About the bike

Crosscheck redux

2012-01-28T18:26:00.001+11:00

The Crosscheck has done some epic rides over the years but was looking a bit the worse for wear. For the last few months the frame has hung in the shed awaiting a new mission. A fresh paintjob and it's as good as new, ready for another 30,000km. Mostly parts from the shed, downtube friction shifters, fat tyres and a hard road bike saddle that makes me miss my Brooks, but keeps the weight down. Without lights, mudguards and racks, the old girl feels like a racer.

We did a short test ride today, which will be followed up with a longer ride out into the wilds tomorrow. Will take my mind off the fact I'm skipping the the carnival of suffering that is the Alpine Classic. Good luck to all those who are riding, while you're heading up Buffalo, I'll be having a swim in the Weld River.

308km so far this year.

Dickhead of the week

2012-01-18T16:47:00.001+11:00

Former Australian cricketer, uber-bogan and all-round oxygen thief Shane Warne has had a funny run of luck lately. Last week he had a bleat about cyclists riding two abreast, something that's perfectly legal in every state in Australia. Drawing on a fairly limited store of intellect, Warne managed to trot out many of the same tired old cliches that most cyclists would be well familiar with, to the delight of some of his dopier followers and the dismay of anyone who rides a bike. It's a familiar debate, we've seen it time and time again on the websites and blogs and comments sections. Nothing new or interesting here. For shits and giggles I've reproduced it below, read from the bottom up:

warne888 Shane Warne

Please do something about it council and govt - single file all bike riding on the road or a ban for 12 months ! And pay rego - fair ?

13 Jan Favorite Retweet Reply

warne888 Shane Warne

Ps actually if you are going to ride on the roads you should pay rego and have a number plate, only fair Once again,single file please !!!!

13 Jan

warne888 Shane Warne

Seriously I'm all for allowing bike riders to ride on the rd's etc but please act responsible and stay in file...

13 Jan

Yesterday the plot took an interesting twist. Poor old Warnie was sitting innocently in his luxury car at traffic lights when for no reason he was attacked by a maniac on two wheels. Again his first post is at the bottom:

warne888 Shane Warne

its amazing how things pan out, i have only been saying recently please bike riders obey the road rules and keep it safe for everyone ...

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

that i was being polite and careful and the drivers around him otherwise if anyone decided to be an idiot then he was in real trouble.

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

anyway, i drive off he rides off and everyone was shaking their head at this bike rider as he was being very dangerous. he was very lucky

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

can't move nor anyone else, i go to slowly move around him and he just moves with me, yep clipped his tyre and he then abuses me some more.

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

are you doing he abuses me i say get off the road, he stops in front of me and holds up traffic and just stays on his bike ! so, now i.....

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

he pulls out in front of me whacks my bonnet with his hand and pulls out in front of all the traffic, i yell out hey buddy what the hell ...

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

thump on my boot, looked in mirror a bike rider hit my car then held onto my car to pull himself through the traffic, lights change.....

21 hours ago

warne888 Shane Warne

guys stay with me here its important... so there i was driving home after a training session at the mcg.. pulled up at the lights, felt a..

21 hours ago

The story got some play in the papers this morning, quoting Warne's tweets. Turns out the cyclist saw Warne's tirade and came up with a totally different version of events. Some highlights:

“What are you doing? You don’t own the road! Get out of the way” he yelled repeatedly. I shook my head and probably yelled something similarly inane back. Now even more agitated the driver continued to yell, “you don’t own the road”.

"Before I could the driver lurched his car forward forcing my bike wheel and almost my leg under the front of his car. Dumbfounded at how overtly aggressive the driver had been and aware that we were now holding up the traffic, I pulled my bike from under the car and attempted to continue riding. My wheel was jammed against the frame of my bike and the chain was tangled so I had to carry it to the footpath to fix it."

Long story short, the bloke says Warne drove into him and failed to stop. He posted a photo of his buckled back wheel to support his version of events and reported the incident to the police who are apparently doing nothing because the damage to the bike is a civil matter. And oddly, Warne now just wants to put it all behind him as quickly as possible.

warne888 Shane Warne

Have just seen bike riders version of events, please buddy - whatever ! I'm not going to get into a 5 year old tit for tat..,

3 hours ago

I suppose it's too much to expect Warne to be some sort of role model. For a bloke who wants cyclists to obey the law, he's got a funny way of showing the respect he demands. By his own account he ran into someone and left the scene of an accident. He may have been a first-class cricketer but his conduct over the last week does nothing more than show him up as a first class dill.

How to avoid a dooring

2012-01-14T18:54:00.000+11:00

The Age newspaper in Melbourne has recently run a series of articles on doorings: accidents that occur when parked motorists inadvertently open their doors in the path of cyclists. It gets people hurt in two ways - from an impact with the door or they crash into or are hit by other traffic when they swerve to avoid the sudden obstacle in their path. After two articles on a young man killed in a dooring incident, the paper also ran a story about a rider who was injured. Finally The Age's motoring section called for stickers to be placed on rear vision mirrors to alert drivers to the danger. It's nice the paper is looking out for cyclists but in my opinion this campaign has missed the point. One hundred per cent of dooring incidents can be avoided if cyclists take greater care and responsibility for their own safety.

Dooring is a well-known hazard for cyclists, it has been for years. It's also an easy one to avoid and here's how:

Never, ever, ride in the door zone: the space in which an opening door would hit you. In practical terms this is about a metre or slightly more. A metre and a half and you're even safer.
When riding along a line of parked cars, keep an eye out ahead for signs of occupants about to exit. Look at the rear vision mirror, look for a head in the driver's seat, brake lights going off, for a door slightly cracked open. Pay particular attention to cars that have just pulled into a space.
Hold a steady and predictable line, do not weave into spaces between blocs of parked cars. Suddenly appearing from a gap is another good way to get hit.
And if your journey regularly takes you along a route which forces you to ride alongside long lines of parked cars, particularly if there are other hazards like fast moving traffic or tram tracks, give serious consideration to finding another route without these hazards.

I have a feeling doorings are on the rise in Melbourne because the current bike boom has lured lots more novice riders onto the streets. That's something to be celebrated but better education is needed of some of the avoidable risks, such as dooring. It would be nice if people didn't fling their doors open without looking, but there's plenty of other things motorists should be doing to make us all safer on the roads and somehow I don't think we're ever going to get to them all. Cyclists have to most to gain by taking responsibility for their own safety, and now you know how.

166km so far this year.

An old friend moves on

2012-01-12T19:43:00.001+11:00

Over the couple of years or so I've been reducing the number of bikes in the shed. I know the ideal number is supposed to be n+1, "n" being the number you currently own, but for me there's nothing smart about hanging on to a bike you don't ride and is taking up space. Over the last few years I've given away an old hardtail mountain bike and the folding bike I bought in China and sold my full suspension mountain bike and another folder I bought from ebay on a whim. Looking at last year's rides, I did the vast majority on just two bikes and if I had my way - and if it were possible to find a fast road bike which handled panniers and rough dirt roads with elan - I'd own just one which did everything.

Me on the Centurion during a triathlon in about 1985.

The hardest bike to part with wasn't a complete bike at all. My old steel Centurion frame has been hanging in the shed after I sold all my vintage Cmapagnolo gear on ebay three years ago. It's a lovely steel Japanese-made racing frame built at the height of the triathlon boom the mid 1980s, well made and still in fine condition. I've owned that bike since the year after I left high school and it was a bike I raced and competed in triathlons on, so being a little sentimental about it was perhaps understandable.

The bike has stayed with me over the years, through moves from state to state but languished in a shed for a while before I resurrected it as a flat bar road bike when I lived in Melbourne. A few years later I had the bike resprayed and restored it to its former glory, though the paintjob didn't last too well. I rode it while I lived in Melbourne, including a fun few weeks to and from the Commonwealth Games media centre and on a couple of Audax rides. It was as smooth and as fast as I remembered - responding easily to a kick in a sprint and the handling razor sharp.

After the 2007 restoration.

With my growing interest in Audax riding through and perhaps getting older, I've been putting in fewer and few miles on the old race bike and after stripping the last paint job back to the glorious original chrome underneath, the frame again hung in the shed awaiting another restoration that I knew would most likely never come.

A few months ago a friend at work who is a keen cyclist mentioned he was keen to put together a road bike but had a very tight budget of just $400. Richard is a mad-keen mountain biker but wanted something decent for his 20km commute to work, so it seemed right that my quarter-century old racer should find a second life with someone who would appreciate it. I dug out a back wheel I wasn't using any more and some old cranks and other bits and pieces and pointed him in the direction of the fine folk at the Hobart Bike Kitchen and he was off. He's done a great job of the rebuild and the bike even featured Ride On the magazine of Bicycle Victoria (which you can almost read by clicking the image at the top of this post and zooming in a bit). It's a fitting tribute to a bike which has served me well. I was delighted to spot my old bike in the rack at work the other day, it was like running into an old friend. Far from being sad or sentimental to farewell an old friend, I'm quite chuffed to know it's going to be going to be ridden and appreciated for years to come.

105km so far this year.

2011 by the numbers

2012-01-01T14:52:00.000+11:00

The figures are in and 2011 was an unspectacular year on the bike for me. It's probably not all that surprising I came up with just 4208km for the year, down about 1000km on my long term average. In my defence I had August almost completely off the bike and was laid low by illness twice for three weeks or so each time in the second half of the year, so I'm not going to beat myself up about it too much. It was a year of change for my little "fleet" too, gone is the KHS folder I bought on a whim from ebay and gone too is my dual suspension mountain bike. The proceeds of those sales went towards my lovely new steel-framed Thorn Audax which is now the bike I ride just about every day.

The year's total came in 118 rides of an average distance of 35km and an average duration of 1h48m. My average speed of 19.64km/h was about 0.5km/h up on the previous year, although what exactly that means I really don't know. Just over 78% of my rides were on either my Surly Crosscheck or its replacement Thorn Audax. My old Bianchi did just 688km (15.8% of my distance) last year and my beloved Surly Long Haul Trucker covered 274km (6.2% of the total). On average I spent just over four hours a week on the bike - and that is the subject of one of my New Year's resolutions. In my best year - 2006 - I managed close to six hours a week on the bike, which gives me something to aim for.In that year I managed to maintain an average of 17.7km a day, last year I managed only 11.5km. Doing fewer Audax rides since my move to Tasmania hasn't helped, but the first day of the New Year is not the time for excuses.

Riding less meant blogging less in 2011with just 22 posts continuing a steady decline from the heady 58 I managed in 2006 and 2007 when I started the blog to keep my motivation levels up and track my progress as a rider. I'll kid myself that the quality has improved, but will try to be more industrious in 2012 but working full time in an increasingly demanding job as a newspaper reporter does limit the energy I have left over for blogging. Even so, the blog enjoyed 4810 visitors during the year, which is up slightly on the year before and attracted visitors from just about every country on earth - something which is a source of constant astonishment and enjoyment to me. To each of you my thanks for dropping by. I hope you gained some small measure of information or enjoyment. Special thanks to those who come by regularly to see what's up.

I've now covered almost 36,000km since getting back on the bike in 2005 and have spent 1700 hours in the saddle on 909 separate occasions - the equivalent of 42 working weeks! Here's to a successful 2012 wherever you may be, may it find you always with a tailwind at your back and a broad grin on your face. And on that note, I'm off for a ride.

0km so far this year.

Son Delux hub

2011-12-31T19:03:00.003+11:00

A fair proportion of the search engine queries which land people on this blog are about lighting. A lot of people in particular are interested in dynamo setups. I use a Son hub and Edelux front light on the bike I ride about 80 per cent of the time. As I've said before, I'm a huge fan of dynamo lighting because it's always there, ready to be turned on as required and never runs flat. The only drawback is a relatively high initial expense. Cyclists have been spoiled by rapid advances in lighting technology in recent years, particularly with LED lighting which draws less current than the old halogen setups and doesn't burn out bulbs every hundred hours or so.

Despite about four years of good service from my old model Son hub I decided to again raid my savings account for a Christmas treat to myself and splurge on one of the new smaller, lighter Son Delux hubs. These were originally designed for 20 inch folding bikes but by happy accident were discovered to be perfect to drive the new generation of LED lights.

I built the new 32-hole hub up onto a rim a couple of weeks ago and have done a few shorter rides so far and I'm very happy with the result. The resistance of the hub is not noticeable at all when it's turned on, so I've taken to leaving my front and rear lights on during the day. A few friends who has driven past me in the daytime have mentioned how effective the front light in particular is. I haven't done a night ride yet - the daylight hours in Tasmania at this time of year are very long.

I note from Jan Heine's website that Son has a newer model out to address some minor aesthetic and technical issues with this hub. He's written an explanation here. The differences are too tiny for me to be bothered with, this is a hub I'm planning to be happy with for many thousands of kilometres from now.

(If you found this post useful, you might be interested in my posts on the Schmidt Edelux LED front light or the Busch & Muller Seculite Plus Rear Light. I'm expecting to post a review of the Busch & Müller DToplight XS Plus in the coming weeks.

4179km so far this year.

The stylish randonneur

2011-12-20T10:39:00.002+11:00

Most of the time I ride in a pair of old Shimano touring shoes which look like sneakers but have the advantage of stiff soles and standard SPD cleats. Being easy to walk in they're perfect for most purposes but the soles are a bit too soft for longer Audax rides. My faithful Shimano SPD-SL road shoes are just about worn out after years of faithful service, so I've been hunting around for a high quality replacement.

Way back when I raced bikes on the road in the mid 1980s, leather shoes were all the rage. They had both leather uppers and thick leather soles and big slotted cleats which locked in onto the back plate of a pedal. Toe clips and straps held the whole lot rock solid. They were impossible to walk in for more than a few steps because the large, often metal, cleats protruded from the base of the sole. Despite the fact that the SPDs are a much better system, the old leather shoes were far more comfortable - particularly on long rides.

Since I've been salting away a few dollars each week into a "bike account" all year I've been able to lash out and treat myself to a few bike items in the lead-up to Christmas. When I saw a company called Dromarti offering old-style leather shoes I didn't need much prompting. (I've since noticed Vittoria offering a similar pair of leather shoes with the model name 1976.)

At $A275 shipped, they were't cheap but my first impressions based on around 100km of riding are generally favourable. The shoes are made by Italian footwear firm Marresi and come in either black or a very fetching brown. They're as stylish as all hell. Like leather walking boots, leather cycling shoes take a bit of time to wear in and we still have a little way to go but the wonderful comfort of leather I remember from way back is there in spades with the added stiffness of a plastic sole. They're ok to walk in too, though they feel a little narrow after the Shimano shoes. Something tells me this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

4011km so far this year.

Some days were just made for riding.

2011-12-16T15:28:00.000+11:00

Hope it's the same where you are.

3979km so far this year.

1000km review: Thorn Audax 3

2011-12-14T14:24:00.000+11:00

Having done 1000km+ on the Thorn it seems an appropriate time as any for a longer-term review of the Thorn Audax 3 frame I bought earlier this year. On the whole I'm very impressed, although of course there's a few minor niggles that hold it just short of perfection. (Mind you I should be pretty happy since I built it up myself!) One of my biggest complaints is that I haven't had enough time to do as many miles as I'd like. It hasn't been my best year on the bike, I'll hold back on the excuses.

Positives first. The Thorn rides well, the steering is responsive but not overly so and it isn't greatly affected by the weight of a handlebar bag. I haven't noticed any toeclip overlap. The relatively tight rear triangle means the Thorn accelerates well enough to feel sporty and makes light work of a quick stab up short rollers, but at the same time it's comfortable for long distances and rides fine no-hands. The ample braze-ons on the Thorn meant that fitting racks and mudguards was a breeze. I'm deliriously happy with the Gilles Berthoud front rack with its intergral light mount and matching decaleur to hold my handlebar bag snugly in place and of course my Son hub and matching Edelux are a match made in heaven too. The Tubus Fly rear rack is light and handy for strapping a raincoat to or mounting a couple of light panniers for a longer jaunt.

Minor niggles then: I'd like to be able to fit wider tyres. This is one of those compromises that comes up with touring-style frames. If you want cailper brakes then there's a practical limit to how wide a tyre you can fit. On the Thorn, with mudguards, that limit is about 28mm, although it's happier with 23mm tyres so I'll stick to those for the time being despite preferring wider rubber. The integral pump peg, while handy, is designed for a pump which appears to be no longer made, the magnificent Zefal HPX. I'm still sorting out some minor wheel and tyre issues, but once those are done I reckon we'll be as close to perfection as you can get!

3,952km so far this year.

2011-10-09T09:57:00.000+11:00

Winter isn't a good time for cycling in Tasmania. Work's been busy, there's been lots to do at home, it's been cold and rainy and windy and very little riding has been done. I have lots of excuses. When there's not much riding, not much blogging either. Hopefully things will get better soon, because too much work and not enough riding makes for a dull life.

3528km so far this year.

The new whip

2011-06-26T20:47:00.003+10:00

After around 30,000km of loyal service my Surly Cross Check has completed what was probably its last ride. Yesterday morning I swapped the parts over to a Thorn Audax frame - ordered over the internet and delivered in about two weeks. I'd had my eye on a Velo Orange Rando but their requirement you pay in full before they quote their shipping costs plus those astonishing costs (around $US300 to post a frame to Tasmania versus around $75 from the UK) meant the Thorn was much value for money.

I'll admit to being just a little bit sentimental about my last ride on the Cross Check, though it was just a short trip up the cycleway from work. We've done some miles together: two Oppys, several Mallee Routes, my first 300km ride, a most enjoyable tour last year, the Dovernighter and many other backcountry trips. It's a bike that's served me well but it's showing the wear and tear you'd expect from a frame that's been ridden hard and long across all sorts of terrain. To give the Crosscheck its rightful due, I'm actually replacing it with two bikes - the Thorn as a fast tourer and Audax bike, and a yet-to-be-decided back country bike-packing cyclocross bike - probably based on a Geneis Croix de Fer frame.

The problem with the Cross Check is that it's not designed for longer rides, a 'fault' - if it is one that - it shared with my Bianchi. I needed something fast, which easily took lights and mudguards and with the ability to carry a little gear, say something that I could ride for a week to to Mallee Routes for example and then use for the 600km. The Cross Check and the Bianchi seem to reach their limits around 300km.

The bike went together reasonably easily. There was some fiddling with the mudguards - as there usually is - but apart from that it was pretty straightforward. It seems to be everything I wanted is there: there's no toe-clip overlap at all and there are plenty of braze-ons for racks and mudguards and the like. (Though the second waterbottle mount is a bit low, meaning it clashes with the front derailleur band. Some filing will be required.) Being able to use caliper brakes is a blessing after years of cantis although much of the benefit is probably aesthetic. (The long-reach Miche brakes were a real bargain for just $27 the set at wiggle.co.uk). Speaking of aesthetics, the fender line is also much neater than on the Cross Check. The tighter clearance however means I'm limited to 28mm tyres at the widest. Thanks to some cracks in my Son generator hub rim I'm using the Shimano road wheels from the Bianchi for a few days until I can replace the rim, so I'm without lights - a problem I hope to remedy pretty quickly. A bike without lights (or fenders) just isn't really that useful a bike in my opinion.

So how does it ride? Very nicely. The steering is noticeably quicker than the Crosscheck, more like a racing bike than a tourer, but it still rides just fine no hands. The shorter chainstays mean the bike handles short bursts of acceleration well. There are a few minor quirks that will take some getting used to - like a tendancy to pop wheelies with a rear load aboard up steep hills. I think I need slightly wider and more supple tyres than the 25mm Gatorskins I'm running, particularly on dirt roads. I need to sort out a front rack for my handlebar bag. On the whole I'm very happy with the frame. It seems slightly lighter and just as comfortable as the Cross Check. I have some big plans for this bike - if I share have half the adventures on this as I had on the Surly, I'll be well pleased. With some luck we'll go far this new bike and I. My only worry is that I might have to find a new nickname.

2744km so far this year.

The good oil from Surly HQ

2011-06-18T16:24:00.000+10:00

Nice piece just posted on the Surly blog. Sums up some of my feelings quite well. A taste:

If you think your bike looks good, it does.

If you like the way your bike rides, it’s an awesome bike.

You don’t need to spend a million dollars to have a great bike, but if you do spend a million dollars and know what you want you’ll probably also have a great bike.

Yes, you can tour on your bike – whatever it is.

Yes, you can race on your bike – whatever it is.

Yes, you can commute on your bike – whatever it is.

26” wheels or 29” or 650b or 700c or 24” or 20” or whatever – yes, that wheel size is rad and you’ll probably get where you’re going.

More here.

Dovernighter

2011-06-18T14:49:00.004+10:00

Outbound route: 84.0km, 1694m climbing. Return route: 67.4km, 1024m climbing.

Me and Kiwi tackling a climb on the Woodhooker Highway Photo: Ben.

In the forests of Southern Tasmania lurk miles and miles of gravel logging roads. During the week they're the playground of massive speeding log trucks but on the weekend they're generally free of traffic bar the occasional lost tourist and the odd woodhooker seeking to scrounge a trailer-load of free firewood from under the noses of the forestry folk and the prefect destination for the adventurous cyclist.

Ben and I had been talking of a trip to Maydena, no mean undertaking at 80km, strung together by my mate Keith from long experience of these wild roads and careful gazing at satellite maps online. Sadly I'd had to cancel at the last minute because of illness and Benny and some of the lads from Bottles and Chains decided to tackle the mythical Dovernighter - a long lope through the forests and ranges that stretch from Judbury to Dover, a journey that takes in just a few hundred metres of sealed road. I mapped the route on RideWithGPS and hoped I might come good in time.

By Saturday I was feeling a lot better and after completing the Dash of Honour without major mishap I decided I'd be ok for Sunday's ride. I loaded the Crosscheck with two small panniers and a handlbar bag and hoped the load wouldn't be too much for the climbing that lay ahead. The lads had breakfast in Huonville and I met them at the Judbury Hall where Kiwi fixed a problem with the back tyre on his stylish hardtail mountain bike. The first ten kilometres rolled under our wheels peacefully and we spun up the Dennison Range, the first of the days hills and one which I particularly dislike for its length and steepness.

The hill beyond the Denison Range took up to the Ta Ann verneer mill and the bridge over the mightly Huon River, swollen from recent rains. We took a break and had a bite to eat before setting off on the section Ben calls The Woodhooker Highway, a broad smooth, gently uphill road which the trucks from the mill use to get to the main road at Geveston. It was on the last climb up to the Arve Road we realised that we were in for a long day in the saddle.

A late lunch was had at the side of the road before we remounted to tackle what I had perhaps undersold as a 200m climb to the high point of the ride. It turned out to be a bit closer to 450m. The general truthfulness and accuracy of newspaper reporters was called into question as Mischa and Kiwi disappeared up the grade and Benny taught me how to put new emphasis on old swear words as we wheeled our bikes each corner to reveal even more climbing. It wasn't until 3.30pm that we were at the summit.

From that point on, my memory told me that the ride was basically downhill and I was happy that on this occasion I was correct. Winter days in Southern Tasmania are short and we were running out of daylight, so we donned shell jackets and got on with the riding. We zoomed down the seemingly endless descent, dodging the larger rocks on corners and dared glances at the stunning mountain scenery as we went. In an hour we covered more distance than the previous three. In time we reached a sign proclaiming 14km to Dover - further than we might have hoped though that leg too was mostly downhill and as darkness neared we were able to crank out the short distance into town without major difficulty, though we were all pretty pleased to see the pub. Several beers and a big feed followed and we settled in for the night in the near-waterfront house Ben had arranged for our accomodation.

The holiday Monday morning found us not quite as fresh as the day before, but an easier ride beckoned, for we'd decided to take the Esparance Coast Road home. Leaving our digs, we stopped for a hearty breakfast at the Dover takeway store and pedalled through the crisp morning along the water, marvelling at the views. And they only got better. After cresting a couple of large climbs we settled into a pattern of repeating undulations, delivering us breathtaking views over the D'Entrecasteaux Channel and the Huon River and taking us through pretty little settlements of holiday shacks. Only the odd behaviour of one driver who seemed unable to pass a line of cyclists riding single file marred a perfect morning of riding.

We allowed ourselves a coffee break in the weak winter sunshine at Geeveston and again 20km later at Huonville, where Ben said goodbye and the three of us turned to Judbury. The last 15 kilometres are familiar roads for me and after bidding Mischa and Kiwi goodbye it was only the final 200m of vertical to home that tested my legs before a welcome beer and soak in the bath.

It may not be a ride I do that often, but the Dovernighter turned out to be just as good as we'd hoped. Now Maydena beckons.

Mischa cranks out the last mile to Judbury as the sun sinks.

First day ride profile: the third hill is the big one.

Cover boy Steve

2011-06-18T12:36:00.001+10:00

I've made my living as a journalist for the last 20 years (not that you'd know that from the general standard of this blog) so seeing a story of mine in print isn't the big deal for me it once was. But for some reason getting a story published in the Audax Australia magazine is still a big thrill for me. And getting the cover shot with a photo I took of my mate Steve on the Oppy is an even bigger blast again.

Dash of Honour II

2011-06-18T12:10:00.002+10:00

I spent the second half of last week fighting off a stomach bug, so I was a little surprised to find myself even considering the Dash of Honour. The Dash is a 100-lap, nighttime race without rules around a 300m sort-of cobblestone course at Hobart's cenotaph. The ride looked like fun so I resolved to just roll around at a moderate pace for my own amusement. I was preparing the Crosscheck for a weekend of touring, so I switched out the Grand Bois tyres for some Schwalbe Marathons to better hold the track and whacked on a front light after finding some cracks in the rim on my generator hub. Bummer, another repair job for down the track.

There was a bit over a dozen starters, riding everything from road bikes to a BMX to some sort of Frankenbike with a sidecar attached. The pace was furious from the get-go and after missing a gear change, I was quickly lapped by the field. No big problem as I wasn't intending to be particularly competitive but I found my pace increasing. I slowly reeled in some of the fading frontmarkers as other riders dropped out to drink beer on the sidelines. Despite my increase in pace, I was never in danger of catching the leaders, partly because I wasn't exactly sure how many laps I had completed.

I'm sure the designers of this piece of track never intended it for this sort of event, but it was actually quite amenable to bike racing. At around 30km/h, each lap rolled by in about 30 seconds, with an uphill and a downhill straight and an corresponding fast and slow hairpin corner at each end. Not sure a touring bike is the best thing for this sort of thing, but once the Surly got up to speed there was no stopping her.

Eventually, after 100, or perhaps 103 circuits, all but one of the remaining riders had finished and I decided to call it a day. Where did I finish? Not so sure. Fifth? Fourth perhaps? No big deal, the Dash of Honour was a delightful way to fill in a chilly Saturday evening. Thanks to Bicycle Tim for organising the event.

2656km so far this year.

Short term review: Grand Bois 30mm tyres

2011-05-21T17:17:00.002+10:00

Contrary to popular perception, narrow tyres aren't necessarily what most cyclists need. They might be fine for racing, but for the vast majority of us a wider tyre is going to be just as quick, a lot more comfortable, safer and durable.

I've been running Schwalbe Marathon 32mm tyres for the last few months. They're impressive tyres to be sure, plush and sure-footed and resistant to punctures on the dirt roads I do most of my travelling on. The only downside is that they're heavy and not terribly sexy.

I treated myself to a pair of Grand Bois Cypres a month ago, but thanks to various commitments I haven't had much of a chance to test them out until this weekend. They are a very impressive tyre.

First impressions are they they're light. Thin-walled and with a folding bead, there's not much to them. They went onto the rims fine and present a pleasantly rounded profile at 70 psi, which is what I'm choosing to run them at for the time being. A little more air might make them a shade faster, but at the cost of comfort. They're sold as 30mm tyres, but they're closer to 32mm.

On the road the Grand Bois Cypres live up to their reputation as a supple smooth-rolling tyre. That lovely hum that good road tyres make is just audible, even at the lower pressures. They soak up the bumps nicely and feel safe through corners. They feel particularly smooth at lower speeds - something I've noticed on climbs. There's not much tread on them and it's not really thick, but customer reviews and none other than Jan Heine reckon they're durable and puncture resistant. Time will tell, although 70km of dirt roads over the last few days hasn't put a mark on them.

They're made in Japan, apparently for the delightful Grand Bois bike shop. I'd love one of their stunning Model C frames pictured right, though I don't speak Japanese and very possibly don't have the money.

What I like most about these wider, softer tyres is that they give me the ability to safely roll off the shoulder onto the dirt to let traffic by. The Grand Bois are as sure-footed as the Schwalbes in that respect. And are they fast? They'll do fine. A steady ride this morning turned into a personal best for a course I ride most weeks, so they're certainly not slowing me down.

2291km so far this year.

Long term review: cheap cranksets

2011-05-21T10:51:00.000+10:00

You can spend a lot of money on a crankset. There's a lovely Campagnolo piece for sale at Wiggle for $1077. Lots of carbon, weighs in at 585 grams. Nice, thanks, but I'll pass.

My tastes run to the more utilitarian end of the spectrum where you're also likely to run into a little more sanity than the 53/39 tooth chainrings that come as stock standard these days on just about every bike from a Tour de France wannabe to hybrid commuters. Big gears are fine for sprinting, when you're going to hit 60km/h or more. They're of no use at all the rest of the time. I'd like to keep my knees thanks.

About a year ago I bought myself a Shimano Deore crankset for the Crosscheck. It was relatively inexpensive and had external bearings so it seemed to be an upgrade. I whipped the old Stronglight Impact crankset off and sold it on ebay.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that the chainring teeth on the Deore crankset were hooked. This isn't that unusual in cranksets that have done hard miles, but this crankset is barely a year old and has probably only done about 4000km. Not real flash.

So it's back to the Stronglight crankset (723 grams) for me. It's good looking, a basic workhorse, though it doesn't even have ramps or pins to help with the shifting (though it doesn't seem to affect performance) but it's light and tough and durable and works just fine for my purposes. (It's reviewed here with muted enthusiasm) I even had a couple of old bottom brackets lying around the workshop which it fitted on just fine. The biggest advantage is that is comes with 44-34-24 ratios, which are just perfect for the sort of riding around I do, where speeds of 60km/h plus are a little uncommon. And for only around a hundred bucks, they're a bargain too.

2256km so far this year.

The Man with the Hammer

2011-05-16T19:15:00.001+10:00

I took our two dogs for a six or eight kilometre ride today, something they need every day or two or they get restless. We arrived home, but then the restless one was me and something seemed to be calling me to head out exploring so I locked the dogs inside and turned straight back around. I'd had a light lunch about an hour before and briefly considered grabbing an energy bar but couldn't find one in a hurry and I was just keen to get out on the road.

It had been my rough plan to just take an easy spin out to the foot of the Denison Range about 10km from home, take some photos of the view and spin home. It's a pretty flat ride by Tasmanian standards, with only a 300m climb right at the end. There were dark clouds scudding across the valley, though it didn't look like rain was overly likely. The first few kilometres went by pretty quickly as I burned off some excess energy and settled into a rhythm on the Long Haul Trucker.

I arrived at the bottom of the Denison Range climb and decided to ride a little way up to enjoy the view. I took some photos and I noticed the Lonnavale Road I've always wanted to check out was just down the hill. Not being in a hurry I rolled down the hill and turned left.

I've probably mentioned it before, but the countryside in this part of the world is absolutely stunning. The well-made dirt road snakes along the river valley, there are little farms and scattered houses on either side and there is hardly any traffic. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds and silhouetted the trees on the ridgelines in the distance. So far, so good.

The fist pangs of hunger hit about five kilometres up the road. I knew what would happen eventually, but I thought I'd tempt fate and see how far the road went. This was virgin territory and who knows what wonders lie beyond the next bend? About eight kilometres from the turnoff I passed the campground, then a crossroads and ended up at a bridge across the Russell River which seemed as good a place as any to turn around. The road back was mainly downhill, I had a gentle tailwind and was still making good time and although my energy levels were starting to drop I was confident I'd just make it the remaining dozen kilometres or so home before I blew up.

There's a famous Daniel Rebour cartoon showing what happens to cyclists who don't match their energy intake to their expenditure. It shows some poor bastard copping it from The Man with the Hammer. It's a pretty accurate depiction of what happens. In a more innocent age, we used to call it "bonking": there's a gradual lead-up to be sure, but ignore the warning signs for long enough and one minute you're moving ok, the next you're sitting starving and spent at the roadside wondering how the hell you're going to get home. It's sufficiently memorable that I can say with certainty that it's happened to me exactly four times in my life, and it's not a pleasant experience. By kilometre 35, with 5km left, the Man with the Hammer was about 100 metres behind me and gaining fast. I was pushing lower and lower gears and my pace was slowing and all I could think about was how soon I might be able to get something to eat.

The Man struck about two kilometres from home, a short distance up the long climb to my place. I was ok, then I wasn't. I gave up pedalling and slowly wheeled the bike up the road, wishing I'd been slightly less ambitious with the distance or at least taken something to keep the hunger at bay. All in all not a bad 40km jaunt, but the visit from the Man With the Hammer is not something I'm going to need reminding of for a while.

2204km so far this year.

Kaoota - Margate tramway

2011-05-15T16:49:00.000+10:00

Having the right bike for the job is an overrated obsession. I've recently sold my mountain bike, so my venerable Surly Long Haul Trucker is filling in the the gaps. It's supposedly an on-road tourer but plenty tough so I thought I'd give it a blast on the Kaoota tramway.

This ride is a favourite of my mate Benny, who is sporting an unstoppable new 29er. We met at Margate and spun up the hill to Allens Rivulet, where the climbing began in earnest, up a long gravel road I've long wanted to follow on a bike. Despite my fairly ordinary fitness we were up at the start of the track in less than an hour having greatly enjoyed the climb up past the shacks perched improbably high on Kaoota Road. What came next was even better.

The tramway itself winds down from around 400m to sea level over 12km. You seldom get back what you put in on the climb, but the gentle gradient prolonged the pleasure. It has has been raining a bit lately so the first three kilometres or so was an interesting experience on the wide slicks, the front wheel jagging left and right on the greasy trail as I tried to pick a line though the worst of it. I let a little air out of both tyres, which seemed to help.

The track dried out from there on in and we were treated to a thrilling gradual descent through the forest. Ben, familiar with the track and daring on his new bike, disappeared from view as I picked my way down the trail. Some knobbies might be handy if I'm doing this sort of thing more often, though the bike handled the conditions surprisingly well. The return to Margate took in some of the local horse trails between grassy paddocks.

I love it when a ride I've wanted to do for a while lives up to my expectations, and this ride delivers in spades. Hopefully I'll be back for another go soon.

2165km so far this year.

Mr Abbott's beater bike

2011-05-14T10:59:00.003+10:00

It's reasonably well known federal opposition leader Tony Abbott is a keen cyclist and sometime triathlete. There were some nice shots of him riding up and down Black Mountain in Canberra braving the pre-dawn chill in the middle of the week. Keen cyclists learned something about the man who would be prime minister:

1. He has a winter beater bike in Canberra. It looks to be a steel-framed Merinda running an old eight- or nine-speed group by the look of it. The bike he's most often seen out on in Sydney is a carbon fibre Trek.

2. He's put his front wheel in backwards. The quick release lever is on the wrong side.

3. In addition to that, his front brake quick release is open.

4. It's not as obvious from this photograph, but his saddle is a little high.

Friends don't let friends ride carbon, but would you vote for a man who likes an each way bet?

(Update. I'm reliably informed Mr Abbott's beater has an aluminium frame. Shows how much I know.)

2111km so far this year.

I spoil myself again

2011-04-30T18:09:00.001+10:00

I bought myself a natty Gilles Berthoud handlebar bag as a birthday present last week to match the little panniers I bought a while back. (Bless the strong Australian dollar and Internet shopping.) After using a handlebar bag so successfully on my tour last year I decided I'd spend the money to buy a bag which would enable me to stash things like arm warmers and beanies while on the go and having easy access to snacks and camera et cetera. I was keen on the Berthoud because it sits low - below the level of the handlebar - unlike the Topeak bag I was using.

The Berthoud bag hasn't disappointed: it looks a million dollars and sits nicely on my Nitto front rack. It is certainly commodious. I did have to relocate my headlight onto the rack, but that was no big deal.

I have a a cold at the moment and I'm unable to ride beyond short jaunts up and down the driveway. Perhaps tomorrow I'll take if for a test on the rough roads between here and town. The only drawback with such a nice piece of kit is that all that French elegance makes the Crosscheck look a little shabby. Perhaps a new frame is in order. With the Australian dollar doing so well, it's certainly being considered.

Sometimes it's the little things.

2011-04-03T08:40:00.001+10:00

I'd planned with Bicycle Tim and Benny to go for a ride on Saturday morning and for some reason was really looking forward to riding the Bianchi. After commuting on the Crosscheck all week the red racer makes a nice change of pace, so I was up early, switching the lightweight tyres for something more durable before I put the bike in the car for the quick trip into town.

Once there and unloaded, it only took a dozen pedal strokes to realise something was badly wrong with the gears. The right brifter was all, well mushy, and the gears at first changed sluggishly and then jammed. Bugger. It didn't take long to figure out the rear gear cable had snapped.

I've heard of this happening, but I've never experienced it myself: the cable had broken inside the shifter about an inch from the nipple and my attempts to change gears had only succeeded in winding the frayed remains further inside the mechanism. It looked to me like my plans for a ride were over.

Hoping Tim might arrive shortly with a spare cable (he did!) I unwrapped the double thickness of bar tape and took the lever off. There followed an hour or fiddling with improvised tools before I was finally able to coax the cable end out. Five minutes later, I was good to go, and we had an extremely pleasant 60km ride with a coffee stop in Cygnet.

It was a bastard of a repair job and would have been almost impossible to do by the roadside, almost but not quite enough to drive a man back into the arms of simple, old fashioned and ever-reliable friction shifting. How close must this cable have been to failing during the entire Oppy? It had literally two or three more shifts left in it, finally giving way in the next 200 metres I rode. How lucky was I not to DNF because of a dozen strands of cheap wire? Here's a photo of what is possibly the smallest thing that nearly ruined a Saturday for me:

Guess who will be making a point of inspecting and changing his cables more regularly now? And carrying a spare!

1690km so far this year.

Travelling light

2011-03-26T16:24:00.000+11:00

When I did a week of touring last year on the way to the Mallee Routes audax ride I cut my load down to the bare minimum and it worked really well. I had everything I needed and I was able to cover good distances each day without feeling I was being slowed down by too much gear. I made a mental note to write something on ultralightweight cycle touring for this blog but then of course forgot all about it. My memory was jogged when I was going through some photos today.

The photo to the top left (ignore the appalling hotel bedspread background) contains everything I took for a week of touring. From left to right, the most important bits were: wool jersey, merino t-shirt, coolmax t-shirt and lightweight long pants; three pairs of and winter and summer gloves; cycling shorts and longs, lightweight off-bike shoes, toiletries, tools, lock, torch and phone. The panniers and handlebar bag are on the right. Not shown is my rain jacket.

Now this amount of gear was just fine for a hotel-based adventure where a tent and cooking gear aren't needed. That's the sort of touring I enjoy the most, it's not quite the old "credit card and toothbrush" experience but it's pretty close.

The whole load fitted into my two small panniers, racktop back and handlebar bag.

The wool jersey I bought last year is particularly handy for this sort of trip because it can be worn on and off the bike and can go a few days without the need for laundering. Similarly the lightweight merino undershirts which can double as t-shirts if needed. The coolmax shirts dry extremely quickly so they can be washed in a hotel sink.

Next time I think I'll ditch the rack top back and instead buy one of the lovely Gilles Berthoud handlebar bags instead. I've declared my undying love for handlebar bags already, I just need to save my pennies. I'd probably also ditch the spare shoes, because they took up a fair bit of room in my bags. I've also refined my toolkit down considerably.

I'm planning another trip later this year. The lessons I learned on the Mallee Routes trip last year will come in very hand indeed.

1632km so far this year.

Oppy 2011

2011-03-20T17:23:00.000+11:00

The Oppy is my favourite ride, it has been for years. It's a challenge, but with the company and support of a bunch of good friends and some excellent night riding thrown in. The idea is to cover 360km or more in 24 hours. It requires some determination but is within the reach of the ordinary cyclist, of which I am decidedly one. This year's Oppy - my fourth - was easily the best. (2007, 2008, and 2009 rides here for comparison.) Sir Hubert Opperman, whom the ride commemorates, was Australia's greatest endurance cyclist.

There were plenty of reasons it was good, but most of all it was good because I was far fitter than I've been for a while. Having dropped some weight (about six kilograms) and putting in some hard miles in the leadup has made me a much stronger rider, enough to realise dropping another six kilograms would make me even better.

There were 11 of us in the Lairs peloton this year, riding from Tooberac, doing a big loop around Shepparton, crossing briefly into NSW before heading through Echuca to Rochester.

The weather conditions were perfect, still and warm during both day and night, and not a drop of rain. We were treated to both a delightful sunset but also the rise and company of the largest full moon in years. We made the most of the conditions too, speeding through the first couple of hundred kilometres before nightfall when the something unusual happened: we actually sped up.

Through the night we raced, sitting between 25km/h and 28km/h for long stretches and the miles fairly rolled by. We kept our rest breaks short thanks to the experience of some of our early rides when we paid the price of being slow out of controls. We had discussed earlier the option of extending the ride to a nice round 400km but for some reason enthusiasm diminished as the night drew on. Next year perhaps.

The only interruption to my otherwise perfect ride was a puncture at kilometre 336, about two kilometres from the football club were were to sleep. Quickly fixed, we were back on our way and I was able to full enjoy three hours sleep until were were up at six and on the road at seven. The last 30 kilometres into Rochester coincided with the sunrise. The brass band kicked up as we rode down the main street and the small crowd clapped and cheers as we pulled in to the park by the Oppy statue for the traditional round of backslaps and handshakes and team photographs. I'm a little tired this afternoon, but stoked that such a tough ride went so well for all of us.

There's an app for that

2011-03-06T20:27:00.001+11:00

The humble cycle computer has come a long way since I was a kid. There's no end of GPS-enabled pieces of kit with heart rate monitors and watt meters and other handy gadgets. Though I am pretty conscientious about keeping track of my riding data, a simple cycle computer has been quite sufficient for me for the past few years, though I've been tempted by some of the bike mounted GPS units - until I see the price!

I've played with a few iPhone apps of late and have been thoroughly impressed by one in particular. Cyclemeter has all sorts of handy functions I never knew I needed. It tracks and records your ride of course, but also offers simple one-click uploading to Facebook and Twitter, calendar integration and plenty of other impressive features. And if you so desire it will tweet or update your Facebook page at set time or distance intervals and read out the responses from your friends. It auto stops and starts. My favourite feature is the voice announcements (which I have set to alert me every kilometre because I find them so charming) in which an Englishwoman's voice tells you how far and fast you have gone. As a bonus, the app is very economical on the phone's battery, provide you ride with the screen turned off. I tend to leave it in my back jersey pocket, the voice announcements cheerily reminding me that it's still working away.

1124km so far this year.

A perfect morning's excursion

2011-02-11T21:11:00.000+11:00

I rode a very pleasant 18km to the bus this morning. It was warm, though the sun had not been up long. The blanket of fog I descended through zooming down the hill from home didn't quite reach the valley floor. Just three cars passed me in the 40 minutes it took me to ride along the rough dirt road to Huonville and the bus. I knew all the drivers and all of them waved as they slowed and gave me a wide berth passing. The wide Schwalbe tyres on the Crosscheck soaked up the bumps on the gravel road beautifully. The ride home was about the same, but without the traffic. We're a one car family for a while and though it means some minor inconvenience, it also means I'm able to get a some more time on the bike.

It's February, which means FebFast: a month off the grog. As a challenge, my household has cut its alcohol consuption from a case (or two) of beer a week to zero. Into the bargain I've given up soft drink and bacon and egg rolls from the work canteen. If it's going to be a month of abstinance, it might as well be a good one.

As I've probably complained here before I have struggled to find a regular ride that isn't so hilly as to make daily riding exhausting or too clogged with traffic to be enjoyable. Apart from a 300m hill at the home end, the road from here to town is pretty flat by Tasmaina standards. It's a nice ride: slightly harder coming home because of the hill, but pleasant enough to do every day. I've racked up 200km this week which is about twice my average. I can read on the bus and the paper I work for pays reporters $50 for book reviews, which means my travel almost pays for itself.

Normally I'd be buggered after a week of work and riding. But the excersie and imnprove better diet means I've dropped about 4kg in three weeks and suddenly I'm riding faster and with less effort. I feel good when I get out of bed in the morning and don't seem to be as tired in the evenings. Diet and exersise huh? Who would have thought it?

I'm wondering how long this pleasant experience will last. I'm pretty committed to see out the next six weeks until I ride the 360km Opperman All Day Trial Summer in Tasmania is brief. This year hasn't been much of a summer at all but even so in a week or two as the days continue to get shorter I'll be leaving home in the dark, which isn't too big a problem because I have lights and sunrise won't be too far away. It will cool down, but I have warm enough clothes for that. Daylight Savings ends at the end of March, so it will be dark at both ends of the day, which means a man has to be pretty determined to push on. And I'll get my car back in a week or two and I'll have to ride past it each morning to the gate. It's temping, always tempting, despite the pleasures of the ride. We shall see. It's easy to make rash promises when its warm and dry.

570km so far this year.

The 2010 annual report.

2011-01-07T17:38:00.002+11:00

So another year is over. Hope your 2010 was good, though it won't go down in the annals as one of my better cycling years. I manged 5036km which is my lowest total since 2005. Generally I aim for 7500 or so and manage 6000. Still, I'll never argue mileage is measure of fun.

In my defence, there were a couple of things which held me back. I skipped the Opperman All Day Trial this year, so there's 360km of the missing 1000km straight away. I also spent November in China where I didn't have access to a bike for most of the month. Then there a the run-in with a Metro bus in April which meant I no longer had the nerve to ride in what passes for peak hour traffic in Hobart. As a result of that, I spent a lot more time in the gym this year instead of on the road.

Enough of the readings from the Big Book of Excuses; my 5036km came up in 264 hours and at an average of 19.02km/h. I'm 2km/h slower this year, not because of the ravages of age, but because I'm riding a lot more hills and a lot more gravel so it's hard to compare with years when most of my riding was fast road commutes. I passed the 30,000km and the 1500 hour mark since resuming riding in January 2005. I managed 144 rides, or 2.19 a week. It's the first year in five years my weekly average was under 100km, at 96.85km.

On the bright side, I cracked my first thousand-kilometre month in September, with 750km in one lovely week of the "Tour de Nord", including a memorable 300km one-day ride in the Mallee Routes. Reviewing the year's photos I remember a touring weekend up at Deloraine and plenty of trips out along the dirt roads of the Tahune. I also (just) completed the 200km Alpine Classic and the Winter Challenge and had my first go at bikepacking.

On the topic of this blog: there were 27 posts in 2010. I had 6,700 visitors from 81 countries, Australia and the USA being the most frequent and Panama, Latvia, Mozambique and Iceland among the dozen or so with one visitor each. Visitors came directly, via Google searches (Schmidt Edelux, "flying with a bike" and "STI gears" being the most common search terms) or via the websites of dear friends in the international randonneur community. Cheers to the folk who arrived here after searching for "slowest up a hill" and "morbidly obese cyclist".

Who knows what 2011 has in store. I've set myself bold goals here before, which I always seem to fall short of, so I'm going to refrain this year. But to everyone who wanders by here from time to time, wherever you may ride this year, may the the wind be at your back through the whole of 2011 and beyond.

66km so far this year.

Gravel grinders of the Weld

2010-12-22T09:24:00.000+11:00

This blog is still active, despite appearances to the contrary. 2010 hasn't been one of my better cycling years because of personal reasons and also because I spent November more of less off the bike in China - more of that in a future post.

The approach of the festive season means the weather in Tasmania should in theory at least be more conducive to outdoor activities. For the six or so months of the year from December it's a mad scramble to get as much bushwalking and kayaking and cycling in as possible. Finally having some time off meant I could open my season with a bikepacking trip down into the forests of the south-west.

Benny had planned another Bottles and Chains overnight pub trip this week but the dozen or so people who said they'd be there dwindled to one: me. We decided some gravel road bikepacking would be in order and met in Huonville at 11am Monday to pick a route. We had a rough idea we'd head out along the quiet forestry roads into the Weld river valley and after some discussion and some advice from the nice folk at the Huon Environment Centre we set off along the North Huon Road in the rain and the mud.

About 15km into the ride comes the ascent of the Denison Range, which is long and steep and unpleasant in the cold rain we were intermittently being pelted with. We decided to make the top then decide whether to push on, which we did after some discussion of pulling the pin if things didn't stay tolerably fine. We ran into a neighbour of mine, reknowned for his local knowledge, who told us there was a serviceable shelter at our destination at Glovers Bluff and we pushed on up the soft and freshly graded dirt climb towards the Ta Ann veneer mill.

Turning off, we rode through some recently clearfelled coupes where Ben stopped to take some photos before snapping the chain his singlespeed. That was quickly fixed with the aid of a spare link and we stopped a short distance down the road for a break at the Weld River Bridge before walking parts of the big climb on the other side. Glovers Bluff was only a couple of kilometres easy travelling from the top.

What a sensational spot it was. We explored the top of the Bluff, taking in the sweeping views over the Weld Valley and the nearby logging coupes before descending a short distance to the shelter, which to our surprise was of recent construction and quite substantial enough to make for a comfortable sleeping spot. Our evening's survival assured, we wandered down to the nearby lookout for more photos and beers.

Back at the shelter we polished off the last of the beers, ate and sat by the fire telling yarns and talking bikes as we awaited the arrival of the third member of the party, Liam, who was intending to arrive later. We'd not long given up and gone to bed when he arrived around 10pm, with more beers to his eternal credit. Liam revealed he hadn't quite ridden the whole way: in fact his car was parked a couple of hundred metres up the track.

The car was to come in pretty handing in the morning when more icy rain fell and we decided the prospect of a 60km return ride in the rain was slightly less appealing than a trip in the car, even if our journey was mostly downhill. Bikes disassembled we bade Glovers Bluff adeiu for the time being: I have no doubt we'll visit this lovely spot again.

4916km so far this year.

Mallee Routes revisited

2010-09-12T20:25:00.003+10:00

The ultimate destination of my tour was the small north-west Victorian town of Hopetoun, where the Mallee Routes is held each year. It's a great event, best when the wind isn't blowing too strong across the seemingly endless plains. It's a tremendous gathering of audax riders, who pack the local pub for a festive dinner on the Friday night before the ride.

Last year was windy and I didn't finish the 300km ride after being talked into the longer distance. This year I allowed myself to become convinced 400km was a good idea.

The weather on Saturday was superb, with light winds and mild temperatures. The usual quick run down towards Warracknebeal saw the quick and the bold speed away and the slower and more cautious riders like me were content to drift back in the field. It's a long day to be riding at someone else's pace.

Onward towards Birchip, and still feeling good, the first 100km rolled by in just over four hours of riding time. Sea Lake rolled by, and another feed, which slowed me down a bit and though the second hundred took about the same time, my legs were definitely feeling the miles by now.

The leg to Patchewollock was where things got harder. Our group of two became three for a while and then four as we tackled the undulating sandhills to Speed where a short break allowed us to turns lights on and don reflective gear.

After a welcome feed at the Patchewollock control, the 50km back to Hopetoun came after dark and though we were still making good progress, it became obvious that finishing 400km by 2am as I had planned was going to be a big ask. I was getting tired and my hamstrings were giving me some grief and the prospect of another six hours on the bike for the 100km leg out to Wonga Hut in the Wyperfeld National Park just didn't appeal at all. When we completed our loop to Hopetoun, I decided to pull the pin.

Quitting isn't an easy decision to make, particularly after a DNF last year, but I was knackered and simply didn't have another 100km in my legs. Shame, but I'm pretty happy with my ride all the same - which took 15 and a half hours including breaks. My decision to pull out was vindicated in the morning when I found out my riding companion finally finished around 5am. Bravo to him, but I just wasn't up to a night that tough. And there's always next year for another crack. I'm disappointed not to finish what I set out to do, but I had a bloody good time and that, after all, is what it should be all about.

Into the Mallee

2010-09-08T20:36:00.001+10:00

I love riding in the Mallee country, it's such a vast and interesting landscape, so very Australian: long straight empty roads and red soils and massive farms punctuated by small towns with a pub and a shop and not much else. There is plenty of history and in spring there are of wildflowers and the long plains dotted with sparse trees lend themselves to a rather meditative state of mind. Today was another wonderful day, blessed by good luck and good winds.

We caught the train north from the delightful Pyramid Hill to the border town of Swan Hill were we were to start our ride. I braved the heavy traffic to cross the Murray River into New South Wales for a few minutes, for my own amusement. After a spot of lunch we stopped in at the Visitors and Community Comfort Centre for a wee break. What would have been a short stop took nearly half an hour as we chatted to the delightful older ladies who keep it going and were interviewed by a reporter they summoned to meet the intrepid long distance cyclists. The Comfort Centre is a wonderful facility which every town should have, long may they prosper. Travelling by bike is such an easy way to meet people, who are often keen to chat and share their stories and hear ours. We have some new friends in Swan Hill.

Back on the road for our 72km zap to Sea Lake it was apparent our luck with the wind was holding and we barreled along at speeds not normally reached by cycle tourists. We punctuated the ride with sprints for the crest of anything resembling a hill, something in pretty short supply in these parts. An hour or so saw us in Ultima, where we enjoyed an ice cream in the general store before the final push to Sea Lake - a town I've not visited before and which is close to our goal of Hopetoun. Another push of 60km tomorrow and we'll be at the home of the Mallee Routes with a rest day in hand. Apparently there's 50 riders expected for the various distances. Even the weather forecast seems favorable. Here's to the weekend.

Flood crossing, Central Victoria

2010-09-08T07:19:00.001+10:00

Fortunately the worst we've faced so far is wet feet, though there are towns nearby sandbagged and evacuated.

A brilliant day

2010-09-08T07:12:00.001+10:00

I've never forgotten how much I love touring, though yesterdays ride was a good chance to renew the relationship.

We started the day with a visit to Rochester's delightful Sir Hubert Opperman museum before setting out in warm and still conditions. The roads in these parts are perfect for cycling - flat and with only light traffic. The effects of the heavy drought-breaking rains made themselves felt with a couple of water crossings, though we were not seriously slowed.

Lunch was at the tiny town if Dingee after about 50km and we stopped for a break at Mitiamo 20km later. The final 20km into Pyramid Hill was more of the same: zooming along at 25km/h marvelling at what a nice day it was. We arrived at the magnificent Pyramid Hill hotel just in time for some cold beers and to learn who was to form the new federal government.

Today's ride has been amended by the flooding - the roads we were intending to travel are deep underwater and blocked by police. A detour by train to Swan Hill should get us around the worst of it by lunchtime and we shall venture forth towards Sea Lake.

About the bag.

2010-09-07T08:20:00.001+10:00

I very seldom use a handlebar bar, preferring to carry loads in panniers on a rear rack where they are stable and out of sight. Even so, I've owned one for ages, and drag it out from time to time - like for this trip because I was keen to have a little extra room and it's a handy place to keep a few essentials together.

If I had any doubts about the usefulness of a handlebar bag for touring, I'm now a complete convert. The bag holds all the little items I need during the day and keeps them within easy reach on the go. Sunglasses, gloves, camera are right there and it's a handy place to keep cash and cards. Spare clothing can be stuffed in too as the day warms up. Since it clips off easily and has a shoulder strap, it comes off the bike at stops. It does affect handling slightly, so even after getting used to that slight change, it's best not to put too many heavy items in.

As part of an ultralight touring ensemble, it's hard to beat. My only criticism is that it sits a little high. Perhaps one of the lovely Gilles Berthoud handlebar bags would take me that short step towards perfection.

Onward to Murchison

2010-09-06T06:08:00.001+10:00

On the road for the first proper day of our tour, the relatively short hop from Seymour to Murchison. We were on the road by 10 and quickly into a rhythm, slowed only once by water over the road after the heavy rains of Saturday, although the rivers we crossed were all mightily swollen. Lunch in Nagambie then just 20km to Murchison where we found a cheap room in the pub and a few beers and a fine meal downstairs. All in all a fast fine day of touring.

Tour de Nord

2010-09-05T07:09:00.001+10:00

Day one of my long-planned tour of central and northern Victoria did not dawn auspiciously. To be fair, the signs weren't good from early last week, with warnings of the heaviest rainfall in a decade but I held out hope that it would somehow pass by and I'd be able to ride the wonderful Spring into Seymour as planned.

It was not to be, with heavy rain and strong winds meaning the ride was cancelled due to flooding in the course and I went back to bed.

The plan, hatched at the Alpine Classic in January, is to ride between two great audax events - the Spring into Seymour and the Mallee Routes, which this year are a week apart. From Seymour to Hopetoun is about 450km, so it's a cruise ride, very flat, though against the prevailing winds.

I'm doing the ride on my trusty old Surly Crosscheck, because it is solid and comfortable and reliable and because it has lights and mudguards and racks but with the right tyres is still capable of a decent turn of speed.

I'm traveling with just my two tiny panniers, a rack and handlebar bags. It's not quite credit card and toothbrush, but the bare minimum so I'm not too bogged down with gear.

After the rain eased yesterday I left Tooborac for the undulating 35km run to Seymour as a little shakedown ride. I'm happy to say everything worked perfectly, despite the drenching I got from a single burst of heavy rain right at the midway point. Today is a 60km roll up the road to Murchison before the 100km days start in earnest. With a clearing forecast, it should be a most enjoyable week.

As I recall.

2010-09-03T11:49:00.005+10:00

A few days ago I noticed a bit of noise on the internet talking about a recall of some Surly bikes - Long Haul Truckers and Cross Checks to be precise. Since I own one of both I took more than a passing interest, it sounded serious. The recall seems to apply to complete bikes sold in Australia. something to do with brakes being unsafe.

I did a little research on what it's all about. There are no faulty brakes, despite what some are saying, just a lesson in what is wrong with the product recall system and the Australian Standards for bicycles.

It seems, there is concern that a bike fitted with cantilever brakes and knobby tyres, a snapped front brake cable could mean the suddenly free straddle cable drops and catches a knob and flings the rider over the bars. It has apparently happened once to someone riding a cheap bike with plastic brakes in the United States. The inevitable resulting lawsuit is here.

Such an incident can only happen on bikes without mudguards and with knobby tyres, and only on brakes set up with cantilever brakes which had straddle cables incorrectly set so short they could contact the tyre. Neither of these bikes was sold with knobby tyres. It would also only happen on bikes with no no mudguard or front reflector or light bracket, which would also deflect the cable.

In the real world, if this problem existed, it would apply to all bikes fitted with cantilever brakes. Somebody, somewhere, has decided a "brake cable catch hook" (never heard of it before) is the solution for these two bikes alone rather than correctly setting up and maintaining the bicycle. Keep in mind the only recorded case of a problem occurring happened on a completely different bike, with different tyres, and a roller pulley setup, which again neither of these bikes have.

The level of risk is so close to zero that nobody has seen fit to issue a general warning to the hundreds of thousands of people worldwide who may use cantilever brakes, despite the fact it's an easy problem to detect and remedy.

I'm told the Australian Standard now requires the hook for be fitted to all new bikes. As far as I know such a hook is not required in any other country, although the waning popularity of cantilever brakes may explain why it's not more of an issue. It's part of the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission crackdown to make sure every bike sold has reflectors, a bell and two working brakes, regardless of whether the owner removes them on the way out of the shop. Surely they have more serious risks to public safety with which to occupy their time.

Winter Challenge: sometimes pain hurts.

2010-08-24T16:03:00.005+10:00

They say the time trial is the race of truth. That's true too: a big fat truthy truism of truth. Normally I'm a big fan of the truth. But sometimes it's also ugly.

Since I knew three months ago I'd be riding the 37km time trial in the Winter Challenge I immediately launched myself into a gruelling routine of gym training and weekend cycling. It was showing some results too; my weight dropped several kilograms and I felt fitter and stronger than I had in years. I'd ridden the course and had a target time which would put me just into the top 50% of riders. Everything was going swimmingly. Then I got a cold.

This season's cold is a beauty. It's not at all severe but it did have superb endurance. (Maybe it had been training.) I'm in my fourth fun week of random dry coughing, which did tend to slow my own training down a tad- well stop it really - and help the weight pile back on. So I didn't have high hopes when I fronted up to the start line on Sunday.

As it turned out, for someone who doesn't race at all, I really enjoyed the ride - apart from an exciting flat front tyre which a kindly bystanding bike mechanic fixed for me in the five minutes before the start. Once Bicycle Tim tagged me out after his extremely fast mountain bike leg and I did the cleated hop through the transition area, the open road beckoned.

I made a terrific start. The Winter Challenge course is flat and fast to start off and I was turning a big gear over quickly enough to be a little worried I was going too hard early. My heart rate monitor was showing I was working hard too - in the high 170 beats per minute range, which is about as high as I go but I was feeling good and pushed onward.

The first big test of the ride is the hill up Scotts Road. There was a rider approaching from behind and I got out of the saddle and made a good start up the hill, though gravity bit me hard in the end. The second hill up to the highway was more of a grind. I think this section is where I could show the most improvement.

The first hint of a big looming calf cramp started around the 20km mark, so I eased off a smidge for a few minutes and the threat seemed to pass. Through the downhills and past the Kermandie Pub at the 28km mark with 58 minutes on the clock - about two minutes ahead of the trial run. The wind was my biggest foe in the last ten kilometres, alternating between headwind and tailwind as the road snaked around the riverfront. Although I was getting tired I was really enjoying the sensation of speeding along between 30km/h and 40km/h - once briefly glacing at the computer to note I was surging at 44km/h along the flat.

Fortunately another rider passed me just after the pub and gave me a target to keep in sight. I dug deep and made sure kept her about 20 - 30 metres ahead for the rest of the ride, passing her briefly atop the last small rise out of Franklin before the lactic acid took the edge off my speed. Into the finish in an acceptable 1h23m, which I'm happy with given my lack of training and overall poor fitness.

But in terms of fun, the day was a blast. An average speed of 27km an hour isn't that fast by most racer's standards and my time probably put me three-quarters of the way through the field, I've never ridden so fast for so long. And, as these things usually do, I'm more motivated to get a bit fitter and do even better next time.

The other plus is that my team did really well, particularly for our first attempt. Of the 22 teams in the mixed teams division, we came 13th. Hooray for the Huonville Sauntering Club.

Other highlights included the astoundingly good organisation and the friendly atmosphere of the whole day, winning a cracking pair of expensive-looking sunglasses as a spot prize and finding $5 on the ground just as the Mr Whippy van pulled up. If you're in Tasmania and thinking of having a crack at a multisport event, I highly recommend the Winter Challenge.

3,186km so far this year.

Just in Time

2010-08-16T09:20:00.004+10:00

I don't have ads on this blog, which is probably the only reason I'm not a millionaire, but I do like to endorse the odd handy piece of kit that I've found useful. Today's plug is for the StemCAPtain, an accessory you probably never knew you needed.

Since I mainly ride my Surly CrossCheck as as commuter and transport bike, it's been unsurprisingly handy having a dedicated clock to know whether I'm running late for work or whatever vital appointment I'm heading to. They come in a couple of other varieties: compass and photo mount and take about two minutes to fit and make a stylish addition to any bike.

3,149km so far this year.

Bags of fun

2010-08-09T16:43:00.005+10:00

I'm getting ready for a week's touring in Victoria in September. It caused some minor angst over which bike to take because the Bianchi, which though it is good and fast for audax riding, has no rack mounts and would be no good for carrying the stuff I'll need for a week on the road. So I'm getting the Crosscheck ready for another road trip.

The tour is a ride from the end of the Spring into Seymour audax ride to the start of the Mallee Routes audax - around 400km over six days, so it's not going to be a big rush. Even so, I'm keen not to be too weighted down by gear.

Enter these rather natty Gilles Berthoud panniers and rack bag. I'd had my eye on them for a while, but the upcoming tour and a rather nice tax return brought them forward a little on the wishlist. They're canvas trimmed with leather and have a capacity of just 9 litres for the panniers and 5 for the rack bag - perfect alone or in combination for audax rides. So I'm going to have to pack light, which suits me just fine.

After using them for the last couple of weeks I'm really impressed by these panniers. They're big enough to carry everything you're likely to need on a commute and nothing more. Being so tiny, I don't even notice them at all - they have no effect on the bike's handling at all. With top hooks and a strap and buckle arrangement, they sit solidly on my tiny Velo Orange rack.

They're handmade - which makes them a tad on the pricey side - but are clearly built to last. I'm delighted with them, but I do have a couple of criticisms. The panniers have no handles for carrying them off the bike; which is a minor daily irritation. And the rack bag didn't have a tab to hold a light, although some unstitching and some needlework on the leather patch on the back today put that right. These minor niggles aside, I reckon these bags and I will do a few miles together over the coming months and years.

3085km so far this year.

The Riverbank Ramble revisited

2010-07-17T15:44:00.009+10:00

It rained pretty much all winter here last year, the wettest winter for 70 years, so there wasn't much riding done and I laid plans to build a winter bike capable of withstanding the never-ending deluge. Or an ark. The former project continues but thankfully this winter has been a return to the norm with lovely crisp days and the occasional pearler with bright blue skies and welcome warming sunshine. Mudguards seem somehow redundant this season.

Since I have Sunday-Monday off and my wife was working Monday I decided it would be the perfect day to have another crack at the Riverbank Ramble 200km Permanent on the road bike with Bicycle Tim - a favourite route for us both and a good chance to get some miles in our legs. It's a challenging loop ride, lots of good-sized hills for the first 120-odd kilometres, followed by a fast downhill then flat run home broken only by a final bump about 5km from the finish.

What a perfect day it turned out to be. Though mostly overcast, there were more than a few moments when I felt distinctly overdressed in a long sleeved top and winter gloves as the mercury nudged up to 15 degrees Celsius. My last attempt at this ride in November wasn't an overwhelming success. I rode well, but a stiff headwind over the last 80km and perhaps a lack of conditioning left me completely knackered towards the end. I've been spending a fair bit of time at the gym of late and had a few easy days beforehand so I was feeling rested and fit, but a few strong gusts of wind rattled the house Sunday night and left me feeling worried I'd be bitten again. My concern was misplaced, Monday dawned unusually warm for winter and still and overcast.

We set off from Kingston Beach spot on 7am and quickly made our way through Hobart and up the bike track before climbing the ride's major climb - the 400m grind to Glenlusk. Despite a brief scare on a wet wooden bridge on the way down the other side we were cruising smoothly and decided to take our first break at Bushy Park 70km in, where we refreshed with toasted sandwiches and cake and a big plate of chips.

Back on the road through my favourite section of this ride through Glenora to Westerway I was having such a good time I clean forgot about the next big hill - on the way into Ellendale which slowed me to a granny-gear crawl. The following two are steep but nowhere near as long of high so it was was across the Derwent causeway and right up the Lyell Highway to Hamilton for a brush with an angry log truck driver and a spot of lunch.

From the top of the big hill past Hamilton the ramble ride becomes a pearler of a downhill and with a slight tailwind we zoomed down towards New Norfolk where we had a quick bite to eat before knocking off the relatively flat 50km into Hobart- made even easier by roadworks which have smoothed out at least one of the hills I remember from my last trip. With plenty of time on the clock we stopped at the Riverview Inn at Taroona for a delightful couple of beers before knocking off the back side of Bonnett Hill to finish in a respectable elapsed time of 11h30m, of which 9h30m was spent on the bike. The time was about an hour less than my last effort, mainly I suspect thanks to Tim setting a fair pace out front all day. And despite 2000m of climbing for the day and not having done that much riding lately, I felt surprisingly good at the finish.

2,736km so far this year.

Photo from Flickr by Smiling Da Vinci.

Some promise shows.

2010-07-01T22:25:00.003+10:00

As recently as a week ago I wasn't all that confident about my chances against the clock in the Winter Challenge. I rode the course on the weekend, not with any fierce intent, but more to learn the way and check for any nasty hills or similar obstacles.

I parked the car and sent off without a warm-up, rolling over the tiny rises south of Franklin, enjoying the brisk zero degree day and noting the liklihood of a tailwind home. Once warmed up, it became apparent that the organisers' promise of a fast course was no idle talk. The 10km mark rolled by far more quickly than I expected and, feeling good, I cranked the pace up a notch.

My goal from the start was to get around the 37km in under about an hour and 30 minutes - nothing too flash, just a gentle Sunday ride. The split times from the Winter Challenge website put a mid-field placing around the 1hr15 minute mark, and I wasn't really thinking of setting a brilliant time on my first outing. I've been spending some time in the gym in the last few weeks to try to build some strength in my fiendishly weak upper body, so I wasn't feeling overly rested either.

Two moderate hills didn't provide too much of a problem about halfway in, then the course turns for home. An hour into the ride, with 27km down, I rolled past the Kermandie pub. That's very quick for me. Suddenly it all seemed somewhat more achievable. As I sped up the river, past reasonably familiar landmarks, Franklin seemed only minutes away. But 12, or 15 or 20?

Now there's a nasty little rise just short of the Franklin - it's got a winery or something on it and it somehow knocks me for six every time. I was waiting for it and as I wearied I wondered where it had got to as somehow Franklin never seemed to appear. Winery Hill didn't disappoint, providing a last test of legs and lungs before, I coasted into Franklin in 1hr25min. It wasn't a not a cracking time, but not bad for an 80% effort. There's room for improvement there - plenty of room. I've not lately fancied myself as much of a racer, but suddenly I'm looking forward to the big day with more anticipation than fear.

2496km so far this year.

A turning of the tide.

2010-06-25T09:08:00.002+10:00

Nice yarn in today's Sydney Morning Herald today on plans to cut speed limits in urban areas to better protect cyclists. Having been a cyclist in Sydney, Melbourne and now Hobart for a touch over 20 years, it's amazing how far the attitudes of some governments have changed. On the other hand, in Melbourne this week, a widely supported plan to make cycling on Beach Road easier and safer was rejected by a local council. The comments accompanying the article shows some motorists still have a way to go too. Two steps forward, one step back.

Against the Clock

2010-06-24T21:16:00.004+10:00

In a moment of madness during a cheesecake run, I've joined a team of mature aged folk who have decided to enter the Winter Challenge. It's held near here on August 22, in the township of Franklin, and consists of a 10km cross country run, 18km on a mountain bike, a 37km road cycle and a 10km flat water kayaking. We have dubbed ourselves the Huonville Sauntering Club, since because our pace around the course is not expected to be blistering. I'm doing the road cycling leg mainly because I'd be even more useless at any of the others. Hour-record track japes notwithstanding, I am not the bloke on the left.

Now 37km is a nice distance. A chap could do that in an hour and a half at a reasonable pace, perhaps a few minutes quicker if he tried rather hard. This chap anyway. So it probably wasn't wise to check the split times from last year's event. The top ten percent of riders averaged 36km/h, so I'm very possibly not going to finish up there. The median time was 1hr 12 min: an average speed of 31km/h. Now that might not seem fast to some people but it is about four kilometres an hour faster than any ride I've done on the road in the last six years - except a descent of Mt Wellington from Ferntree. It's faster than I've even done on the bloody track on a good day. Some training is clearly in order.

I've taken the old reliable Gatorskins off the Bianchi and put the fast and skittish 23mm Vittoria Rubino pros back on and pumped them up to 130psi. This weekend I'll ride the course and see whether the ghost of a time triallist lurks within me. I think I already know the answer to that, but it is supposed to be a bit of fun.

2393km so far this year.

Chains are cheap

2010-06-21T11:03:00.004+10:00

As far back as I can remember it's been a maxim for cyclists - when you replace a chain, replace your cassette as well. I don't remember where I first heard it but it was almost certainly some time back in the 1980s when I was racing. It was just one of those things we did without thinking and it never occurred to me until now to question it.

The chain on my Bianchi was coming up to the 6000km mark this week (thanks BikeJournal for the reminder) and my handy Park chain gauge was telling me it was coming to the end of its useful life, which was fine because I had a replacement chain hanging in the shed, but I'm a bit short of cash to buy a new cassette. Those ten speed babies aren't cheap. What do do?

When I thought about it, does the new chain-new cassette maxim make sense? The theory seems to go that a new set will mesh nicely together and that a worn cassette will wear a new chain more quickly. But is that going to be as much the case in the modern era of ten speed kit as it was in the five and six speed days, or more so, or what?

The cassette on the Bianchi looked fine so I threw caution to the wind and put a new chain on. After brisk 30km trial ride, all seems well. The gears are shifting fine and after a few minor adjustments of tension screws, the drivetrain is even quieter than normal. (I prefer the superb Connex chains, the connecting link makes installation and removal infinitely easier than the infernal Shimano non-reusable pins)

Sitting down to write this post, I checked around to see what others did, and Google revealed a wide range of practices, from a change of cluster every two chains, to even longer service intervals. Myth busted, and it looks like I'll save some money from hereon in to boot.

2393km so far this year.

Tyred from trying.

2010-06-07T15:41:00.004+10:00

Some sunny winter days there's no better way to get warm than by rolling briskly over the few undulations between here and town on the bike. This is particularly true when there's a new set of tyres and some other odds and ends waiting to be picked up at the post office.

I reckon of all the parts that make up a bike, tyres are by far the most single most important. A bad set of tyres make a good bike bad, a good set can transform your ride. There's a magic mix of compromises to be found through trial and error between fast and light and tough. Finding the right set of tyres for your bike and its use can be an expensive process and takes a fair bit of patience but when you get it right you'll never switch.

I had been running Kendra Small Block 8 knobbies on the Surly Crosscheck over summer to take advantage of the fire trails around these parts, but they're light and the rubber is soft and they wore out far too quickly. I bought a cheap set of touring tyres to replace them, but they were no good on dirt. I tried some Vittoria Randonneurs - which turned out to be the worst set of tyres I've ever owned. Sluggish and misshapen, these tyres lasted a week I gave up on them and hung them on a hook in the shed. Good job they were cheap. The search began anew.

Lately I've been keen on wider tyres, largely because a good proportion of most of my rides is on dirt and gravel roads, so I like something with a bit of substance to it. The set of wide 26" Schwalbe Marathons on my touring bike go very nicely indeed, so I ordered a set of 32mm in 700c for the Crosscheck.

And what do you know? The 32mm Marathons transform the bike, but this time for the better. Fast, comfortable, grippy, they're ideal for my needs and come with a reflective sidewall as well. They look like they're up for just about anything so a run out along the fire trails up the valley might well be in order some time soon.

After the fitting of they tyres and the run home, a pleasant afternoon of al fresco bike maintainence followed. Throw in a new set of brake cables and a new chain that had been sitting on the shelf for a while and it's like riding a new bike.

Let me know if you want a set of Vittoria Randonneurs cheap.

2244km so far this year.

The flight of the Mountain Turtle

2010-05-28T11:26:00.003+10:00

You read a lot about how rotten the Internet is, how it's laden with sexual content and malware and viruses, how it leads to molestation and murder, how it's making people fat and dumb and lazy. There's a flipside to that coin, something that often goes unstated, that the Internet is the greatest democratising communications tool ever invented and it lets us people share their wisdom and their lives across vast distances quickly and cheaply.

There's lots of blogs I read regularly, but here's two that have struck a chord recently. One of my greatest Internet joys is seeing a new post lob on Dave Moulton's bike blog. I don't know Dave and I'm unlikely to ever meet him, but thanks to the world wide web I can enjoy his pearls of wisdom from afar. He's a great writer and has a terrific perspective from decades of riding and framebuilding.

Kent Peterson, (above) calls himself the Mountain Turtle, after his riding pace. I'm a regular reader of his blog too. He's off to Race the Tour Divide 2010 in a few days. It's a non-stop self-supported race the length of US Grade Dividing Range. Quite an undertaking to be sure.

I've never met Kent either but thanks to the Internet, a few bucks I earned in Hobart, Tasmania are now doing something more interesting that paying bills by helping a guy chase his dream. I'm not sure why I feel like I'm along for the ride, but it's a wonderful thing to be able to support an ordinary person to do something extraordinary. I suppose in a way I'm sponsoring a racing team!

Kent rolls out in a few days, if you're a fellow cyclist you can follow the link on his blog to support him via Paypal. You'll know for sure he'll make the money go a long way - 4418km to be exact. All power to the Mountain Turtle.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

2010-05-12T15:06:00.003+10:00

I've been riding a while, so sometimes people ask me for advice on cycling. I generally give them a few pointers about being visible and asserting their right to use the road and so on. Tanya Bosch, who writes for Australian Cyclist magazine, has come up with the most sensible set of tips I've ever read for cyclists. They were in the magazine a month ago and have just gone online.

Among the pointers:

* Bunches shouldn't exceed 20 riders. I'm sorry guys, but for a start it is not good training and bunches over 20 are a big presence on the road.

* Know and obey the road rules. Nothing enrages motorists more than cyclists running red lights. Please don't. On the other hand, there are road rules that motorists don't know, for example that cyclists are allowed to ride two abreast, ride up the inside of stopped traffic and ridein bus and transit lanes in some states.

Do yourself a favour and check out Tanya's tips here.

All I want for Christmas...

2010-05-01T14:47:00.003+10:00

Spotted this on the web. I already have a perfectly good repair stand. It's near-new. This one is $US240, but phwoaaar! If these guys ever decide make a wheel truing jig I'm going to sell a kidney to get the set.

Here's the link in case you want to buy me one.

1806km so far this year.

A weekend in Deloraine

2010-04-11T16:36:00.005+10:00

Having plenty of inclination to go touring, but little time, the chance to get in a weekend of rides out of town is too much to pass up. In northern Tasmania, some bright spark has set up a series of rides centered about the pretty town of Deloraine, so we decided to park up there for a couple of days to explore the scenery.

The Great Western Tiers signal the start of Tasmania's central highlands. At their foot, these four rides take in the best of the scenic and gourmet experiences the area has to offer. Today we did a modified version of the Great Caves Ride - an 82km loop from Deloraine to Mole Creek and back along the backroads at the foot of the tiers.

What a cracking tour it was. We rolled out on the touring bikes about 9am, shrugging off a forecast of rain and making steady progress to Mole Creek. We passed on the Open Garden we had hoped to see as it was overrun by older folks and stopped for a ripper lunch at the pub.

Back on the road we copped a few minutes of rain, but the sting was taken out of that by the tailwind which pushed us along at a steady pace through Caveside and Meander before following us all the way back to Deloarine. The scenery along the way was nothing less than spectacular. The roads were mainly flat and lightly trafficked and afforded brilliant views over the green farmland and soaring crags above. It was a beauty of a ride, which I'd recommend to anyone.

We're going to squeeze in another tomorrow, hopefully it will be as good.

1608km so far this year.

The more things change...

2010-04-04T09:01:00.003+10:00

This snippet, from the New York Times, is surely good. Apparently people with Parkinson's disease are still able to ride their bikes. How cheery. Some consolation I suppose.

It almost makes up for the tired idiocy coming out of the Victorian Chamber of Commerce and Industry. Cyclists should be licensed and pay registration? Call yourselves a think tank chaps, for coming to the strikingly original conclusion that scofflaw cyclists are a major menace to society. You could have picked your timing a little better: rather than the same day the government announces a top anti-gang cop will head a new strike force gunning for drivers who continually flout the law. No that seems like a higher priority to me.

And as for registration, I will cheerfully pay to ride my bike on public roads when the facilities and the level of subsidies granted to cycling approaches the billions spent in an increasingly futile bid to make life easier for for motorists. And I won't whinge nearly so much as the car lobby and the motoring organisations, all gorged on the taxpayer dollar. But somehow I don't reckon I'm in any danger of needing to worry about it anytime soon.

Second wind.

2010-04-03T15:08:00.002+11:00

Is it April already? The days are getting shorter, the weather is turning cooler and daylight savings ends tonight. It's always a bit of a test on a riders mettle here in Tassie once the nights become dark and cold. I spent a couple of hours in the shed last night putting a pair of rear lights on the Cross Check so I'm ready for the winter months ahead.

After the warmest summer on record I find I've done relatively little riding for this time of year. The motivation seems to have left after the Alpine Classic. Perhaps I suffered too much or perhaps I just need to find another goal. At any rate, while I've ridden a few kilometres most days, my disdain for riding just for the sake of it as opposed to as a form of transport means it hasn't been much.

The flipside of this equation is that when I do ride, my legs are fresh and not recovering from endless commuting miles. The last few rides I've done have been blinders. Today was a case in point - I knocked ten minutes off the time for the ride I call the Cheesecake Run, a 35km blast mainly on dirt roads into town and back, with a killer 15 minute 200m climb at the end. And oddly, the coming of winter seems to have roused my interest in riding again. It's no longer as, but perversely I'm keener. Who knows what's going on here, perhaps it just the normal cycle of motivation that we all go through: unexplained bursts of activity and equally unexplained periods of lethargy and disinterest. Let's see what autumn holds.

1477km so far this year.

February blues.

2010-02-27T09:58:00.006+11:00

February hasn't been the best month for me on the bike. It seldom is, I don't know why. Perhaps it's the come-down from the high of the Alpine Classic, but I seem to be lacking a goal. Although I've hardly done any riding this month beyond a short daily commute to work, the 300km I've cranked out is my third best in the last six years and will be above the average. But I don't feel like I'm doing much and feel generally flat. I've been working too hard, have had a few too many beers, put on some weight and have smoked the odd cigarette since the Alpine, which hasn't helped matters one bit. The fitness I felt just a month ago has gone.

As I write this, I'm supposed to be riding a double century. Today was the last chance to keep my Year-Round randonneur hopes alive - but grand plans of completing 200km rides in 12 consecutive months - a plan which seemed easy in October - now somehow seems a madly ambitious. Instead, I'm sitting at home watching rain clouds drift in over the mountains and wondering whether I'll have enough energy to ride 30km on the dirt roads into town.

The bike is sitting outside the window, expectantly. I will ride, of course, and maybe the ride and a bit of wind and rain on my face will snap me out of my lethargy. Something always seems to. After just 200km last February, March 2009 was my best month ever - and although 881km is probably modest by some standards it's a good month by mine. But for some reason I just can't see myself riding the Oppy with the Lairs and the Bike Week Century and the Mt Wellington Challenge this year just don't appeal either. I barely made it to Critical Mass yesterday!

So I'm stale. I'm sure I'll just enjoy this ride, and can worry about the rest some other time.

1075km so far this year.

One is more identical than the other

2010-02-08T13:13:00.004+11:00

This post from the Bicycle Lifestyle Google Group on look-alike bikes quite tickled my funny bone:

``Actually, the Pugsley is a shameless rip-off of the Rambouillet. All Surly did was change the angles a couple degrees, make the tubes thicker, build in clearance for 4-inch tires, offset the frame in one direction and the rims in the opposite direction so normal hubs could be used without the chain hitting the tire, and make the front and rear wheels interchangeable. But the dead giveaway is the 2 wheels and the place to sit: classic Grant Petersen!''

Thanks to Jim Thill for the smile.

855km so far this year.

Cutting it fine

2010-01-25T07:49:00.005+11:00

Well, I've done the Alpine Classic 200km. Not without drama though. After more than 13 hours on the road, I made it to the finish line with just 19 minutes to spare!

It was quite a ride. I made a good start and was over Tawonga Gap and up Falls Creek (60km) in good time and good style. A short break at Falls for a snack and I was back on the road, cruising through for the climb up the other side of Tawonga. The descent back into Bright (130km) is one of the better parts of the ride, and after seven hours of elapsed time I was pretty happy with my progress. A short break in Bright to cool down and have a bite to eat and it was off to tackle Mt Buffalo.

Here's where things became slightly more challenging. It's a tough climb and it was the hottest part of the day. I slowed considerably on the way up, stopping every kilometre or so to catch my breath. At this end of the field, at this time of day, at this distance into the ride, many of my fellow riders were feeling the same pinch, as onward and upward we ground, aided by the occasional shouts of encouragement from riders returning at speed from the summit.

By the time I made the control at the top, time was getting on. I knew from my previous descent of the mountain that Bright was at least an hour and ten minutes away, although likely longer for a tired rider. I had an hour and thirty minutes to beat the cutoff.

As spectacular and as speedy as the descent is, it was largely lost on me as I counted down the minutes remaining with no sign of the bottom. My heart went out to the poor buggers still struggling up the grade, many of whom had no chance in hell of completing the ride in time. I was pretty determined to avoid that fate. Porepunkah finally drew near and it became apparent that I had about 20 minutes to cover the remaining ground to Bright. But how far was it? My best guess was ten kilometres, which was clearly going to be beyond me at that time of the day.

So I was pretty relieved when I rolled past the sign flashed past saying "Bright 6km". I was back in the game. Another rider sensed my plight and dragged me along for a bit at speed before he flagged and I took a turn thundering along the final stretch. Eventually Bright drew into view and I knew I was going to make it. The actual finish was a bit of a blur, partly because I was completely spent and partly because my eyes seemed to be a bit misty for some reason.

I've wanted to do the Alpine Classic 200km for years, and have never thought I was up to it. I'm tremendously happy to have finally done the ride, even if I did finish by the barest of margins. It was a fitting finish to a tremendous week of riding. As for next year, well the 130km distance is looking pretty good.

721km so far this year.

Tapering.

2010-01-23T10:21:00.005+11:00

The last couple of days of the Semaine Federale are, for me anyway, a chance to take things easy ahead of the Alpine. After riding nearly 300km in the last week a couple of easy days aren't going to do any harm and will hopefully leave me a bit fresher for the big event. The final day of riding in the Semaine involved a mere 20km jaunt out to Boynton's Winery just outside of Porpunkah. The temperature was reached a top of 41 degrees in Bright, so contemplating strenuous exercise was probably not a good idea anyway.

This last excursion was a journey which was to take seven hours - possibly not the fastest 20km in Audax history, but to be fair to our group of four there were many distractions. After a leisurely breakfast on the deck of the Bright Football Club, the outward journey went well enough - we were the first to the winery, where we had a rest on the deckchairs and a natter. We rode a few kilometres up the road to the Bright Berry Farm where we devoured some lovely boysenberry ice cream and another long chat. Back to the winery, where another hour or two were spent over the odd glass of bubbly and some gentle relaxation before we managed the 2km ride to the popular Rail Trail Cafe for a delightful spot of lunch.

On the way back we dropped in on some friends staying closer to Bright and another hour was delightfully spent. By the time I made it back to ride HQ I was well and truly the last rider home most of the day had gone in a blur of ease and conversation. Just two of the seven hours that has passed had been spent in the saddle. But still, not a bad way to end a lovely week of riding.

508km so far this year.

Bike polo

2010-01-20T20:36:00.008+11:00

A mob of Melbourne hipsters put on a bike polo demonstration for us today. I was astonished at how small the court was, and how well they played. There was a chance for audience participation, but my hand-eye coordination is the reason I ride a bike instead of playing ball sports.

My heroes ride slow.

2010-01-20T19:54:00.003+11:00

I spotted my first pair of shaved (male) legs in Bright today, a reminder the Alpine Classic will very soon be upon us. It's also a reminder too that huge egos of the lycra brigade will soon be arriving in town. Though most audax riders are humble and interesting people, some of the folk this ride attracts seem never to have learned the lesson that being a good bike rider and being a decent or fully-formed human are two different things that don't necessarily travel together. It's an epidemic among racing cyclists, who seldom smile or wave or acknowledge the rest of us when out on the road. There will be plenty of shaved legs and bright team jerseys and attitude in town this weekend. And I'm forecasting an undersupply of humility and perspective.

Riding up a few hills on a $8000 carbon fibre bike doesn't impress me greatly. If you're thin and fit and young, it would be more surprising if you couldn't. My cycling heroes do better than that.

Try Lan Yin Tasi (top left). She's 84. Every year for the past 26 years, she's cranked out 200km to raise money for multiple sclerosis research. She does it on a single-speed bike, in a dress and high heels. That's pretty impressive.

Or how about Bram Moen's mum? She covers 6000km a year, just like me, but she's 84 and just got a flash new bike. Or Scott Cutshall, who lost about 150 kilograms and rode himself back into health.

I guess there will be a lot of rich white blokes - the mainstay of competitive cycling - in Bright this weekend who think they're pretty special. The shocking truth is, they're not.

421km so far this year.

A bastard called Buffalo

2010-01-19T15:53:00.008+11:00

Mt Buffalo is the final major climb of the Alpine Classic 200km. I've never ridden it, although I've heard chilling tales and looked into the dead eyes of those who've tackled the beast after 130km of riding in the midsummer heat. One friend, absent from the Classic this year due to an ever-expanding list of almost-credible excuses, rates this his favourite climb. But there's nothing like finding out for yourself.

Like the other rides I'm doing this week, the 72km round trip up Buffalo and back was meant to be a confidence builder. And that's exactly how it started out on the lower slopes of the 1695 metre mountain - the day was cool and the going not too hard, just a steady pedal up the nicely-graded road as it winds upward and upward. After about an hour of this, it's hard not to start wondering how much further is to go, especially as a steady stream of early starters are coming the other way yelling greetings as they blur past. No clue from road markings or signs. No sky visible through the trees signalling a crest. Never mind, I tell myself, enjoy the views and push onwards.

After two hours, with the top nowhere in sight and the second water bottle rapidly emptying, it's hard not to become a little dispirited. I hadn't eaten, thinking two hours would nail it and was starting to get hungry. Finally the top of the climb came into view and an undulating four kilometres across the top took me to the lunch stop, my confidence not built so much as challenged.

A quick bite to eat and back on the road. Mindful of the cool temperatures, I bought myself a local tabloid newspaper, hoping that a thin tissue of lies stuffed down my jersey might hold off the chill of descending. And so it proved: I stayed tolerably warm during the thrilling descent back towards Porepunkah. Two and a half hours of upward toil was gone in less than 40 minutes of descending. I took the opportunity of enjoying the last five kilometres into Bright, imagining the thrill and relief of an Alpine finish. Here's hoping. Sunday will tell.

Rest day tomorrow. I need it.

421km so far this year.

Making peace with the beast

2010-01-18T15:27:00.010+11:00

I'm no climber, but even thin, fit people on light bikes tell me Tawonga Gap is a beast of a climb. I'm not sure why I dislike it so much, but it's always been my nemesis in the Alpine Classic and I wasn't overly looking forward to riding it today. The western side is the first climb of the Alpine, and it certainly gets the blood, sweat and tears flowing, but the eastern side is a real bastard: a five hundred-odd metre upward grind averaging 6.4 per cent over just seven kilometres, particularly cruel if you've already done a bit of riding and the weather is hot, conditions which are pretty normal at the 100km mark of the Alpine Classic.

The second day of the Semaine Federale offered a trip over the Gap to Mt Beauty as the 'medium' difficulty option. I was ready to take my medicine, but to my surprise, Tawonga Gap and me seem to have buried the hatchet. The weather was cool and overcast today, so maybe that had something to do with it, but I floated up and floated back - if anything about a sweating granny gear grind can be called floating.

Playground of pain.

I rose late, enjoyed a more modest breakfast and gave it some time to go down, so the outward journey was unremarkable except for the unseasonally chilly temperatures on the way down the Mt Beauty side of the hill and the fact I dropped one wordless wheelsucker on the climb and passed two folk on mountain bikes. At the lunch stop I discovered I had forgotten my brightly-coloured lunch ticket, so had to stick my hand in my pocket. After a most enjoyable and relaxed lunch in the cafe it was back on the road with chattering teeth hoping the first climb would warm me up a little.

Happily that's exactly what it did. Concentrating on not wearing myself out - there is a similarly gruelling climb of Mt Buffalo tomorow - and sticking to a steady pace, I found the return voyage much easier than the outbound trip. This steady pace saw me cheerfully at the top in just over 40 minutes, just in time for a bright red Hyundai i30 hatchback with NSW registration plates XBE023 to pass within 30cm of my elbow and speed off into the distance.

The descent into Bright was a blast, even with a little rain which made the corners slick, and I was happy to complete the 62km with two difficult climbs in just under three and a half hours on the bike. I was even happier to spot a bright red Hyundai i30 hatchback with NSW registration plates XBE023 in the main street of Bright while heading for a post-ride beer. It was clearly their lucky day, because I opted to leave a polite note on their windscreen, rather than carving it into their shiny new paintjob. All in all a righteous day's work.

344km so far this year.

And so it begins.

2010-01-17T13:04:00.005+11:00

After my last giddy post it's perhaps not too surprising I was up bright and early for the first day of riding in the Semaine Federale. It was cooler today than yesterday's 35 degree heat so I pulled on a long jersey before heading over to Ride HQ next door for breakfast. And what a spread there was: sausages and bacon and eggs and toast and juice and more. I lounged around and ate far too much before sorting myself out for a flat 60km to Myrtleford.

There's no official start time on the Semaine Federale rides, so after watching a few folk get away early I set off about 8.30am. Distended stomach notwithstanding, I followed a couple down the excellent Rail Trail, although many riders for some unknown reason chose to stay on the road. Soon after leaving Bright I was on my own and making steady progress into the headwind, the long sleeved jersey discarded as the sun came out. Just outside Myrtleford I picked up a couple of other riders, but they apparently weren't feeling social or don't appreciate large bearded men drafting them to escape the wind, so I let them continue on their wordless way.

Both the 100km and the 60km rides today appealed and although the 100km was tempting it's a bit dangerous to go out too hard on day one. The urge to ditch the plan was never stronger than at Myrtleford where the ride signs showed only a flat and easy 20km to the Lake Buffalo checkpoint. I stayed strong and repaired to the bakery for a cool drink. There were more riders about here: with 100 riders, three ride options and no set start times, people tend to spread out a bit on the road. I had a chat with the famous Leigh Patterson (pictured below), chucked my lunch in my musette (10.30am is a tad early for lunch after a huge breakfast) and got back on the road.

The ride back was made even more agreeable by the tailwind. More riders were evident now, particularly families taking advantage of the rail trail and the bike parking at the Rail Trail Cafe at Porepunkah was well and truly full. The last few kilometres were fast ones, even dodging the growing bike traffic as the Rail Trail neared town. We have a harder ride tomorrow - over the evil Tawonga Gap - so nice to have an easy day to start with. Happily, I'm back in time for an afternoon nap before the riders' bar opens at 5pm.

281km so far this year.

Ready for the Semaine Fédérale en Australia

2010-01-16T19:31:00.004+11:00

The Semaine Federale stars tomorrow. A week of Audax rides out of Bright in the lead up to the Alpine Classic. It's the first time the much-loved event has been held outside of France. I signed up about a day after the event was announced and in an act of uncharacteristic forward planning booked my accommodation a year in advance, which was just was well. I snared the last rooms in Bright for the Alpine weekend.

I'm in Bright now, like a kid waiting for Christmas. I left Hobart Thursday night, took the Bass Strait ferry Friday morning, stopped over in Lancefield Friday night for a pre-ride ride with the mighty Lancefield Lairs and arrived in Bright this evening - Saturday after another three hour drive. Despite being a full day before I told them I would be here (my planning and logistical skills aren't really that great, especially when I'm working well in advance) the lovely folk at Pioneer Garden Cottages were able to fit me in.

I unpacked the bikes, I bought two because you can't be too careful and went to register for the event. The lovely ride organisers gave me five maps, covering the week's rides, an armband and a brevet booklet for the checkpoints. Breakfast and lunch are laid on daily. All I have to do is to turn up each day and decide whether I want to do the 100km hard ride or the 60km medium ride. The 6-10km easy ride might be taking things a bit easy. My wife arrives Thursday to come for a few rides and soak up the amazing atmosphere of Bright at Alpine Classic time and three of the Lairs will be joining us for the night before and after the Alpine. Even the weather forecasts look ok.

How good a week is this going to be?

(Photo is a random shot I took during the 2006 Melbourne Commonwealth Games.)

Sometimes the outcome is inevitable

2010-01-16T19:22:00.003+11:00

Too good to pass up on, check out this mad carbon fibre wheel failure. The link comes from Cycling Weapon of Mass Destruction, which is one of my all-time favourite cycling blogs. A guy who really loves bikes.

214km so far this year.

Do not ask for whom the bell tolls

2010-01-04T21:24:00.003+11:00

Cadel Evans reckons drivers licences are too easy to get and too hard to lose in Australia. I agree. Bad motoring killed 1500 people on Australia's roads last year. All too often a cyclist dies because a driver is speeding, inattentive, impatient or drunk or more than one of these factors.

More than 178,000 people have died on on Australia's roads since records were first kept in 1925. That's the population of Geelong, our 12th biggest city, where Cadel was speaking. It's such a terrible cost.

76km so far this year.

And that was the year that was.

2010-01-01T19:24:00.006+11:00

It wasn't a bad year, 2009. Here's hoping 2010 is a cracker for everyone.

I managed to crank out 6,047km on the bike, my second best year on record at an average speed of 21.6km/h, a slight improvement on previous years. The magic 6,000km mark wasn't achieved in the usual frenzy of November and December pedalling, but achieved via a little more consistency and slow and demanding hill riding in preparation for the Alpine Classic and the Semaine Federale in just two weeks. The distance came through 178 rides, 282 hours in the saddle and yielded a new top speed of 86km/h. Another Alpine 130km, another Oppy, another Mallee Routes. My first permanent and my first time trial in years. Some briliant off road riding and some challenging hills late in the year for a bit of variety. In March I rode 881km, my best month since I started writing my rides down in 2005, and in August just 112km. The rain didn't help much, Tasmania had it's rainest year in 70 years, though I know it's not a good excuse it does tend to reduce the impulse to get out there.

I set myself some goals this year, which I'd quite conveniently forgotten until now: 7200km on the bike, well that didn't quite work out; a top 1,000 finish on bikejournal.com, not even close - it seems theres a lot more people on it this year; 180 rides, well nearly; average speed of 22.5km/h, at least I'm heading in the right direction. A vintage Oppy, the Alpine Classic was great, but I don't think I qualify for an Audax Australia award this year.

I don't think I'm going to set any hard and fast goals for this year, though I'd like to improve on last year. I've made plans to the Alpine, the Oppy, some touring in September, a trip to watch the World Cycling Championships in Geelong the same month. I want to qualify for the Year-Round Randonneur award by completing a 200km ride every month. There's a start.

Blog-wise, the year wasn't too bad either, 37 posts -which is down a little on the average in the four years I've been blogging here. The site had 6700 visits from 4400 visitors from every continent and a host of countries, mainly Australia, the UK and the US, but also Namibia, Afghanistan, Peru and Latvia among a host of other wonderful and far flung places. To everyone who read or offered a comment or linked or said something in person, thanks. May 2010 be safe and prosperous and may each of your rides seem somehow downhill and with the wind at your back.

0km so far this year.

Another forest mission

2009-12-20T22:21:00.012+11:00

The quiet tracks and trails near home beckoned again and Saturday saw three of us setting out on another Southern Forests adventure. With the lessons learned from the last mission fresh in our minds, and some new tricks no doubt to be learned, Tim, Ben and I set off on what was for some reason dubbed the Big hilly dirt river loop. The ride goes from near my home in Judbury, over some hills to follow the Huon River before crossing and heading back roughly along the other bank. Sounds simple enough.

The first ten kilometres of the ride is mostly uphill, a grind up Bermuda Road with a couple of really steep sections before the top. Once it levels out there were only a couple of minor navigational challenges before we found the top of the Bracken Ridge Fire Trail - which turned out to be the highlight of the ride. It was narrow double track, lined with trees and ferns, rutted in parts with some mud and some nice technical sections. I excelled myself by wrenching my left brake lever part-way off by hitting the bottom of a descent a bit too hard. Exhilarated at the bottom of the descent, we set off in search of lunch at the Airwalk, briefly encountering one of only two cars we'd see on the 60-odd kilometre middle section of the ride.

I'd been told by someone who knew the area pretty well that we were mad to venture into such parts without mountain bikes. A mountain bike would have been useful in a couple of spots, but the trip turned out to be a testament to the versatility of the cyclocross bike.

Both Ben and I rode Surly Crosschecks (Tim rode a lovely Rohloff-equipped 26-inch expedition tourer, which admittedly took to the conditions like a duck to water too) and they handled the conditions pretty well. I've probably said before if I only had one bike it would be a Crosscheck - the real beauty of this bike on a ride like this is that it makes a good fist of just about any conditions - and with the right tyres - are pleasant and predictable on sealed or unsealed roads and tracks.

Planning our route on via Bikely and using MotionX GPS to upload the track to my iPhone meant we weren't dogged by any of the navigational problems of our last trip through the area. Another excellent lunch at the Airwalk followed by an unsuccessful attempt to fix my rapidly loosening brake lever. Off once more and through some locked gates and then another for a short climb and a long descent down towards the Weld River bridge, but not before Ben has his traditional mid-ride puncture.

Riding along these well-made roads, it's a marvel that we didn't see anyone else on them all day. The forestry road network is well graded and generally smooth and appears to be almost completely deserted on the weekends. It's such a fine resource, it's a shame it's not better known or mapped or promoted or even signposted. The odd forestry coupe might detract a little from the beauty of the forests for some people, but the overall impression for me is of an opportunity lost.

Onwards we sped, past the Veneer Mill and over the last couple of climbs towards home - the Denison Range being the last challenge before the long coast along the river back to Judbury where we'd left the cars. About five kilometres out my brake lever finally gave up the ghost but as I expected was held in place by the cable, so no big drama there. We ended the day with around 70 kilometres almost entirely on dirt roads and tracks, a most enjoyable and memorable ride.

5,851km so far this year.

The Ash Dash

2009-12-15T21:07:00.008+11:00

Also known as the Seven Hills Dash, the Ash Dash is a local Audax ride of some reknown. It's a 200km ride over some of the larger hills south of Hobart. It's a ride I've often contemplated but never tried, mainly out of fear that I wasn't up to it. With 3000m of climbing in 210km, it's a pretty big day out.

I've been training for the Alpine Classic 200km ride and with all the mad dashes up the steep and unrelenting grades of Strickland Road on the slopes of Mt Wellington immediately behind Hobart town have taught me something interesting: training really does help. Who would have thunk it? As I've done more and more of the climbs after work I've watched my best time fall and my average speed rise. That has to be a good thing.

Perhaps then it probably shouldn't have been much of a surprise to find out that all of that hard work meant my legs were stronger on the Ash Dash than on just about any ride I've done. I'm slow in the hills and the bunch of about 20 disappeared from view on the first rise up Davey Street. I was in no rush though, the 500m climb up Strickland Road is just an appetiser and there's another pretty serious climb out of Longley not long afterwards.

What follows is a bit of a phony war. There's a long flat section as the kilometres slide by and despite a hard climb over Silver Hill around the 90km mark, the first 100km disappears fairly easily. Then the serious stuff begins. Woodbridge saddle is a horror of a climb, hitting a gradient of 18 per cent before the top. Gladly there were a couple of other people waiting in the shade at the summit so being last wasn't all that lonely. The remainder to the trip around the Channel was pretty uneventful and I rolled into Cygnet not far behind my friend Tim about 3.30pm for a cafe break.

After an interlude enjoying cake and cold drinks we were back on the road, over the bumps out of Cygnet and onward to the imposing Pelverata Saddle. Here too the steep grades forced me of the bike for a short stint afoot. After a break at the top it was eagerly off for the last 20km.

The best thing about the Seven Hills Dash is that the last 10km are downhill. The 7km immediately before them are uphill though and it was slowly that I ground my way past the Longley pub and up through Neika to Ferntree. There's a point near the Ferntree Tavern where the road turns down. I allowed myself a smile there, I knew I'd conquered the Ash Dash.

Out along the Huon

2009-12-11T18:04:00.007+11:00

There's a big river that runs not far from my place and a heap of logging roads through the tall forests on either side all the way south to Geeveston and beyond. Since moving here I've only ventured out there once, but I've been keenly aware I've been missing out on something. Ben and I had a crack at the southern forests today with fat knobby tyres on our Surly Cross Check cyclocross bikes.

We set off with the dim plan of following the river down to a tourist attraction known as the Tahune Airwalk, have some lunch and ride back. It's about a 40km round trip and reasonably flat. I had a bit of an clue how to get there, but there are no up-to-date maps and Google Earth is only so much use. We made good time and picked up some unexpected road signs counting down the distance to the Airwalk, counting it down from about 20km out. We crossed the Huon on the bridge near the Ta Ann veneer mill and pedalled on. After a while we didn't see any more signs, but we hadn't passed any obvious turnings and it never occurred to us we might be on the wrong track. Never mind, of such stuff are adventures made.

After about 25km of a planned 20km ride we came to a T-interesection. Airwalk 15km right,

Geeveston 8km left it said. Bugger, we're miles out of our way. Which way to go? We decided to press on regardless, climbing a long and arduous hill I've noticed form the car and vowed never to tackle on a bike. Never mind, some lovely descending followed and we counted down the kilometres to the Airwalk in pretty quick time with 45km on the clock by lunch.

A lovely feed was had and some directions gleaned and we were back on the bikes along the fast and mainly flat dirt roads back towards the car. We spotted the veneer mill through the trees and decided to take a shortcut when the road turned in the wrong direction. Often this is a bad idea which leads to backtracking, but a section of pretty cool singletrack took us to a broad but shallow river crossing which we forded with the bikes before pressing on again.

Back at the mill, it was simple navigation and an easy ride towards the car. Undeterred by a flat tyre about 5km out we rolled back down the dirt to the end of a very enjoyable adventure. I'm a little disappointed I haven't spent more time checking out these largely traffic-free roads in the past, but now I've had a taste there's some pretty cool trip plans forming in my head.

5755km so far this year.

Riverbank Ramble 200km permanant.

2009-11-22T10:08:00.002+11:00

Blog back from the dead. Wowsers be gone.

I'm dead keen on getting the Year-Round Randonneur Award for completing 200km rides in 12 consecutive months. It's good to have a goal - even if it's a mad one. To that end, yesterday I set off on the Riverbank Ramble 200km permanent. A permanant is like a normal audax ride, but you can do it any time. Permanants are recognised for local awards, but are not Brevets de Randonneurs Mondiaux homologated. It's good you should know these things.

The ride is a delightful trip up the Derwent River, to the vicinity of Ouse, then back down. It's pretty low-traffic despite taking in some of the Lyell Highway and features some fun hills - 2000m of climbing in all.

I set off slightly after 7am and cruised over Bonnet Hill before passing through town and heading up the bike path. The 500m climb up to Glenlusk was the first major challenge of the day, but I took it easy, stopping at the top to put on a raincoat to ward off the odd drop of rain. Off once more I passed New Norfolk, opting to stop at the roadhouse at Bushy Park where there is always a warm welcome.

After a 20 minute break it was back on the bike for the delightful section through to Westbury, and then the hills beyond. No major dramas through this section although I was running a little slower than I would have liked - possibly the effect of some harder training rides during the week. Lunch at Hamilton boosted my strength and the hill just outside town provded to be no major challenge.

Downhill at last, although the joy was tempered by a niggling headwind which slowed my efforts to make up some time. By the time I got to New Norfolk again I was starting to flag so I took a break and topped up my energy stores. My lower back was hurting a bit, I suspect because I hadn't been moving around on the bike enough.

The last 50km, though flat, was a bit of a grind. I cruised back to Granton and cheerfully picked up the bike path through Claremont to the city. I took an unscheduled stop to chat to some new Audax riders who'd just finished the Port Arthur 200km and pushed on the the final 15km. Despite feeling a bit ragged by this point, the final ascent of Bonnett Hill didn't prove too problematic, and I arrived back at the car a shade under 12 hours, with a riding time of just over 10 hours for the 207km.

I'm pretty happy with the effort for my first ever solo 200km. Double centuries are generally a bit of a test for me, particularly the hilly ones, but this ride is a delight. I recommend it to anyone.

(Photo taken up near Longford during my failed 300km attempt a couple of weeks back.)

5,265km so far this year.

Riverbank Ramble 200km permanant

Share your bike routes @ Bikely.com

Tell me the old, old story.

2009-10-30T09:54:00.006+11:00

There has been a lot of anti-cyclist rants in the nation's newspapers over the last few days. No sooner had I posted about the Brisbane bus assault there was a second such attack in Sydney. This time the cyclist was arguably in the wrong. Despite the fact the bus did nearly kill him, the rider was illegally on a bus-only stretch of road. Still, the incident provoked the sort of predictable outrage I normally ignore. Like rubbernecking at a car crash sometimes I just can't help myself but read this garbage.

Someone called Michelle Cazzulino at Sydney's Daily Telegraph headed the charge, with an extraordinary rant under the headline Idiots on Bikes Powered by Smugness. It was not only poorly written but poorly argued. A professional journalist should be able to be better than this, because even the most committed cyclist will enjoy an original take on the age old debate. Poor Michelle proved herself unequal to the task - it's pretty sad for her when an inflammatory piece on a hot-button issue attracts just 26 comments online. Not much in that one for those of us who ride because we enjoy it, or because it's a practical way to get around or to stay fit, or to save a few bob on petrol or parking each day. It's a bit sad too when the News Ltd One Degree global warming campaign is trying to encourage people to ride their bikes instead of driving.

Token right-wing Sydney Morning Herald columnist Miranda Devine was next, again with nothing new to say. Roads are for cars, she says, forgetting buses, trucks, motorcycles and, gasp, pedestrians. I hope you get run over crossing the street Miranda, I really do.

There's nothing new, not in the columns themselves, nor in the tides of impotent rage from either side. But even as a few dumb columnists plow through the motions of causing division and beating up whipping tribal hatreds one more time, people are dying because somehow as a society we can't find a way to co-exist on the roads.

It's a shame nobody can muster the same sort of outrage we've seen this week when someone is killed - but no, that sort of response gets saved up for when a newspaper columnist's drive to work is slowed by a few seconds or because their body image is threatened by someone wearing lycra. It's a funny sort of society we've made for ourselves.

But at the heart of it, maybe no one really cares. Just this week, a driver in Adelaide who has killed two people in identical accidents at the same intersection in seven years was described as a river of "limited aptitude, competence and temperament" by a coroner. A driver so bad, so dangerous to us all, that her licence was suspended taken away from her for a staggering 18 months.

I wish it wasn't so, and I also wish that every time this debate flares anew, those of us who cycle and who drive and who pay the taxes which build our roads could come up with a better response just ranting on the internet.

4664km so far this year.

Blown away at the Mallee Routes

2009-09-28T10:24:00.005+10:00

To be a randonneur is to invite a certain amount of discomfort into your life along with the rewards from one enjoys among the long hours in the saddle, the hills, the weather and the other assorted perils of the road. This year's Mallee Routes opened the door to discomfort rather wide, with the strongest winds I've ever ridden into, magpie attacks, and rain and hail thrown in for good measure. Hard times seem to be a feature of this ride: 2006 and 2007 were tough outings for me too and last year, which I missed, was apparently pretty windy too.

On paper this can be a wonderful ride through some wonderful countryside. There's a dinner on Friday night for the riders who gather from Adelaide and Melbourne and from even further afield. The accommodation at the Hopetoun bush retreats is top notch. The Mallee country is flat, the weather is usually warm and the Victorian country roads are quiet on AFL Grand Final day so it's a good time for a ride. The route passes through seemingly endless wheat and canola fields and lovely historic country towns. There are ride choices from 50km to 600km. I was intending to ride the 200km event, but despite the gloomy weather forecast, was talked into signing up for the 300km by ride organiser Peter Annear. My plan was to decide along the way - reverting to the 200km distance if the weather was as bad as the strong winds, rain, hail and possible thunderstorms the forecasts seemed to suggest.

Things didn't look too terrible at the 6am start and despite a bit of wind I made a pretty reasonable getaway riding in the small groups finding their legs on the long straight run towards Warracknabeal. A very quick stop at the roadhouse and I was again on my way - passing the 100km mark a few minutes under four hours. The tailwind along the leg to Birchip was phenomenal, pushing me along at a steady 30km/h. After a short stop to take off some clothing I found myself motoring down a slight incline at 44km/h chasing down a rider I'd been chatting away the miles with. I reached Burchip for a burger by 11am. My average speed at this point was over 25km/h and I was feeling strong.

Getting a tailwind like that on the outbound leg means you're going to have to pay the piper big time on the way home. It's a Mallee Routes tradition. Back on the road, the wind increased and big black clouds rolled in. The rain started, then some hail. I was drenched by a passing car which hit an inopportune puddle. Somehow despite all this, I was feeling pretty good and was still toying with completing the 300km course. And then the wind got really serious.

The weather station at Hopetoun Airport records a steady increase over the day. What started as a 20km/h westerly lifted into the 40s and 50s by 11.30am and the gusts were rolling in at 70km/h - a pretty forceful 20 metres a second. On the flat and largely treeless plains there isn't much to stop the breeze. As I turned west alone into the wind and made for Woomelang pub, my progress slowed to a crawl - 15km/h, then 12km/h, twice even forcing me to stop and wait as the most violent squalls hit. Grinding away in a gear I usually save for climbing hills, the 60-odd kilometres to the finish seemed to take forever. My mate Steve, who finished earlier, rode out to offer some company on the final slog. In the event, while my first 100km took under four hours, my second took six, and was much, much harder. My average speed for the day was just 21.6km/h. Still, I felt good and finished strong. It's a funny world in which 200km is a ok day on the bike.

Full respect then to the riders who managed to finish the longer distances: particularly the unstoppable Peter Heal who ride 600km in 26 hours. Because I didn't finish the course I nominated for, my result is a DNF, but finishing a 200km ride in under 11 hours in those conditions was a pretty good test. I love this ride, but next year I'll give some very serious throught to manning a checkpoint rather than again suffering like a dog out on the road!

4319km so far this year.

I want another bike.

2009-09-20T16:55:00.006+10:00

But I'm going to need a bigger shed.

4106km so far this year.