knowing they would be buffeting me later on in the afternoon I pushed on as hard as I could, made good time up Mount Martha (avoiding the inexperienced hill climbers on the left) through to Mornington and then Frankston.  (Oh, how I love that sweeping hill down the Nepean Highway into Frankston; the Garmin registered 69.7kph this year and I didn’t even pedal!)

From Frankston North the road follows a northerly/north-westerly route and following the coast there is little (if any) respite from the ubiquitous south-westerlies.  For some unknown reason the relatively short sixteen kilometre stretch from Frankston to Mordialloc always seems (to me) to take a long time and this time was no different.  Crossing the Patterson River I could see the mouth of the river and a large part of the inlet white with foam as the winds, which forecasters assessed as gusting to 45knots (or 80kmh), whipped up big waves.  The same winds were funnelled between the numerous beach mansions, blowing through to the highway and at times unwary riders were buffeted and blown across the lane potentially causing havoc for other road users.  Thankfully, unlike Brisbane drivers, Melburnians seem aware of these issues and give riders a wide berth.  But other riders, like me, had to maintain a high degree of concentration, picking a spot to overtake where the other rider was not alongside a driveway open to the wind or chance riding out in the traffic.

The next section up to Brighton and through to St Kilda was not as intense and provided me the opportunity to dream of a massive mortgage as we passed some very expensive beachside properties, anything to take my mind off the last few kilometres of traffic lights as we got closer to the city.

Turning off Beaconsfield for the last five kilometres sees riders bunching again and at every red traffic light many display the bad habits of overtaking on the left and forcing their way to the front to be in the best position for the final sprint from the back of Southbank, under St Kilda Road and left to the finish in Alexandra Gardens.  People…please!  It.  Is.  Not.  A.  Race.  If you were trying to beat your previous best time then you should have worked harder earlier on, not on inner city streets surrounded by fellow cyclists.

I rode over the finish line 8h 26m 57s after rolling over the start line in Melbourne and 3h 29m 19s after leaving Sorrento (average speed for this leg 30.10kph with an average of 29.59kph for the whole ride).

The first rider home was, as usual, Team Dave’s mountain goat mascot “Purvo.”  An avid Audax rider, this year he had arrived with a new Giant carbon bike then declared he preferred such long rides on his old steel Giant.  This time he missed the chance to do the loop with a ferry ride and had to settle for riding to Queenscliff and back.  Consequently he was back earlier than the rest of us thanks to a huge tailwind which, he claims, ensured he remained at 45kph or more all the way to the Westgate Bridge.  He even managed to sink a couple of beers and get a massage before I arrived (and was still at the bar when I did).  Next home after me was Ken followed by Grant and Marko.  Muddy and Son-of-Muddy (“The Cramper”) arrived much later, just in time for a snag and a beer courtesy of Skinny on the south bank of the Yarra (thanks mate!) before heading back to the Hanger’s Hangar where we could dump the bikes and jump in the spa to relieve the weary muscles then finish off with beer and pizza and much needed sleep.

As always, the morning after is spent at a local café re-stocking depleted supplies of protein.  This year we went to the Oak Room.  Situated on High Street, Ashburton, it serves breakfast until 3pm so is ideal for us late risers.  So, rather strangely, I decided on the “Early Birds” meal: roasted capsicum, onion and herb frittata over house-made potato rösti with chorizo, grilled tomato and feta salad.  The Nicaraguan single-origin coffee topped it off nicely.

After packing and wishing each other all the best with their training for next year’s ride (which at this stage I am unlikely to be around for as I am planning a trip to London) it was time for the trip to the airport and home.  Thankfully the Qantas industrial sagas were placed on hold although it would have been good to sink some more carbs in the Qantas Club before heading home.

For those that may be interested in the Garmin plot of my day I have uploaded it to both Garmin Connect and to Ride With GPS.  It is strange how both show the uploaded data differently. 

Around The Bay - course & profile

I am yet to fathom how the tracking can be so wayward nor figure how Garmin registers my top speed accurately but Ride With GPS has me reaching a maximum speed of 182kph in the inner city streets of south Melbourne.

Qantas engineers and ground staff came to the party yesterday and didn’t unduly delay my flight south and I arrived in time to get to the Optus store at Prahran to pick up my pre-ordered black iPhone 4S 32GB.  And there I met the sales person with ADHD.  You’d think she’d have the nous to concentrate on one customer at a time and leave the one looking after the counter to deal with customers of the shop floor; or leave the answering of telephones to one of the others waiting to sign up customers eager to get their mitts on a new phone; or maybe, perish-the-thought, not try and deal with her colleagues customers as well?  But, alas, no.  She was so busy with everything except my transaction that she stuffed it up half-way though!  It only took an hour and ten minutes but now I am armed with the latest that Steve Jobs (RIP) has to offer.  The wife has now inherited the trusty ol’ 3GS.

The gathering of “Team Dave” this afternoon involved much setting up of bikes and packing of various bits of kit.  As usual for this ride we are preparing for everything from summer sun to winter sleet after some light rain and cold winds swept through Melbourne.  Tonight we filled up on carbs at Café Grand Forno in Ashburton and after a belly full of pasta and wine I’m sure none of us will be looking forward to getting up just after 4am tomorrow, especially if the wind and rain are still around.

“Rouse” is now 5h away…