stats. Today 71.84km Trip total 190km
A quarter to six in the morning and Debbie’s mellifluous tones bellowing out woke us all. There is a distinct difference of opinion between various groups as to whether these are necessary or not — some people seem incapable of waking and organising themselves and need to be woken while it is still dark, others quite happily get up later, then pack and eat with no outside assistance. The first group seem to need alarm clocks set for 4.30 am and megaphones, and will complain most vigorously when woken by people returning from the pub at midnight, but think nothing of chatting jovially and rustling bags well before the sun is up.
Ron and I ignored the noises for as long as possible, then stuck our heads out of our respective tents at around seven. It was still dark, the stars were still out, but all around us people had packed, and the queue for breakfast stretched all the way from the marquees back to our tents — the opposite end of the football oval! The obvious solution was to go back to bed for another twenty minutes.
Revenge, however, was sweet. As we sat and ate our breakfast, all the people who had rushed to pack up and be the first on the road were held up for half an hour as the police decided not to open the route while there was still thick fog.
The ride zigzagged around the Southern Highlands, calling in at Robertson for morning tea and Fitzroy Falls for lunch. Unlike the last time that we were here, however, the sun was out and neither of these places was under water! Dr Alan, Jeff and myself rode together for most of the day, sometimes being joined for a kilometer or so by others.
Later in the ride we were joined by a rather terrifying individual. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t seem to ride in a straight line nor keep a constant pace, and all the time that he had his hands on the tri-bars I kept thinking of Evan’s crash in January when someone he didn’t know managed to fall off straight in front of him in a pack. The guy’s riding style got more and more annoying, and downright dangerous at times, so for the last 15km into Bundanoon we all just refused to ride near him, either speeding well up or slowing right down to get away. He still wouldn’t say anything though, not even in response to a direct question…
Bundanoon seemed the opposite of Bowral though, the pub was warm and friendly, as was the rest of the town. The only unfortunate aspect was that the town swimming pool — advertised by Bicycle NSW in the ride guide as being on the campground. It is on the campground, unfortunately it had been emptied by the council, apparently because they always empty it at this time of year — the arrival of a thousand cyclists couldn’t convince them to keep it open for an extra week!
Where?
Bowral(-34.4666667,150.4166667), Bundanoon(-34.65,150.3),
