400

Here is a little fiction, concocted as a summary of the details contained within the Mercury write up - If you haven't read all of the pages attached previously.


A bit dense but, as you might appreciate, 1930's images are not that easy to come by...

August in Hobart is typically cool and wet, and on the evening of the third, 1930, conditions are to be as expected.  Only months before in May, Malvern Star officially opened its first agency in Hobart. Now, in order to emphasise the brand image, their young star professional is waiting calmly on the stone steps of the GPO for starters orders.  Wrapped in an itchy woollen dressing gown to keep out the very early morning chill, Oppy knows well the route he is to follow over the next 15 hours.  Appearing regularly in Tasmania since 1922, he has triumphant recollections of the course ahead.  At the tender age of 18 his first great success as a professional was forged over these same roads, fastest time and equal third in the one of Australia’s premier scratch races, Launceston to Hobart.  200 Km of rutted gravel, flattened on a fixed gear Malvern Star.  Two years later, outright victory was clinched by this growing talent with a solo win over much the same roads.

Following his first strong showing in Tasmania, Oppy had been portrayed in the local press as a ‘wonderful lad’, ‘spare and slim’, ‘good humoured’ and humble in his successes.  Now, with nine professional seasons, many remarkable motor-paced records, European road racing success, victory in the prestigious Bol d’Or 24hr event, a Tour De France appearance, and numerous Australian distance records in his legs, Oppy’s 1930 road season in Australia was just reaching a climax.  This record attempt would prove excellent preparation for the upcoming three day Tour of Tasmania ( which he would snatch from visiting French rivals in dramatic style on the last day ) and lead nicely into the Tasmanian Christmas carnivals to sharpen his leg speed prior to embarking on another European campaign.  1931 would see only the third Australasian assault on the Tour de France since the race’s inception in 1903, to be ridden in preparation for Oppy’s ultimate aim, Paris-Brest-Paris in August that year. 

This day’s ride would prove a mere warm up compared to exploits ahead, a record attempt timed to capitalise on good form and to generate valuable local publicity for his supporter and mentor Bruce Small.  Starting from Hobart, Oppy and Bruce’s plan was to set a new distance record for 400 Km, running North to Launceston and then returning immediately along the same path.  Trusting to his Tour de France model road bike, featuring a reversible rear wheel with a clutch ratio each side ( in a era when fixed gear was still regulation for road racing in some States ), front and rear brakes, and Hutchinson singles, Oppy smiled warmly at supporters, checked a handlebar mounted bidon, and with a wave of the hand prepared to embark.

Amidst several hundred gathered enthusiasts and well wishers, Oppy slipped into the saddle to set off at precisely six minutes past two, following one hundred metres behind a motorcycle scout, and trailed by support cars and officials.  In the early morning darkness the car’s headlights defined a vital though slightly wandering path for him to follow.  Oppy carried no bar or helmet mounted lighting, just a light cotton cap to keep the drizzle out of his eyes, while a dark blue jersey and white woollen tights over legs ward off the cold.  The bitumen main road North permits high early average speeds toward what was then the Tasman Bridge, ( but is now known as the Bridgewater Bridge - the oldest operating lift-section bridge in the Southern Hemisphere ).  Having crossed the river Derwent and dropped off the end of the smooth tarmac surface, Oppy rose from the saddle for the first of many climbs to the small township of Kempton. 

Between Kempton and Melton rapid progress halts abruptly, half way into the second hour of riding, with a rear wheel puncture.  Repaired quickly via a wheel swap afforded by convenient wing-nuts and support car, Oppy calmly set off again into the gloom, 160 still to cover to Launceston. 

Oppy had reached Campbelltown by 6.57 am, just over 100 Km in five hours of riding.  The conditions were proving almost the exact opposite of our own, with the exception of a shared buffeting headwind.   Recent rains that year had turned much of the highway into a rutted, muddy line through fields of standing water.  Now, under increasingly showery conditions, a decision to turn from the highway toward Evandale, just South of Perth, in the hopes of finding better conditions had proven a misjudgement.  The road surfaces were so churned up and slippery that both rider and following cars had some difficulty in staying upright and on the road.  Finally onto the concrete main drag into Launceston and a mud splattered Oppy worked quickly through the industrious outskirts of the city to the GPO and turning point.  Seven hours and ten minutes from Hobart.  Thirteen minutes ahead of his planned schedule.   Having savoured a momentary soak in a hot tub, received a quick rub down, completely changed his attire and eaten, his machine had its chain cleaned and gear ratio reduced to seventy inches from seventy-two due to the heavy conditions.  With preparations complete, away he went again bouyed by a rousing cheer from a large crowd gathered along Brisbane St in the city centre.

Finally running with the wind on his return journey must have felt fantastic to Oppy as he picked his line amongst the slop and wheel ruts.   Campbelltown came up for Oppy at 12.12 under sunny conditions, much improved from earlier in the day.

From the milestone of Campbelltown dismay began again to creep into Oppy’s thoughts as he felt the first constricting grips of a stomach complaint, requiring several stops along the verge.  During one of these pauses his rear tyre was again changed, this time for a lighter pattern, and the scout motorcycle was dispatched toward Oatlands and the local chemist in search of a remedy.  With a potion readily ingested on the move, Oppy’s colour and spirits seemed to return, and once again his legs started to find a rhythm on the gear.  Oatlands appeared quickly and the plucky champion was greeted by a large and vocal crowd of supporters who cheered encouragement while he drank a specially prepared bowl of steaming broth.  Just 50 miles from home, and with renewed spirits, Oppy left Oatlands trailed by a couple of local cycling enthusiasts and then bent to the task of climbing the series of rollers that characterise the run into Hobart.  With the end nearing, Oppy’s redoubled efforts translated into average speeds quicker than at any time on the ride, traversing the upward slopes of Spring and Constitution Hill without pause and skilfully descending the rutted slopes beyond.  Hitting speeds of 30MPH on the gravelled grades focussed Oppy’s attention more than at any other point in the ride, but at the same time refreshed the tired rider, no doubt with a surge of adrenalin.  With renewed vigour, the little township of Bagdad was reached by 3.40 in the afternoon without further incident.

We would ( thankfully ) miss the climbs of Constitution and Spring hill on our route, but with those grades now behind him Oppy was to be surprised and amazed by the support that greeted his final efforts in the run to the city centre.  As he passed the communities of Pontville and into Brighton a police motorcycle escort fell in alongside the forward scout to create a rolling closed road.  In his wake riders and motorist joined in behind the speeding cyclist, forming a vocal and supportive procession.  Afternoon football matches along the route were temporarily suspended so that spectators and players alike could line the roadside to offer their support and encouragement.  Excitement reached such a fever pitch at one point that the official cars found themselves competing with impetuous motorists who made attempts to push past the convoy to drive alongside the rider, causing a number of minor collisions.  Enthusiastic followers on bicycles threw caution to the wind in their excitement, instigating a number of falls and pileups in their attempts to race alongside Oppy in the closing miles through the City’s outer suburbs.   For mile after mile local residents lined the main road cheering and offering their encouragement. 

Cruising swiftly amidst this chaos and noise, with barely a gap in the road-side crowd from the outer suburb of Berridale to the city centre ( 10 Km ), Oppy pushed onwards toward the GPO, the start and end point for his ordeal.   Arriving a 5.14pm and some seconds, just over fifteen hours after departing, the record was firmly his by a margin of almost two hours.  The record ride now over, Oppy then rolled gently to the nearby North Hobart oval, unwinding his tensed muscles, to circle the grounds for a standing ovation from a capacity crowd of onlookers.  Presented with a modest silver cup for his efforts, Oppy noted simply his thanks for the support and kindness extended to him throughout his effort, appreciating the enthusiasm displayed by the locals and their obvious appreciation of cycling endeavour.