It’s done. 200, 300, 400 and 600 kilometre rides. The Audax Club Parisenne ( ACP ) Super Randoneurs Series is now in the bag. I’m not quite sure how to feel about that with a weeks distance and rest from the 600. Pulling up at the end of the 600 ride at 8 in the evening, having finished with a sore hip flexor but otherwise going strongly, was very satisfying – big grins all around, handshakes and the odd manly hug. It has been some time since this idea was first raised. A lot of mileage and effort has seen us transformed from 100Km heroes, into all day – and all night – conquerors of Tasmania
I think that actually reaching the finish of the 600 was pretty heartening. We had just spent the last two days pushing into a headwind – conditions seemingly swirling around to face us at every turn in the road. The final 50 had almost brought us to tears earlier in the day as we made the turn off the Midlands Highway and onto the Mudwalls road, only to discover that the strengthening breeze had shifted to a Southerly – so directly into our face for the final run home.
I won’t bore your with a blow by blow account of each ride, but rather hit upon the high and low points. You may wonder at the s-s-s-s-s-s reference in this week’s title. The telltale bump, bump, bump of a rear flat is not a fantastic feeling at 11.30 at night on a busy highway. Probably can’t really complain though, in 1500Km of riding, we have suffered just five punctures between us – three of those within five hours of riding on the 400 after my rear tyre took a bit of a battering on very coarse road base outside Launceston. The most surreal part of changing the third flat at the side of the road in the dark somewhere near Tunbridge was attracting a rather large Huntsman spider from the surrounding undergrowth. Presumably out hunting for its evening meal, the lights we were working under must have attracted its attention and it was busily investigating my front wheel when Gav spotted it. Glad I didn’t try to take off with it crawling in the spokes. With a gashed rear tyre plastered with stick-on patches and one of Gav’s tubes in place, I then spent the next couple of hours on the front, watching for anything larger than a grain of sand on the road ahead. This was ok though. On this 400 ride we had paid our headwind dues on the way North, and then enjoyed a fantastic run home again ahead of a freshening tail wind. Sitting on the front really was no trial with such natural assistance.
Although we have had the odd verge excursion due to tiredness and a forgetful overlapping of wheels, we have had no falls or really any sort of close call. Which is fantastic. A broken spoke on the 600 was a bit of a shock really, quite a loud bang quickly focussing my attention on the realisation that only 17 spokes in my Shimano front wheel were left to carry the load. This really did add another dimension to the 15 Km to Bicheno, the nearest town. Worry was relieved by the grateful receipt of a stranger’s front wheel – kindly offered to help keep us going. This one act of generosity really did contribute to the completion of the ride ( safely ) and reinforced that old adage that ‘ to win, your equipment must get you to the finish’. I guess 32 spokes and a few spares taped to the pump barrel will be the go from now on.
The only incident, besides the odd tool yelling abuse out of car windows ( funny how ‘buy a car’ is the best the current young crop can come up with – very Gen-Y ) has been the beer can incident – also on the 400. I was hit on the back by what I believe was an aluminium can thrown from a passing truck. Stupidly, I looked around to see what the projectile was – not realising at first that it had come from the cab of the truck. By the time I’d figured it out, the license plate was too blurry to read properly. I must admit that it was a pretty good throw from a vehicle travelling at about 80. Amazing that we weren’t hurt and disappointing that the Police were about five kilometres up the road and also didn’t see a thing.
Whether high or low, Craig’s efforts on the 300 in the face of the onset of heat exhaustion needs mentioning. I would lump this into both the high and low categories, because things felt pretty serious at about 170, with a roadside stop that required sitting on the ground – not usually a good sign. This run up the coast was made on a magically clear day, with temperatures reaching the low 30’s by the time we turned for home. Craig was already encrusted with salts by this stage, and I could actually see the perspiration flying horizontally from his brow in the strong cross-wind. Water and food in. A stop in Orford for more liquids and a proper recline on the leather couches of the local café, and then out into a cooler sea breeze for the final 80. Craig rode it out, completing a very gutsy ride - not wanting to delay the qualifying process. As the afternoon temperature dropped a bit and the liquids went in, he got better, and climbed Bust-Me-Gall slowly but defiantly. The deluge that greeted us for the final climb of the day refreshed and soaked us to the skin, but ensured that Craig made it home in more comfortable temperatures. The wet did teach us a thing about chafing, but I’ll leave that to your imaginations, as this is a family friendly web site.
High points ?
Spectacular sunsets on the 600.
Nestle ‘Space Food’ bars…
Quick and enjoyable local 200 loops.
Pringles at 11.30 pm…
Excellent company and sense of camaraderie.
A nice little link to our inspiration, Sir Hubert Opperman, by riding 400 from Hobart to Launceston and back to Hobart in one go – an eye opener because our day proved roughly 23 hours long, Oppy’s just 15 using a single speed on muddy gravel roads in the 1930’s.
Vanilla custard just straight in a bowl…
Not feeling completely deathly on the second morning of the 600 was also a nicer experience. The first time, I was nauseous and really not good, and grovelled all morning to the first proper stop in Longford. This second attempt on the same course seemed much better, with a good 4 hours sleep and reasonable spirits in the morning. Although a little feverish from an impending head cold I was refreshed somewhat and ready for the day, which was an excellent feeling of progression. Gav also managed his usual remarkable physical regeneration over night – having skipped half of dinner due to a rolling stomach and general tiredness. Gav rose on the Sunday morning, his usual chipper self and then proceed to ride strongly all day, seemingly without any after affect from the night before.
Coffee at the bakery in Longford…
Amazing generosity on both the 400 ride and 600, with the above-mentioned wheel swap and free hot chips form the Campbelltown Hotel on the return leg of the 400. Even after the kitchen had closed and they were packing up the dining room, the guys welcomed us in and served up piping hot ( and very welcome ) salty chips and then refused payment – wonderful.
Sleeping in ‘til noon after the 400 – something I haven’t done for over two years.
I think Gav is probably the stage racer amongst us. He seems to get better as the days progress. I’m a bit the opposite, just experiencing a gradual decline in performance, with only minor highlights as the body starts to break down. Craig seems even and strong. Its a little hard to tell at times just how he is going. On the flat there is just consistent pulling power which has helped enormously on each ride – to cover the miles easily and quickly.
Physically we are all visibly leaner – even me, which is something of an accomplishment - and now able to literally pedal all day and then on into the evening.
We are all now focussed on solid foods at milestone stops – plenty of salty hot chips have been consumed, in fact I think that these rides have become a bit of a salty hot chip tour, a food group normally banned in civilian life – but also kept our attention on proper electrolyte replacement ( see I told you that hot salty chips were key to our success ) and constant fluid intake. A camelback-type arrangement has proven invaluable for this, meaning go juice and plain water can be kept separate easily – with plenty of fresh water at hand to wash down a gel or sticky energy drink. Roadies who think that hydration packs should not be seen out on the road need to up their averages a little.
My overall impression of the riding is that we probably drive a little too hard on sections between stops, and have found it necessary to also keep break times to agreed minimums. It has been interesting to compare our own strategy ( not really a strategy, really a rough plan ) with other riders ( ok, actually only one other Tasmanian rider ). We do ride relatively quickly as a small group, five to ten minute turns usually – unless the wind is really strong ) turning 27-30 Km/Hr averages in some sectors. This is then spaced with stops to eat, fill pockets and ease sensitive backs. For P-B-P we will need to learn to control our efforts a little more, while keeping stops to an absolute minimum time – always the aim and much easier to say than actually do.
So many small lessons learned. Thankyou Gav and Craig. I certainly couldn’t have imagined getting this far on my own.
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