Florentine mission.

The Florentine Valley is remote, but a particularly scenic destination for cycling

There's a loop that's been tempting me for a while up in the heart of the Florentine Valley, a bit over an hour north-west of Hobart. It's a shade over 100km on forestry roads and describes a more or less complete circle around the Mt Field National Park. As is usual in Tasmania, there's a fair bit of climbing, but the ride as a whole is certainly an achievable challenge. I scouted sections of this ride a few months back in the car, but to be sure the roads were passable and was impressed.

So we set off last Sunday for a lash.  Given the remoteness of some of the road and the expected lack of traffic we chucked a satellite phone and an EPIRB in my hydration park, just to be on the safe side.

Tyenna River Bridge.

 

Having carefully planned the route using the excellent RideWithGPS website and given the weather forecast due regard, I'd decided that the best way to tackle the loop was to get most of the climbing done early. To this end we started from the little town of Westerway and climbed steadily on the tarmac through National Park and Maydena, where we had a quick stop.

The gravel started at the 23km mark as we turned off the Gordon River Road. The climbing was steady, not overly so, but certainly long and taxing. The white road surface had me thinking of the famous 'strada bianca' of classic rides of Italy's L'Eroica.

I have a theory that gravel roads are much easier to ride after rain than after prolonged dry spells because the loose material on the surface tends to be compact a little into the road. Instead, we found ourselves cursing out tyres choices and pressures on the loose dry gravel, which saw us frequently sliding sideways unexpectedly on the gentle camber of some of the uphill corners.

Gravel roads can be a challenge after long dry spells.

The views along the way are well worth the effort. The range made up of Florentine Peak, Tyenna Peak and the Knobs dominate the skyline from the road, and the odd clearing where forestry work had felled a coupe allows for some spectacular photo opportunities.

We made reasonable progress in the warm, still conditions, topping the range after about two hours of solid effort. It was here I heard the first rumblings of exhaustion though, a combination of not enough miles in the legs and a lingering debilitation from having had the flu. I told Ben I wasn't sure whether I was going to get all the way around and we agreed to give it a few more kilometres and see if the feeling passed. 

The Niner RLT continues to impress as a comfortable, capable all-day all-surface bike. 

Sadly it didn't. At the 45km mark, with the worst of the day's climbing behind us, I was spent. We decided to turn back as the ride back to the car was a simpler proposition than the 60-odd kilometres ahead. In hindsight it turned out to be the right decision, despite my disappointment at not completing the loop. A bit more training would help, although I already knew 100km+ in a day might be pushing it my luck after a couple of weeks off the bike. It's better to have tried and failed etc.

The ride back was a confirmation that this ride might be best tackled in spring or late autumn. The loose gravel had us sliding all over the place and in parts we were travelling more slowly downhill that we had on the upward journey, picking our lines with great care lest we come unstuck. A short break at Maydena and we were back on our way, 90km for the day still being a decent enough effort. And the Florentine still beckons for an outing on another day.

4164km so far this year.

Central Plateau Gravel Grinder - a quick lap of Tassie's frozen heart.

Setting out into the weather on Sunday morning.

We were creeping up the hill near Hermitage when the ice storm hit. There was a sprinkling at first, then 'hey, some hail' and then suddenly we were being pelted by small chunks of windblown ice mixed among a hefty downfall of freezing rain. I pulled up my rainjacket collar and raised my hand to shield my face from the stinging onslaught and looked back at Ben who was doing the same. There was nowhere to shelter and nothing to do but to press onward. Within moments were were wet and cold and resigned to a having a Very Bad Time. But as quickly as it came, the squall was gone and we were on our way again. So passed the only unpleasant five minutes of the best weekend's cycling I've done in years.

Leaving Waddamana for the big climb of the day.

In the middle of Tasmania lie the central highlands, a barren, mostly treeless swathe of high country dotted with pretty little lakes beloved of fishers and hunters. The Australian Antarctic Division trains its expeditioners in these parts, the coldest part of Australia's coldest state. The seed was planted when someone showed me their plan for a 150km loop near here a couple of years back. Then the idea morphed into a single day dash 'Over The Top', from Bothwell to Deloraine, a distance of about 130km. Finally it became a 200km two-day circuit from the town of Ouse with an overnight stop in Miena. The ride is about 95 per cent unsealed roads. (Our eventual route can be found here.)

The dates were pre-ordained by leave and rostered days off, although the forecast was not promising. Cold temperatures, rain, snow and wind do not make the best riding weather. All the same, Benny, Kiwi and I set off from Ouse at 9am on Saturday ready to take what came our way. All three of us rode steel bikes, lightly loaded. Two of us sported mudguards hastily fitted in the days before.

Ben admires the view not far south of Miena.

Our route took us through pretty farming country from Ouse north-east to Bothwell. Route-finding was made much easier by uploading a pre-plotted course to my Garmin 810 which squawked well in advance of every turn we needed to take. Our first day saw a big gain in height and we were riding uphill from the start, the tough ascents compensated for by the long descents through hidden valleys containing impossibly lovely sheep farms and willow-lined streams. Though it was cool, the rain held off. We had a snack at Bothwell before pushing north for a while on the Highland Lakes Road, one of the few sections of sealed road we would encounter on the trip.

Less than an hour later we turned onto the gravel again, passing through Hermitage and its pack of chained and very vocal hunting dogs and the momentary bad weather then climbed steadily alongside powerlines leading to the hydro electric village of Waddamana. There was a thrilling and scenic descent before we rolled past the well-preserved old village to our lunchstop at the power museum staffed by a delightful volunteer who was knitting following the Australian Football League grand final on the radio. We ate our lunch on the steps and took a quick tour of the museum, the only people to sign the visitor's book in three days.

Kiwi powers through the forest.

The climb out of Waddamana was around 400m over 4.5km and was tough. Ben and Kiwi patiently waited for me to plod up the hills all day and this climb was no exception. The steepest bits had a couple of us on foot. But soon enough it was over and we were thinking of the beers and the meal awaiting us at the pub in Miena. The cold westerly wind picked up as we regained the highway for the final push. Here I began to tire a little, though the final hill was soon passed and the road flattened s it passed the shack community at the southern end of Great Lake. We had covered 110km for the day on seldom-ridden dirt roads, climbing more than 2200m. Strava called it 'epic', I'm inclined to agree.

A hot, fast and filling meal was consumed and some beers downed in short order and we settled in for the night in the bunks of a fisherman's cabin. It was sufficiently cold outside to deter anyone from taking advantage of the shower block and the heater ran all night.

Morning dawned crisp and overcast and after a couple of toasted ham and cheese sandwiches and a breakfast pie from the local shop we were on our way again. Though rain looked possible there was little wind and there were fewer hills on the gravel Malborough 'Highway' so the going was much quicker than the day before. The scenery was starker too, more alpine compared to the forests we'd traversed on Saturday. I kept stopping to take photos which kept me well off the back of our small peloton. We rested at the shop at Bronte Park for a drink and to top up our supplies of chocolate for the last leg of our journey which we were hoping to complete before we needed lunch, as there were no other facilities on the way.

Heading across Stockyard Flats past Dee Lagoon.

The best of the ride came right at the end. We raced along past Dee Lagoon an into some stunning farming country before turning off towards the locality of Strickland. Here the road turned downwards and for a good 20km we were able to sit back and coast, dodging the rock on the descent through the pine plantation. Kiwi suffered a trio of punctures here on the rougher road. Reaching the highway we turned east and picked up a tailwind to propel us down the last six kilometers of highway to the car, thrilled at the stunning finish to the ride.

Gravel rides are becoming more popular worldwide - I suspect in part thanks to a desire by cyclists to seek out quieter and safer roads. We saw perhaps half a dozen cars on the dirt sections on Saturday (the grand final would have kept many inside) and maybe a dozen on Sunday. Even if we caught a lucky weekend with the weather and the traffic, I know I'll be heading back to the central highlands for daytrips and longer rides. It's stunning country and well worth a visit for the intrepid cyclist.

Nearing the highway to Miena near Shannon.

Dodging potholes near Bronte Park.

Dee Lagoon

Onto the highway for the final run into Ouse.

5,311km so far this year.

Short term review: Vittoria Open Pave CG tyres.

Well loved Shimano R500 wheels and Vittoria Open Pave CG's. Pretty much indestructible.

Anyone who has done much riding will tell you that wheels - and in particular tyres - are the most important single component if you're seeking to get the best performance out of your bike. But like with most things in life, there's a trade off with tyres: light fast tyres tend not to be tough or long-lasting and are more prone to punctures, heavier tyres are more durable but tend not to roll as nicely. I've tried quite a few different tyres and have found some which had great potential they never quite lived up to. For example I was a big fan of the Grand Bois tyres initially for their lovely supple ride, but found their high price, lack of puncture protection and short lifespan too much of a hurdle to overcome.

Enter the Vittoria Open Pave CG. The kind folk at Abbotsford Cycles sent me of the 25mm wide model of these these tyres to test. They are the clincher version of a distinctive green-banded tubular tyre popular with the pros on rides like the Paris-Roubaix. They're a nice, light folding tyre - sub 300g - and they look the part right out of the box. They were easy to fit and the light file tread reminded me of the Vittoria racing tubulars I used to use in days of old. The sidewall and tread appear to be smartly a single piece of rubber, eliminating a weak spot I found a fatal flaw on the Challenge Griffos. 

By Tasmanian standards, this is a very very nice gravel road.

I have been running the Open Pave's for a couple of weeks now in all conditions and I have to say I'm most impressed. On the tarmac, they are smooth and fast and responsive like a good light high pressure road tyre. They roll along with a pleasant hum, their grip is impressive - inspiring confidence in the wet. But they also handle dirt road astoundingly well. I've given these tyres an absolute pounding on the sub-standard roads around home. Even my venerable Gatorskins develop cuts and small holes over time and repeated gravel runs, but there's not yet a mark on the Open Pave's. 

In general, only a madman rolls down bumpy dirt roads with 100psi in their tyres as it's generally a recipe for shaking the fillings out of your teeth. The Open Paves have a suppleness to them that - while it certainly doesn't made the ride plush - certainly smooths out the bumps and reduces the road buzz far better than anything else of the same width. 

I note the Open Paves' are available in a 27mm tyre as well, which would probably be more to my liking for the sorts of conditions I ride in regularly where the road changes from tarmac to gravel and back every ten kilometres or so on some of the quieter routes I prefer. I'm going to use them in the 360km Oppy ride coming up in a couple of weeks in preference to the red Rubino Pros I usually ride on long road events. 

A few of the online reviews I've read have suggested the Open Paves are a good commuter or winter tyre, but I think this is selling them well short. This is a tyre perfect for spirited road riding in all conditions. They're an ideal tyre for Audax cycling, combining the elusive mix of fast-rolling, toughness, suppleness and strength. I'll keep riding these to see how well they last but at this early stage I like them so much that when they wear out, I'm definitely buying another set.

Yes, I have tested lots of different tyres!

My stretch of glory

The North Huon Road:  a fine stretch of gravel.

For almost every cyclist, fast or slow, competitive or commuter, there strikes the occasional desire to test the legs. For most of us not of the lyrca clad set, who entertain no illusions of Tour de France glory, the urge may seldom be strong enough to rise much above our normal pace, save for the occasional sprint through the orange traffic light or the rise from the saddle up a sharp hill or the sly pursuit of a another rider on the morning commute.

Those moments, competing with no-one - barely even ourselves - are all about the joy of propelling oneself down the road at an interesting  pace for a few moments or a few minutes. That racing spirit need not be strong, nor last for long, but it is there.

Similarly, for each of us there is a stretch of road, so familiar, ridden so often that we regard it almost as our own. Every bump, each turn, every hazard and rise is mapped is so deeply ingrained in our minds that each run along them can be done almost asleep.

For me, that stretch of road is the North Huon Road. It's one of the nicest stretches of gravel road around this neck of the woods. There's little traffic and the surface is usually smooth and fast. Roadies normally turn around just before this bit without realising what they're missing, lest their shiny plastic bikes be shaken asunder by a peril we lesser mortals cannot even perceive.

So imagine my surprise when I set up a segment on Strava for my favourite slightly downhill homeward gravel stretch, to find that I was within spitting distance of being the king of the North Huon Road! Normally I'm well down the leaderboard on popular segments, thanks to a combination of a lack of ability and a lack of caring. But on my own damn road, against just 15 others how has passed that way before? I had to be in with a shot!


I made my move coming back from the shops the other Sunday. The stretch is only 5km long and with the commuter bike locked in on the top chainring, a gentle tail wind and a bit of effort I was able to hold onto an average of 31km/h for the distance, coming in two seconds under ten minutes and knocking 30 seconds off the previous best. I think I've left myself a little room for personal improvement too. That's just as well, because I can feel the hot breath of a competitive neighbour one the back of my neck, trying to take back what it rightfully mine. But for for now these fleeting moments of glory are mine. I am the king of the North Huon Road.

3504km so far this year.

New bike day: Niner RLT gravel grinder

With so many lovely gravel roads around here I've been keen to get a disk braked gravel bike for a while. The Niner RLT looked to be just the ticket and after a bit of a wait for it to ship I can now say I have a bike that's perfect for about 80 per cent of the riding I do. After a couple of days and a steep learning curve on installing disk brakes I'd have to say I'm very happy with the bike so far. It's light and fast and comfortable and makes me want to ride all day. I'm still in the shakedown phase so my longest ride is 25km today on the flat. Something a bit more demanding looms tomorrow.

And how does it ride? Like a dream. Once I got the tyres right from the stock of offcasts in my shed right (Challenge Almazano, review to come). It soaks up the bumps nicely, and while the effect of the slightly long wheelbase is noticable in out-of-the-saddle efforts it's a bike that invites the rider to the stay seated and spin rather than jump up and grind. The steering is nicely predicable. I have a feeling we'll have many happy miles together, on road and off.

2036km so far this year.

First impressions: Challenge Griffo XS33 tyres

I've been looking around for a decent set of gravel tyres since my trusty old Schwalbe Marathons wore out. The Marathons are brilliant tyres but they keep messing around with the model names, so it's hard to figure out what the equivalent new models are. Besides, it's a good thing to try something new. I saw a Challenge Griffo on a mate's bike and liked the look of them.The reviews of Challenge tyres on the internet are mixed with some people saying they're a bit prone to punctures, although some others says this problem has been fixed by the addition of puncture protection in recent times. Hoping I was going to get some of the second type, I ordered myself a pair online a bit before Christmas. They're not exactly cheap at $A70 a tyre.

The tyres came the other day and I picked up some tubes and fitted them the other morning. They are nice looking (and even nice-smelling) tyres, light and 33mm wide with a tan sidewall and a low-profile raised diamond file tread with some small sidelugs, presumably to assist with cornering traction. They go on easily too despite a reputation for being tight. The red puncture proof strip in some Challenge tyres wasn't present in the tyres I received, nor was the PPS logo on the sidewall. I'm assuming this stands for (Puncture Protection System). 

I'm wary of initial impressions after finding Grand Bois tyres lovely in the short term but puncture prone once they have a few miles on them and I have sneaking reservations I might get bitten again. I managed to get a gravel ride in last night and I have to say I'm impressed. I inflated the tyres to a modest 70psi or so in the hope the greater width would soak up some of the bumps and that they most certainly did. The tyres felt grippy on tarmac and plush on gravel, making light work of a few ruts I hit and cornering well. Supple was the word that sprung to mind. Some of these qualities are common to all wide tyres, but the Griffos rolled well too, something not all wide tyres manage with the same elan.  I think I might have bored my riding companion by mentioning several times "I like these tyres". I'm enjoying the Griffos for now and hope they live up to their initial promise. At the same time I'm looking closely at what Challenge might have to offer for my touring bike.

Yes I know my stem is off-centre.

146km so far this year. 

Audax Bruny Lighthouse Dash 120km

Bruny Island is quickly shaping up as one of my favourite cycling destinations in Southern Tasmania. There really is a lot to like about the place. It's an island of great scenic beauty, there is relatively little traffic and even the hills aren't too steep or long by Tasmanian standards. It is almost a perfect destination for an Audax ride. I am probably going to rave about this weekend's ride at some length so I beg forgiveness in advance. I hope the photographs make up for the wordiness.

All audacious riders aboard the Bruny Island ferry. Photo by John Bown.

I put the Bruny Lighthouse Dash on the Audax calendar some time ago and while other things have occupied the front of my mind for the last few months I was always conscious that this event was coming up and going to be a lot of fun and had been looking forward to it very much. It turned out to be even better than my expectations, which is saying something.

Sunday turned out pretty much as forecast – warm and still and clear, the type of of summer’s day that really highlights how great it is to live in this part of the world. Unfortunately this time of year is also pretty busy in Tasmania because it is an extended run of generally pretty good weather and because there's a lot on, so there was a few people who with regrets couldn't make it. In the end there were seven starters – which is not bad for a new event – and we gathered at Kettering to catch the 7:45am ferry. A little less organised that I usually like to be, I managed to distribute brevet cards and give some final instructions as we crossed the picture-perfect waters of the D’Entrecasteaux Channel. A few minutes after 8am, the ferry had docked and we were off.

And that was the last I saw of everyone for hours. At any rate the solitude was most pleasant.

Now Bruny is a lovely destination and all the rest but it does come with one significant drawback –there's a solid climb about the start and finish of every ride you care to try. Knowing that the other riders were all pretty strong, I had a plan of how I wanted to get through the day so I let them draw away on that first long drag up from the ferry and was content just to spin away in low gear. No sense in exerting myself too much too early I reasoned. Quickly the others disappeared from view and I was left in my own thoughts and quiet contemplation of the perfect conditions.

For various reasons it's been a while since I've done all that much riding of any great distance and I wanted to make sure and I kept a steady pace so that I wasn't as wrung out at the end of the ride as I have been on previous expeditions to the island. So I stuck to my plan and took it easy, taking in the sites as the road wound south towards the neck, switching from tarmac to gravel and back, and rose again on the gentle hills which signalled the approach to Alonnah. On a Sunday morning there is not a lot of traffic on Bruny Island and what traffic there is tends to come in short bursts as the ferry brings daytrippers across from Kettering every hour or so and they fan out to their destinations. 

The obligatory handlebar level photograph. Nice shot of my duelling scar too

I had not planned to stop and eat but the shop at Alonnah was open and I wasn't in a rush so I took a short break and refilled my water bottles and and wolfed down and egg and bacon roll. I was conscious of the fact that there were no facilities for the next 50km.

Underway again I rolled over the hills south of the tiny town, riding for the first time on roads I have not ridden before. The gravel road briefly became rough then improved as it passed from council control into the National Park. I noted a couple of short steep descents that were going to give me some fun on the return voyage and waved to the first small bunch of returning riders as they headed north. To my surprise they were only a few kilometres ahead of me but of course had already enjoyed a break.

A couple of riders were still at the lighthouse when I got there, having a break from taking photos of the stunning scenery amid the car-borne tourists. The beautiful golden sand and the inviting blue waters of the beach nearby beckoned and on any other day I would've been tempted to wander down and spend a few hours enjoying some time on the deserted shoreline not far away. But today I was on a mission. An unhurried mission but a mission nonetheless.

Hugh enjoys the scenic vistas from one of the lookouts. Photo courtesy of Hugh Harvey.

Before I left home I had set myself a rough timetable of when I would pass through the each of the checkpoints and although I was running about half an hour behind I wasn't particularly worried as there was ample wiggle room and I wasn't feeling very tired. After a rest and a snack and a few photographs I set off again, soon passed by my fellow riders and promising to meet them at the hotel Bruny 25km onward for lunch.

The return journey was made even more pleasant by the occasional presence of a gentle tailwind, which cooled things down a little and provided the slightest of assistance from time to time. I stopped for lunch at the hotel, choosing a very basic pizza as a more palatable alternative to a whopping bowl of chips. My companions set off in a bid to catch an earlier ferry and I bade them farewell. Just as I was about to leave not long afterwards I noticed I had a flat front tire. Fortunately I've taken the carrying I couple of CO2 cartridges in my toolkit so the tube was changed and reinflated and I was on my way pretty quickly. No idea what caused that though.

By this time – partly thanks to lunch taking longer to arrive than I had hoped – I was starting to nudge against the time limit of eight hours for the 120 km ride. This is a pretty common problem for people who take breaks which are too long and too frequent but this was a day when I was more focused on enjoying every moment on the bike rather than spending too much time worrying about deadlines. I get enough of that on weekdays. But even when tired the average Audax rider can calculate average speed and distance and time with the uncanny accuracy and have a pretty good idea of when they are going to finish give or take five minutes, so I was reasonably confident that barring unforeseen mechanical difficulties I should make the final 35km before the 4pm cutoff.

I could sit on the beach and soak in that view for hours.

My plan of taking the things slow and steady was paying dividends as I found myself travelling smoothly up the final hills as I counted down the last few kilometres to the ferry. The last kilometre or two is a fast downhill run with a fantastic view of the channel. The satisfaction of having finished the ride was given a little boost as I zoomed past the dozens of cars lined up and bought a cool drink at the shop as I waited a few minutes for my turn to board. Despite being only a quarter of an hour within the time limit and being emphatically the Lantern Rouge I will rate this as one of the best days riding I've had in years and can't wait to spend more time exploring Bruny Island on my bike. 

Heading home on the ferry. Photo courtesy of John Bown.

For those riders who wanted to come along but were unable to because of other commitments I'm not going to take a lot of persuasion to run this ride again in some form in a month or two or three. And having had a second look at my maps and plans I reckon there is a cracking 150km ride that would allow complete traverse of the island’s many attractions in a single day which I think could end up becoming a real classic. Here’s looking forward to many more visits to beautiful Bruny.

270km so far this year.

Tassie Gravel.

I've been messing around with some story telling tools (aren't we blessed to live in such an age?). Over at Creativist I've put together a short multimedia-rich page on gravel riding in Tasmania. I hope you like it. 

2238km so far this year.

Audax Airwalk Extraordinaire 2014

 

It's a funny thing how new roads become familiar over time, how journeys once thought too difficult become mere preludes to explorations afresh. There was a time when the 30km ride to the Tahune Airwalk from Southwood was an exciting proposition for a Sunday, now it's a routine weekend circuit. It's human nature to want to explore and extend our horizons.

 

The Airwalk Extraordinare is an Audax ride I've run for three years now. Usually it's a combination of gravel and tarmac, making a handy loop which starts and finishes at Ranelagh and includes a section of highway. This year I changed the course to be more or less and an out and back affair, from Huonville deep into the Picton River Valley and back via the Airwalk, pretty much all on gravel roads. It's an ambitions 110km+ journey with some challenging hills and road conditions that can be unpredictable. There are no road signs along the way, we trace the route from memory, from explorations of days gone by. It's a route largely free of cars, although fallen trees and potholes pose intermittent and unpredictable hazards.

 



Climbing out of the Weld Valley.

This isn't a ride for everyone. This year there was only three takers, Ben and Hugh and I, so we set off at 9am, making good time over the Denison Range, the first challenge for the day. The weather was warm and still and I had my jersey pockets bulging with energy gels, just in case. One of my favourite climbs rolled quickly by, the gentle rise out past the Russell River, then the long downhill then flat section to the Weld. Another climb and another long descent and we were past the Airwalk and into the loop out to the Picton.

  

Picton River Bridge.

There's a shelter near the old condemned bridge on the Picton River and it's a good spot for a break, but only a short one for us as lunch beckoned. Surprisingly we zoomed back along the road on the south of the river with no trouble at all - these road have been known to eat tyres. We zoomed along, absorbed in the concentration of picking our lines carefully at speed to avoid the worst of the rocks. We were back at the Airwalk at 1pm on the dot for a bite to eat.

 

No cars behind these locked gates.

After a half-hour break we were off again. The rolling section down to the Huon River Bridge at Southwood pretty reliably takes 45 minutes. With a little of the air out of the tyres the bike rolled like a dream, smoothing out the bumps. The day was warming, although there was also the threat of rain, which we somehow seemed to skirt. I was beginning to tire a little by now, and Ben and Hugh kindly waited at the top of the climbs for me to catch up. Southwood and the top of the climb there soon passed by before it was once more onto the dreaded back of Denison Hill, which saw me on foot for a short section.  I call that 21st gear.

 

 

Rolling back over Denison Hill.

The final 20km back to Huonville was into the teeth of a very unnecessary headwind, so Ben and Hugh eased away as I resigned myself to spin onwards. Finishing within the audax road 100km deadline of 6h40 proved a touch ambitious, although we were only around 40m outside that, which was still well inside the 10 hours allowed for a dirt expedition. Amazingly and happily, we had not a single mechanical problem or puncture all day. Every adventure is the prelude to another, and so too was this, another most memorable day on the bike.

 

4998km so far this year.

Crash and burn

1/24th of a second off the deck.

Long experience has taught me that if you ride a bike long enough, sooner or later you're going to come off. It's preferable not to of course and a degree of care and experience - on the road in particular - can go a long way to reducing the risk. But most riders are still going to have the odd incident, whether through clumsiness (not getting your foot out in time) or just sheer bad luck - or pushing your luck. The latter of these probably best describes what happened to me on the weekend.

Glovers Bluff. Well worth the ride. 

On Sunday four of us set out in fine weather for a ride along the gravel roads in the Tahune. It was a lovely day and we were feeling good, so we rode up to Glovers Bluff to enjoy the views. On the way back down the narrow road from the lookout I managed to crash. One moment I was zipping along at a comfortable speed, the next I was lying on the ground, groaning in pain. 

I had a GoPro camera attached to my handlebars and turned on at the time. The footage shows the rider in front of me bunnyhopping a small obstacle, which I apparently didn't see or properly avoid. The still frame at the top shows that my handlebars snapped to the right. In a moment I was on my back. (I'm blaming a combination of speed and inattention for the mishap.)

The happiest rider.

The first few seconds after a crash I find it hard to tell how badly I'm hurt. The rider ahead of me stopped and we established my collarbone wasn't broken. I had gravel rash type grazes on my right leg, side, shoulder and arm as well as skinned left knuckles. My helmet had taken a blow on the left side and I had some pain in my back. Oddly, my new summer jersey wasn't damaged, nor were my shorts.  We were about an hour's riding from the cars in an area with poor or non-existent mobile phone reception so there wasn't much choice but to keep riding. 

After straightening the handlebars, we continued on. The dérailleur hanger on the bike was bent inwards, so I made a mental note to avoid the bottom two gears where the dérailleur was hitting the spokes. We stopped for lunch at the Tahune Airwalk and feeling sore, but ok, I continued on for the last sub-20km push back to the cars.

Everything was going ok until I managed to put my derailleur into the spokes, breaking it in half and making a bad day even worse. An attempt to rig the bike as a single-speed by breaking and shortening the chain wasn't much of a success because the chain was badly bent and the other riders left me alone and went to get a car to retrieve me with. Once they left, I fiddled around and fixed the gear and stubbornly continued as best I could, reaching the carpark not long after the others.

A trip to the doctor and for x-rays revealed no broken bones, although I seem to have done something to my one of my ribs which is making breathing painful. An osteopath I visited told me the damage I've done will take some days or weeks to heal. Given the amount of pain and my inflexibility, I've taken some time off work and the bike and will hopefully bounce back soon. I've managed to repair the bent dérailleur hanger by bending it back - one of the advantages of steel frames.

Looking back over the last ten years, I seem to have had four crashes worth noting. Two were minor and caused by mechanical problems, the third - in 2006 - was caused by hitting a tram line in Melbourne and left me with lower back pain for several months. The fourth was in Vietnam recently, and while spectacular left me with not much more than a grazed knee. Hopefully there won't be anything more to add to the tally for a while yet.

257km so far this year.

Gravel grinders of the Weld

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.

Weekend on Bruny

It's been a while since I posted, in part due to winter and illness and in part due to being overseas for a bit. Fortunately the perfect antidote to a few weeks in the smog and haze of China is a weekend on Bruny Island. The weather was great and the company terrific.

The four of us set off on Saturday morning on the 9.30am ferry ($5 return for bikes, a bargain). After grinding up the first hill we enjoyed the long descent to The Neck, where there's a gravel section and lovely water views, before regaining the tarmac for the run into Adventure Bay where lunch was procured.

Any thoughts of a lazy day were soon dispelled as we began climbing the hills out of Adventure Bay. There were two routes on offer. With my distinct lack of fitness - and some dumpling-related weight gain - I opted for a shorter run over the shoulder of Mt Mangana, while the fitter mob took a longer option. 

After enjoying a thrilling gravel descent and a few diverting undulations, I found myself at the Bruny Island pub at Alonnah with enough time to down a couple of beers before the others arrived with breathless tales of daring descent and death defying antics. 

After a large meal, and a few more beers, we rode the 7km back to our accommodation in the dark. Never was rest more keenly sought, though we managed to watch a football game on the TV before turning in for the night.

The following morning we were blessed by even more perfect weather than the day before - warm and clear and still. A quick 7km return ride to breakfast at the Alonnah shop for bacon and egg rolls and we were soon back on the road, grinding out the 40-odd kilometres back to the ferry. Even the last few hills were a pleasure to ride and we were back in time for a well-earned burger at Cygnet as a late-lunch.

A lovely weekend and one I hope to repeat before too long. The short video below captures some of the flavour of our trip.

3555km so far this year.

Bundle of Styx ride.

King of the Styx

There are great rides, and then there are rides when on the way back someone remarks: "Well, at least you'll get a good blog post out of this". Although it was a pleasant ride by any stretch, The Bundle of Styx was definitely in the latter category.

In our never-ending quest to seek out and ride fresh gravel, the mission was to ride a couple of sections of forestry road we've not tried before. The starting point was at Westerway, about an hour from Hobart. We were planning to do a 70km loop, heading up from Karanja to the Styx River Bridge and then having a poke through the Valley of the Giants towards Maydena before returning on the fast downhill tarmac to Westerway. Having driven these roads on reconnaissance trips I was confident we'd have no trouble finding our way and completing the circuit. (Route and profile here for the curious.) 

Benny and Kiwi and I set out around 10.30am, and made good time of the first dirt sections. The weather was good and the road wasn't in bad condition apart from a couple of short bits which had a bit of loose rock on them. We had a short stop at an old quarry then headed on towards the Styx River Bridge at about the 25km mark.

Because I thought the roads were in pretty reasonable condition - and because Ben had had reasonable success running narrow tyres - I took along my road bike shod with 25mm Gatorskin Hardshells. Gatorskins have a sometimes deserved reputation for being quality tyres able to soak up the worst punishment, so I didn't give much thought to carrying more than the usual two spare tubes in my repair kit. And that was to prove our undoing.

Heading down the steep, fast hill down to the river, I had a rush of blood and picked up a bit too much speed. Inevitably I've hit one of the larger rocks in full flight and managed to puncture both tyres at once. 

No problem, I thought, I'll have these fixed in a jiffy. The only minor problem was that on mounting one of my spare tubes, it immediately went flat from a faulty value. Ben, who was cracking nervous jokes about what might happen to us if we were stranded out in the bush, had a few self-adhesive patches, so we patched the three or four holes in one of my other tubes and put that in. It too went flat. As a last resort we used Ben's single spare tube. 

So here we were: in the middle of nowhere, 25km from the car, with no spare tubes or patches. We decided that pushing on would be foolish so we retraced our steps. That too proved to be a wise decision.

As Ben struck up jaunty songs featuring the assorted atrocities inflicted upon the stranded in these parts, my back tyre blew again. We were about 15km from the car. This time the only think I could think of was cutting the valves off the four punctured tubes and stuffing them into the tyre. Ben and Kiwi took off on a rescue mission and I limped onward. I eventually managed to make it all the way back to town.

The ride wasn't a total disaster. It was a nice day out and I got to play with a borrowed GoPro camera (low quality video here). And I re-learned some valuable lessons about how many tubes to carry and the need to carefully select your tyres to suit your ride.

3360km so far this year.

Tyred from trying.

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.