I wasn’t here, I was on the Easter Deadly Treadly Tour.
Ah, Bacchus Marsh. Every time I ride in here, something happens. The something usually involves a pin-headed yob and his mates, driving an old bomb of a car, and either screaming abuse or trying to run someone down. Today was no different, as a bunch of my friends rode down the hill into town, the local hero threw an egg at them from a car driving the other way.
I wasn’t here, I was on the Easter Deadly Treadly Tour.
An incredibly strong southerly was blowing constantly, all day long. The 42km were covered at an average of 14km/hr! At each possible stop we gratefully sheltered inside, out of the wind.
There was an amazing feeling of culture-shock riding into Daylesford after the last two days of almost deserted country roads and country towns. There was traffic everywhere, the streets full of people, it seemed like we were back in Melbourne.
I wasn’t here, I was on the Easter Deadly Treadly Tour.
Get up, drizzle, coffee, shower, put bags in car, drive to Alexander parade, drive home, get on bike, shiver down Swan Street, get off bike, put bike in truck, get in bus, try and sleep through the two hour trip to Beaufort.
58km. Alternating drizzle and sunshine. Finally a terrific tail wind into Clunes.
Clunes resembled the set of a western movie, sometime after the cast and crew have all gone home.
I just had to laugh. Cycling up Beach Road on a Sunday afternoon, literally hundreds of cyclists about, traffic is at a crawl due to the enormous number of events that are on. A red Ford Falcon (rego. ###-###) drives past in the right hand lane and the passenger sticks her head out the window, screaming her lungs out “Get off the F@#$ing road, get on the F@#$ing footpath!” If she yells that much at each cyclist between Mordialloc and St Kilda, she’ll be hoarse for a week!
08:45, somewhere around Glenn Iris a large Labrador is busy relieving itself on the edge of the path — yet another massive stinking dog turd to ride around. As I ride past the owner, strolling along six metres back, lead dangling from her hand, I say to the owner “Hope you’re going to clean that up.” Receive typical reply, “mind your own business.” Apparently large smelly piles of dog faeces on a shared path is not my business.
Day one of my enforced fitness regime, I don’t mind cycling to work, but it seems different when I know that I have to cycle to work because I can’t ride the motorbike.
Dark and gloomy as I left the building to ride home, the storm clouds grew thicker and closer as I rode along Gardiner’s Creek. Too dark for sunglasses, the little midges were so thick I had to keep my eyes half shut.
Ouch. I’m all stiff and sore from a collision on the bike track this morning; I came up behind the usual group of pedestrians blocking the path (as expected), I started to go around the last two on the right, as soon as they saw me they jumped in front of me (as half-expected), I swerved to the left off the path and onto the grass and too late saw the rider coming the other way who’d also swerved out onto the grass.
Yay! We finally rode a tandem.
After literally years of “getting around to it one day”, Joey and I rode down to Pegasus Cycles and took one of the hire bikes for a spin down to Blackrock. A KHS Alite, we both found it very upright compared to our existing bikes, and both missed having bar-ends and a speedo! There were a few shrieks from Jo, mostly due to my unannounced turns, or the sudden appearance of overhanging trees, intruding bushes, or the absolute no-no of tandem rides, the un-announced bump.
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2996.9 Laziness got the better of me and I failed to write in my journal, hoping that memory would suffice when it came time to write about where I’d been. Unfortunately the days turn to weeks, then to months, and there is never enough time… When it does come time to write, I find that all the little details have faded away…
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2996.9 We woke to a clear blue sky, all the rain having worn itself out in the evening and overnight, leaving us a cruisy day of riding as we headed towards the end of the trip.
Our internal clocks seem set perfectly, again we were out on the road at almost exactly 9 o’clock for the first experience of traffic in almost two weeks.
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2996.9 The intention had been to camp in the tents this evening, just out of Opotiki at a park on the beach, but the sight of ominimous black clouds induced Phil to book us into a motel for the night. I might have preferred the tent in the rain to the saggy old motel bed we ended up in, but Phil was determined to coddle his customers!
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2996.9 This morning the weather had cleared up again and the winds seemed to have dropped. There was a magnificent view from the headland overlooking Te Araroa Bay, unfortunately heavily overgrown with prickly gorse that had no problems in penetrating lycra and skin, and then sticking to us, so that when we got back on the bikes it could attack again.
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2512.5 The weather changed again and we crossed the hills heading north while being buffetted around by strong winds.
Around 2 pm we arrived in Te Araroa township, just as the drizzle started. Lunching at the only open shop we watched the waves crashing on the enormous mounds of timber washed up on the beaches — there is never a shortage of driftwood in the areas we visited, on the contrary, getting to the beach can often involve climbing over metre-high piles of timber from the forests.
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2512.5 Another hot day, probably around 32-33 °C, but we took our time, meandered along drinking lots of water. Later in the afternoon we rode past Hikurangi, a mountain sacred to the Maori.
Heading inland today, back into the farming area and to a town that seems to have an interesting, if mostly unknown, part in New Zealand’s recent history. During the mid-1980s, the region degenerated into a state of almost civil war, with land disputes resulting in Maori Rastafarian gangs fire-bombing buildings, violent fighting, and culminating in a public be-heading.
dst. (km) Today ??.? Trip total ??.? Odometer 2512.5 Tolaga Bay has one of the longest wharves in New Zealand, or the Southern hemisphere, or maybe its just the longest concrete wharf, or something… A major construction feat, it’s building signed its own death warrant — for the short period it was operational, it enabled ships to come in and load up with gravel for the construction of the coastal highway that put the shipping out of business.
dst. (km) Today 0.0 Trip total ??.? Odometer 2512.5 New Year’s Day, a lazy day of wandering around Gisborne in the 34 °C heat. Julianna decided that the tour wasn’t really what she was after and arranged to leave us here in Gisborne — it can’t be easy to be the third person to a couple on a tour like this, and at ten years younger, she found she wasn’t enjoying our company.
As we were leaving this morning we passed a familiar-looking cow at the side of the road, but thought nothing of it. Phil — driving out half an hour later — realised that it was the dairy cow that belonged to the farm and had escaped onto the road, so he stopped, caught it, and then managed to lead it several kilometres back to the gate. Judging by the way he looked at lunch time, he had the most energetic morning of us all!
We woke to grey skies and a howling wind — not very inviting weather for cycling. Breakfasted in Phil’s room then the four of us packed the bus and drove the 30 or 40km up from the lake and down over the ridge to the end of the gravel road. We stopped at the spillway to look at the view, but the wind was really funnelling in across the lake so nobody wanted to stay and look around for long.
We woke to a mostly clear sky. Sleeping in late and unpacking the bikes meant that we didn’t get away from Paengaroa until about 10:30 for the drive down to Rotorua.
Seventy or so photographs, two whole weeks — there’s a day-by-day account in my journal.
2001-Dec-28 Fri – Melbourne to Auckland to Paengaroa 2001-Dec-29 Sat – Murapara to Waikaremoana 2001-Dec-30 Sun – Waikaremoana to Glenn Innis Station 2001-Dec-31 Mon – Glenn Innis Station to Gisborne 2002-Jan-01 Tue – Gisborne 2002-Jan-02 Wed – Gisborne to Tolaga Bay 2002-Jan-03 Thu – Tolaga Bay to Ruatoria 2002-Jan-04 Fri – Ruatoria to Te Araroa 2002-Jan-05 Sat – Te Araroa to Maraehako Bay 2002-Jan-06 Sun – Maraehako Bay to Opotiki 2002-Jan-07 Mon – Opotiki to Whakatane 2002-Jan-08 Tue – Whakatane to Paengaroa 2002-Jan-09 Wed – Paengaroa to Auckland to Melbourne Jo and Julianna and the Scenic Routes van Our plane for the flight home References http://www.
“Beef or Chicken?” the hostess asked me on the plane…
With apologies to Mick Thomas. The airline staff were handing out the meals, Jo looked at me, smirked and uttered the line, then, as I nearly doubled up with suppressed laughter, the large, walrus-moustached hostie repeated it.
A midnight landing at Auckland, two staff to process 400 passengers through imigration.
A call for Duke and Tritschler to go to the baggage desk — but it was only a book that someone else had left in the plane near our seats.
So many car doors, so few motorists with brains.
There we were, riding up Swan street on the way home. Suddenly Jo yells out “lookout,” I scream out “Door!” Yep, both passengers in the taxi (Victorian registration M-####) had decided that sitting in the lane of stationary traffic was enough, so without indicating, pulling over to the side of the road, or obeying any other form of road laws, they’d just thrown open both left-hand doors and got out.
A first apparently, a motorist in Chicago who deliberately ran down and killed a cyclist has been charged with murder. It’ll set a precedent, and in one way I’m pleased with the verdict, but it sure is disturbing reading about the case … especially knowing the number of times I’ve exchanged words with motorists after they either try to “scare me” by going a little close, or just don’t look and don’t care.
Every day the “shared path” that I ride along brings new and interesting challenges. Somedays its the dogs, other days the ankle deep mud, today, an aggressive pedestrian.
Walking towards me on the wrong side of the path, eyes on his feet, shirt and suit jacket unbuttoned, tie half-undone, two large armfulls of parcels, he nearly walked into me as I stopped on the bridge. I couldn’t get around him so I just stood there.
Cycled to work and guess what, another driver tried to flatten me where the cycle path crosses Malvern road. I’m getting sick of this sequence. Stop, wait, light goes orange, wait, light goes red, wait, cycle path light goes green, start to ride across intersection, stop and scream abuse as maroon Commodore, Vic. ###-### drives straight through the red without slowing down.
A miracle! The pothole on Gardiner road near the Nott has been filled in. That pothole has been a feature of my trip to Monash for the last five years, I can remember being driven through it on my way to a job interview here in April 1996!
Housing Now this could be a bizarre house moving experience, potentially the world’s shortest. Joey and I went to look at flat number two, next door, and decided that it looks pretty good. Just like number one — only twice as big — and not twice as expensive!
Cycling Norky bike was ready for collection from the shop, Freedom Machine, revitalised after its sojourn in foreign places.
UK and France: Six weeks riding around the UK and France.
dst. (km) Today 110.0 Trip total 3159.8 Today’s distance estimated.
Oooh, Guinness hangover.
Too little sleep, too little food, and too much Guinness. After a quick breakfast and goodbyes to Andy, I felt terrible for the first hour this morning back on the bike. A few pastries at a bakery seemed to fix things up a touch, from then on it was just a long day of riding, made more than a little frustrating by the maze of roads and villages that make up Surrey.
Thoughts on Lille — for the first time in France I seem to have seen lots of beggars and homeless people. Maybe it’s just the first time I’ve been in a big city, maybe I just haven’t noticed. Two-star hotels, kebab shops and sex shops. Maybe I should have tried to move further away from the train station.
A big bustling city, certainly lots of construction around the two stations. French police uniforms suddenly struck me as appearing very functional, Australian and British appearing more symbolic by comparison.
Rain, more rain, then a little more rain. A fine day to be leaving the mountains.
Amazingly, we all managed to get up in time for the 8 am start, crammed everything and everyone into the van and the car and drove to Grenoble. A bizarre feeling sitting in a car and watching the world go past without having to pedal. Almost as bizarre was listening to The House of the Rising Sun playing on the radio … in French.
dst. (km) Today 39.3 Trip total 3159.8 Odometer 85.2 We left Vaujany around 10:00 to ride up to l’Alpe d’Huez. Some chose the route via Bourg d’Oisans and the main climb, the rest of us headed up to Villard Reculas and then around the side of the mountain to Huez. The unfenced vertiginous drop off the side of the road was too much for some, Richard flat out refused to ride on the right hand side and sidled along the wrong side of the road, hugging the rock walls.
dst. (km) Today 45.01 Trip total 3120.5 Odometer 45.0 The pizza last night for dinner was a very bad idea. It stayed in me about an hour. The stomach pains and poor sleep lasted the whole of the rest of the night. This morning I feel a little better, but very weak, not having eaten much for the last two days.
On the plus side, it has stopped raining and the fog looks like it might clear up.
dst. (km) Today 0.0 Trip total 3075.5 Odometer 179.8 I wasn’t feeling well this morning and slept in quite late. There were assorted bad dreams, I nearly fell out of bed a couple of times, and I’m still feeling quite bloated from the meal last night. Skipped breakfast and stayed in bed, watching the rain.
Around 10.30 am I walked up the street to see what all the noise was about that had finally woken me up.
dst. (km) Today 61.67 Trip total ?? Odometer 145.4 Where? Les Egats, Valbonnais, Le Périer, Chantelouve, Col d’Ornon (1371m), Borg d’Oisans, l’Alpe d’Huez(45.1,6.0666667).
dst. (km) Today 83.6 Trip total ?? Odometer 83.6 Where? Menglon(44.6666667,5.4666667), Chatillon en Diois, Menee, Les Nonières, Col de Menée (1402m), Bellegarde, Clelles, Mens, Col de Accarias (892m), St Jean d’Hérans(44.85,5.7666667), Les Egats
dst. (km) Today 0.0 Trip total ?? Odometer 0.0 Bloody cheap bike computers! The stupid thing completely reset itself today.
Where? Vaison la Romaine(44.2333333,5.0666667) Mirabel, Les Pilles, Sahune, Remuzat, Cornillon, La Motte, La Charce, Establet, Col de Prémus (903m), Jonchères, Luc en Diois, Luzeron, Menglon(44.6666667,5.4666667)
dst. (km) Today 97.69 Trip total ?? Odometer 2790.1 Somewhere along the descents my bike computer stopped reading anything. I was too busy to readjust it at the time!
Where? Avignon(43.95,4.8166667) Parnes, Carpentras, Bédoin, Mont Ventoux (1912m), Vaison la Romaine(44.2333333,5.0666667)
dst. (km) Today 75.3 Trip total ?? Odometer 2585.1 Where? Florac(44.75,3.75), Col de Faisses (1020m), L’Hospitalet, Le Pompidou, St Roman de aTousque, Col de l’Exil (704m), Col de St Pierre (597m), St Jean du Gard
dst. (km) Today 105.8 Trip total ?? Odometer 2509.8 Packed up this morning in drizzling rain. Everything is damp. Everything smells.
Where? St Geniez d’Olt(44.4666667,2.9833333) St Saturnin, Col de Lagarde (810m), Altes, Massegros, St Rome de Dolan, La Malène, Pounadoires, St Enimie, Prades, Blajoux, Le Chembonnet, Ispagnac, Florac(44.75,3.75)
dst. (km) Today 91.4 Trip total ?? Odometer 2404.0 Where? Conques(44.6,2.4) Grand Vabre, St Projet, Viellevie, Entraygues, Estaing, Espalion, St Come d’Olt, Lassouots, Ste Eulalie d’Olt, St Geniez d’Olt(44.4666667,2.9833333)
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.
