A month ago on the 23rd of Feb, the first Amy Gillet Foundation ride was held in Hobart under a gorgeous blue sky, in perfect cool still air, and along familiar back roads in and around and about Richmond. I'm rather hoping that Amy and her family would have enjoyed the sight of us cutting along in formation, but I rather think that we kind of missed the point. We were supposed to be out championing road awareness and safety, not letting the brakes go at the top of Grasstree Hill, forgetting that we were relying on aged steel pipes and crude ( at best ) brakes to keep us right side up ( not to mention Craig's 40 year old Dunlop Olympic Torch rear tyre... )
For those who don't know the name, Amy Gillet was a young and talented Australian cyclist killed in a road accident while training with team mates in Germany. The perspective-driving point of this is that Amy and her mates weren't doing anything alarming, just riding down a straight piece of country road...
Of course, we weren't alone in our flush of summer abandonment. Everyone else was enjoying the day, and the road, and the company, and the free show bag every bit as much as we were - forgetting to keep to the left a bit and generally hogging the road three abreast all over the place. The police officers amiably closing the first few kilometers of road must have been shaking their heads at the rabble. ( Yes I do know that cyclists in Tasmania are remarkably lucky and have equal rights as road users, and can legally ride two abreast - that's not really the point, is it ? )
We did get to ride over the Tasman bridge. With a lane closed to traffic and few Sunday morning motorists, this unusual experience set the tone for the day. The closed road group start was so cool in fact, that I must admit to a first rush of blood, passing the first third of the field ( from the very, very back ) on the way to the crest of the bridge, then letting the bike off the leash and plumeting down the incline from the centre point summit. I couldn't help it I swear, it was a first release of emotion from two weeks of late night bike prep, coupled with complete elation that we had made the ten mile ride from home to the start without incident, and in fact, the bikes seemed to feel pretty good to ride.
More admissions. We had only ridden the bikes, in draft form, the morning before after a frantic effort to get all three rollng in time. We'd never used a Sturmey Archer 3-speed hub in practice - actually out on the road - nor did we have much idea of the critical stopping power of a pair of philco brake calipers. Our optimistic logic was that if the flat ride to the start proved practical, and nothing fell off, then a flatish 100 in the Coal River Valley would be fine.
I had actually sweated over this a little in the days previous. Evening shed sessions started with setting up each frame and fork so that they would prove dependable, solid and without any wobble or slop. Fishing amongst my collection of bits garnered bearing races, balls and locking rings that worked together. Same logic to the bottom bracket. Free of play and solid, combinations were matched and adjusted carefully to ensure smooth and reliable running. Wheels then came together - respoked in some cases, tensioned in others - again with the intention of providing a solid running base.
The bikes are so basic in spec that there really isn't much else, just brake calipers and levers and then stem, bars, seatpost and pedals. But that is forgetting about small items like the gear trigger shift and roller pulleys for the gear cable, and the small collets required to finish off the brake cables to the correct length , or trimming the brake blocks to fit into the fixed housings...
But you see, there I go again getting all enthusiastic.
We've been lucky the last year and a bit. Aside from a few yobs who either love the sound of their own voice ( yelling unintelligibly from their passing window ), or the manly toot of their V8 air horns, the worst experience we have had over 4000Km on the road was during our recent 400 brevet, 90 from home in the darkness on the Midlands Highway. I was hit from behind by something ( I think an empty beer can ) thrown from the window of a passing truck. The projectile didn't do any damage - I'm just sorry not have caught the license number in the confusion and darkness.
It can that be that simple though - thoughtless and at times plain stupid behaviour can often have more serious consequences.
I know its a bit late, but apologies again Amy, for momentarily forgetting you and others who have suffered the same unnecessary fate. And thankyou to your family too, who have made it their mission to actively work through your foundation to ask all road users to actually think about what they are doing and consider the lives of others.
Bon Chance.
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