stats. Today ??km Trip km Breakfast, finish packing, put the bags in the car and drive down to Alexandra parade to the start of yet another Deadly Treadly… somewhere along the way Jo asks whether I’ve checked that we really are starting from the same place as all the previous rides! We are, and about a hundred people have shown up, quite a few more than the last couple of times.
Last day of my holiday. Two weeks seems such a long time when it involves an escape like the bike trip. My paper journal is full of empty pages from last week, but that never seems to work, I either leave too much or too little space, or I just don’t get around to revisiting the days — time just keeps flowing forwards. At least the electronic one doesn’t get its pages wet or have problems with cheap paper and felt-tipped pens — on the other hand, I don’t think a handheld PC would have stood up to last week’s deluge!
Back in Melbourne, miserable weather and all! Somewhere around Seymour the sun came up on a dull grey sky. Cloud turned to drizzle turned to rain — welcome home to Victoria! Somehow the train managed to run an hour late, I tried to call Jo to let her know, no luck, there’s mobile phone coverage for people driving up the Hume highway, but none for those in the trains.
stats. Today 0km Trip 188km Things continue to improve. Its a sunny day, breakfast at a reasonable hour. A visit to a laundromat and a coffee in Beaumont street. Definitely an improvement.
In the afternoon Ron and I trundled into town on Big Bertha for a beer at the waterfront brewery, then along the sea-wall to the lighthouse, and around the point. Eventually we ran out of path and Ron tried to take the flexy old tandem over a skate-ramp, but sanity prevailed and he pulled out at the last moment.
stats. Today 73km Trip 188km Stuff-ups and more stuff-ups! Up at 4 am as the cooks got up and started to prepare breakfast. A quick pack up and dress, then down to the showground in the mill owners 4WD. Put the bags down in a corner where we could see them and started on the bikes, preparing and loading them into the trucks. Within minutes the sheep-like hordes had dumped bags on our bags and buried the lot.
stats. Today 5km Trip 117km There was little to do all day except walk around town and look at the floods. Some of our more quick-witted friends ignored the BNSW organisers, arranged to have their bags taken in a van, and rode the 100+ km straight down the highway to Newcastle. Others, who had friends in the area, arranged to be picked up and taken there in cars. The rest of us sat around wondering what miracle of logistics was going to occur that would take over a thousand wet and pissed off cyclists, their luggage and their bikes, away from the flooded back roads, and over a hundred and twenty kilometres to get them back on the planned route.
stats. Today 36km Trip 112km Breakfast took longer than anticipated, the weather saw to that. Ominous dark clouds threatened while some chose to pack up before eating, others chose to eat first and pack later. I was one of the latter group, not only had I not packed up, but I was only just joining the queue as the downpour began and put a delay in the proceedings. The sudden deluge caught me between toilets and breakfast so I huddled under shelter to wait it out, then managed to grab some food, eat and pack in hurry all while not getting too wet.
stats. Today 74km Trip 76km Either the beer or the travelling had produced a killer headache, tend to think it was the latter since I always seem to end up with a stiff neck and a headache after sleeping in buses and trains.
Steamy and humid all morning, then a bit of a cooler change after the lunch stop. For the first half of the day I rode by myself, trying to shake off the headache and in no mood for company.
stats. Today 2km Trip 2km A foggy morning in the Southern Highlands as it became light enough to see from the train, then a seven o’clock arrival at Strathfield for 07.30 departure on the North Coast XPT. Homeward-bound ferals everywhere on the platform, chuffing away on joints and bongs, oblivious to the “No Smoking” signs, but no more oblivious than the rest of the population with their cigarettes.
While waiting I sat and chatted to three other people destined for Gloucester, travelling with a Bike Friday tandem and a Birdie — two folding bikes that become more and more appealing every time I travel and have to go through the hassles of boxing a bike and transporting the box…
stats. Today 0.0km Trip 0.0km Seems strange having a day or two holiday before I go away on a bike trip. Usually I’ve finished work one day, gone home, packed up, got to whatever transport is required, got to the start and got on my way… it all seems very relaxed this time!
Tried — and eventually succeeded — in getting Telstra to change over the phone numbers from my old SIM to my new one.
Interesting discussions going on in <aus.bicycle> at the moment, even though I don’t really have access to a news server to follow it. Seems that police turned out in large numbers for last Saturday’s “Hell Ride” and some of their behaviour bordered on harrassment and entrapment. Multiple police cars and motorbikes followed beside and behind the ride, officers leaning out of car windows taking photos of any and every rider who crossed into the middle lane, motorcycle cops shooting off ahead to push the pedestrian walk button at each set of lights, then trying to catch riders ignoring the red light!
Another day out riding, another stupid driver goes screaming around me and turns left, missing my elbow by fractions of an inch and screeching around the corner to get in ahead of the traffic coming off the lights on Waverley road. Guilty-looking woman in a 4WD, (Victorian registration, ######), I guess at least she looked back in the rear mirror to see if she’d killed anyone…
Which reminds me that Mr Policeman didn’t ever call me back to follow up on the road-rage that I reported.
Yesterday’s events must have shaken me a little more than I realised. Couldn’t get to sleep until well after 2 am, being chased by a nutter in a car kept replaying over and over in my head.
But so far so good… One successful pass along Cole crescent this morning without running into yesterday’s road rager. I still can’t make up my mind whether to try and pursue it with the police.
Today was going so well until I turned right from the bike path into Drummond street in Chadstone, a 50km/hr zone, and was riding towards my normal left-turn into Cole crescent. As I got to the corner, Mr agressive petrol-head in a white ford falcon station wagon (Victorian registration ###-###), came flying over the speed hump behind me, half overtook me then attempted to go screaming around the left turn into Cole crescent.
Ouch — another head-on on the bike path this morning, but thankfully it wasn’t me. One of the guys that I see fairly frequently in the mornings heading the other way, today he wasn’t heading anywhere, just lying on the ground while two other cyclists phoned for an ambulance. Same stretch of narrow bridge with steel railings under the freeway where I’ve had a few close calls and one elbow to the head…
Further in the Bicycle NSW saga — I finally received a response to my enquiries, but it seems that Bicycle NSW have no idea of the reality of attempting to travel by public transport with a bike in Sydney. “Just catch a station wagon taxi from the airport.” I politely pointed out that the combination of the LPG tank and the steel luggage safety mesh prevents a bike from fitting into the station wagons, gave up on their transport entirely, and booked a seat on the train direct to Gloucester!
Attempting to find out some more details on Bicycle NSW’s Big Ride; details like when the bus transport from Sydney to the start leaves, where it leaves from, and how on earth someone from interstate is meant to get themselves, their bike and their baggage to this place. They haven’t answered email enquiries so I rang. Fun and games — the bus leaves at 06:00 in the morning — so a night’s accommodation is required — and from somewhere that has no public transport access!
The costs of the bike collision keep creeping up… Investigating why my seat was still wobbling, I found that the bolts aren’t loose — the whole top of the seatpost has cracked, and only about 10% of the metal was holding it together! I’ve lost track of when I bought it, but I think it was sometime in late 2002. So much for the Sonic brand seatpost.
Initially I thought there was no damage to the bike, unfortunately there’s a lot of things to check, and shock doesn’t help.
I think my bicycle has ears — or something. Half way to work this morning I met a girl walking along, pushing her bike. It was a scruffy old town bike, one of the pedals had sheered off at the crank, so she was walking home. I mentioned that there was an old-style bike shop in Oakleigh, the kind of place where the owner was likely to have a box of old pedals and could make a cheap repair.
One less bike in the house — the “Colnago” from the other day has gone to a new home at the Salvation Army’s recycling centre. To be sold for $20 or so and make someone happy, I hope… On the way I dropped in to Ray’s shop to show him the find — he was especially impressed by the paint-job over the top of the brake cables.
Riding up the street it occurred to me that the bike would make an ideal pub bike, if only we had a shed to keep it in, but sadly, it had to go to clear up the front room.
Just like the last big storm, after yesterday, today the bike track was ankle deep in slimy mud and washed-away mulch from the gardens — and the council had only just finished replacing the last lot!
Today was the Audax Alpine Classic, a very long day on the bike! Probably the longest, hardest ride that I can remember ever doing. Two hundred kilometres of alpine Victoria, starting in Bright, over Towonga gap, up to Falls Creek, back down and over Towonga Gap again, back to Bright, then up Mount Buffalo and back!
With far too little training I was in a woeful state by the time I got to climb Towonga Gap for the second time — after starting in the cool of the morning, the heat and flies were driving me crazy, and I was climbing the hill at a miserable 9km/hr.
Damn, it happened again! After having to avoid almost an idiot a week on the bike path, finally one managed to ram head-on into me. I flew spinning off the bike, landed flat on my back onto the path, landing on one shoulder and feel it pop out then back in, then rolled onto the other, dislocating it as well. Managed to grab my shoulder and pull as I sat up, so it went thump back into place — painfully.
An old Colnago road bike? Dumped at the side of the road? Maybe, maybe not… It was covered in dirt, the tyres were old and cracked and flat, ancient Suntour ten-speed derailleur. Obviously stolen and dumped… but maybe stolen a long time ago! On closer inspection the mystery deepens; firstly, the Colnago stickers don’t look quite right, they’ve faded and aren’t square on the frame, it also seems to weigh a ton.
Out of bed early for another bike ride — seven o’clock start from Evan’s house for a loop out to Kinglake and back. Somewhere on the road to Bundoora I ran over a large metal staple on the road — the kind that holds cardboard boxes together — and punctured my rear tyre.
There seemed to be a lot of cyclists out on the roads, Evan and I wondered how many of them were training for the Alpine Classic.
stats. Odometer 14608km Distance 33.9km Late in the afternoon I headed out for a little ride to stretch my legs, thinking I’d have a bit of a spin up the Dean’s Marsh road and try to beat a time of 30 minutes for the climb to Benwerrin. Coasting down from the house the turn-off is hardly a warm-up, but better than nothing I guess. Stood up almost the whole way, trying to pace myself, but ride quickly.
stats. Distance 197.5km Odometer 14574 Riding time 7hr 42’ Richmond to Lorne; all day on the bike. 08:40 left home; 09:40 at Mordialloc — courtesy of a group ride with Hilton, Chris, Frank, Joe, a few other Deadly Treadly people and two Ironmen/Triathlon guys out for a spin. 10:40 arrive at Mornington, lots of people everywhere, a ten minute break and a chocolate croissant for elevenses.
Back on the bike and along the coast with increasing traffic.
stats. Distance 68.31km Last chance for a bike ride for the year — “Let’s go for an easy ride down to Mordialloc,” says Evan. Yeah, right. He’s been up at 6 am every day for the past three months, clocking up 300km a week and getting faster and faster… I’ve just been sitting around or riding to work! A hot and tiring 68.3km by the time I got home, that would be, um, err… 8,520km for the 2003 calendar year, not counting rides when I didn’t have my odometer with me, or was on another bike, or it just wasn’t working.
Up and out of bed early today — well, early for me! After a few too many weekends where I’ve managed to justify staying at home, or sleeping in, or not going riding, I think it’s finally time that I really did get out on my bike and train for the Alpine Classic! Relying on native ability just isn’t going to work for 200km of mountain climbs!
The Duke/Myers family barbecue at Shoreham provided the impetus, all I needed to do was ride down there and join them for lunch.
An early start to the day — finally I’ve been convinced that I really do need to train for the Alpine Classic — that day-to-day rides to and from work just aren’t likely to be enough preparation! Six o’clock wake up, breakfast and wait… and wait… and wait some more. The phone rings; Kelvin has had another puncture — of course — and so they’ll be a little late to pick me up. I sat around outside watching and listening to the morning’s bird-life, spotting a butcher bird that I’d never seen before on the neighbour’s roof.
The creek is back down, the heron was back on his rock this morning — I wonder where he went during the flood? The river is still turgid, brown and full of drifting objects. Driftwood everywhere, the stink of mud in the air.
To the driver and passenger of the electrician’s white van, Victorian registration QXC-557, just what is it that makes you want to yell abuse at cyclists as you pass on the road? Is it the feeling of power and invulnerability as you speed past, anonymous, except for the foot-high letters advertising your employer’s company? Is it the knowledge that you can outrun the abused/intimidated cyclist, or is it some mistaken belief that if I can’t retaliate at the time, that I won’t be able to record your details, your company name, your phone number, your registration number, and retaliate later…
A minor crisis in the bicycle storage facility — the new toy arrives at its new home… Half of it is my birthday present from Jo, half her birthday present from me. A brand-new second-hand Trek T-50 tandem. Three or four weeks since we first saw it, about a fortnight since we decided to buy it, but only this weekend have we finally had time to get down to Peter’s shop in Brighton and pick it up — after a little nagging, mostly because they want the shop space back!
Someone has decided to start trying to log the mobile-phone users and send an email direct to the top — Andre — or Police Minister Andre Haermeyer, if you want to give him his official title.
Andre has a mobile phone driver reporting page. You can find it at http://www.ratbagitinerant.com/cm/phones.html
Reg says: Dob in a drongo driver!
Just the one? As the sign says “Wipe off five". This evening’s mild entertainment came from:
stats. Today 91.5km Trip 257.0km Final day of the ride, best weather so far! Sticking my head out of the tent at around 6.30 am there was not a breath of wind, the sun was rising and the bay was as flat as a mirror. We left Rye around 10 am, in bright sunshine, but with a chill still in the air.
It always amazes me how much traffic there is on the stretch of road between Sorrento and Mornington, I guess to my subconscious the road doesn’t seem to go anywhere, it just ends at the heads, so where do all the cars come from?
Vanity site? Technology experiment? Learning tool? Blog? Journal? Diary? Photo album? I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you…
I experiment. I play. I write and I take pictures. Some of the site is organised around topics, other parts are organized by date, then there’s always the cross-references between them.
Its all been here a fairly long time. Like the papers on my desk, or the books on the bedside table, the pile just grew… and it all grew without much plan or structure. I try not to break URLs, so historical oddities abound.
Long ago it started as a learning experiment with a few static HTML pages, then I added a bit of server-side includes and some very ugly PHP. A hand-built journal/blog on top of that PHP, then a few experiments in moving to various static publishing systems. I’ve never wanted a database-based blogging engine, so over the years I’ve tried PHP, nanoblogger, emacs-muse, silkpage and docbook before settling on Emacs Org mode for writing and jekyll for publishing. But the itch remained… I never really liked jekyll and the ruby underneath always seemed so much black magic. So now the latest incarnation is Org mode and hugo.
![Journal for [2003-12-07 Sun]](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52444982144_4f50f0e95e_c.jpg)
