The herniated front tyre
With only a few minutes to go before I was due to leave to meet the rest of the riders it was hard for me not to be a little alarmed. As I looked down on my bike the ominous bulge in my front tyre appeared to be some presentiment of forthcoming disaster. Even worse, with no spare tyre and no hope of any obvious method of repair, I had no alternative other than to pump it up and hope that it would last just one more transit of the trail. After all, this same tyre had successfully travelled the Warby Trail for thousands of km, why did it have to choose today to stage such a spectacular tubular aneurism ? Not only was the tyre herniated outwards, but viewed from above
|
The herniated front tyre |
it also displayed a spectacular "S-Bend" type deviation. I began to fear that my day's ride might also have been swept down the proverbial "S bend" as well.
In spite of the less than perfect start to the ride, the other indicators were all good. With a weather forecast of 29C and the prospects of a good attendance I had been really looking forward to today's ride. Not only would it be our first ride of 2004, but it would also be our first ride in our new jerseys on our home trail. I pictured 8 or 9 riders in their striking fluoro tops sweeping along the trail in triumph while other (lesser) riders pulled aside in awe to allow us unrestricted passage along the trail. "There goes the legendary Ghost Riders", mothers would be telling their young children.
I tried to dismiss the thoughts of my herniated tyre and head off with my mind full of positive images instead. As I arrived at the start of the trail at Lilydale I could see that I was the first there. That gave me yet another chance to examine the problem tyre. I decided that if I first deflated it and reinflated it, maybe the bulge would miraculously disappear - it didn't work. I finally decided to inflate it about 15 psi less than normal and hope that I would not get a pinch flat.
A few minutes later "Legs" Warren and "Crasher" Lewis arrived ready for the start. Bob took one look at my tyre and thoughtfully predicted that it would "almost certainly burst and cause me to crash". I thanked him for his encouragement and rotated the bulge to the bottom of the wheel where it would cause less harm (and be less obvious to other "experts").
Ross eventually turned up about 15 minutes late and soon we were off up the trail, trying to make up for lost time. At least on the rough surface I could not feel the bump of the tyre bulge, and my faith in the god of rubber (I think he's called "VULCAN") started to grow stronger.
I had previously been notified that John and Warren would be meeting us further down the trail, along with Dennis Shepherd, so we could expect a peloton of at least 7 riders.With the brand new jerseys proudly on our backs we could all feel the extra flow of energy that came with belonging to such an esteemed group of sportsmen. Man the miles just seemed to flow by as we swept down the hill from Wandin and through Killara station. A brief stop at Woori Yallock to refill our bladders and off we went again.
A short distance further on we met up with Dennis Shepherd who had ridden down the trail from Launching Place to join us. He looked us up and down and we soon recognised that obscure psychological disorder known by the experts as "jersey envy".
As we started to head up towards the Launching Place Pub we caught a glimpse of three riders in the distance. Although one appeared to be wearing the unmistakable Warby Ghost Riders club colours, the others could not be identified. We increased our pace slightly and eventually overhauled them near the traffic lights. They turned out to be "Spanner" Billson (in correct attire) and John "why do we do this" Seamons (not in uniform). Warren was also accompanied by one of his sons - Steve.
Peter (aka "Legs") was so distracted that he forgot to decleat at the traffic lights and managed to stage a rather undignified pas de deux with his bicycle by the side of the highway. When he finally regained control he looked up casually and pretended that the whole episode had been planned that way.
When John was asked why he was out of uniform he replied that "his wife had not washed his jersey since last weekend". (When Joy was later questioned about this she replied that "It's about time that John learned to blow his own nose"). John did, however demonstrate his latest method of bringing the name of the Ghost Riders into disrepute. He had mounted his 1928 Klaxon horn (along with huge 12V battery) on his bike, and wasted no time in showing us how loud it was. Each time he sounded it off I got the mental picture of an elderly hippopotamus trying to clear its congested bronchial tubes. Maybe it was just as well he wasn't wearing his official jersey after all.
Now swollen to 8 riders we rode on with some degree of pride up the back roads around Yarra Junction and onto the final section of the trail up to Milgrove. The trail was relatively crowded with dozens of other riders and family groups out for a day on their bikes. As we proceeded to pass one such group and were temporarily slowed by a female rider in front, I clearly heard a voice from her riding companion (also female) saying "Watch out Jenny, the Ghost Riders are behind you". With such fame also comes great responsibility so I politely said "Thank You" as I rode past with my shoulders back and my stomach held in.
By 1 pm we had all safely arrived at Warburton. By this time I had (almost) forgotten about my prolapsed tyre, but was happy to see that it appeared no worse than it had at the start. A more serious problem arose when we discovered (to our horror) that our familiar watering hole (aka Valley Bakery & Coffee Shop) was closed, along with all the other alternative shops in the main street. With hundreds of day trippers clogging the town, why would they choose such a silly time to close their doors?
 |
Lunch by the river with support staff |
A few of us gathered by the river while the support crew went in search of sustenance. Fortunately they did eventually find a cafe and, after a long wait, we were all gathered around a huge wooden table in the shade of a large gum tree, enjoying our well earned lunches. Unfortunately for Fran (who had been the first one to place her lunch order), she appeared to have been (once again) overlooked, and received her lunch about 20 minutes after we had finished ours.
It was great to spend a lazy hour by the river with the large gathering of riders and support crew, but eventually we all knew that the time had come for the return ride. John instructed Warren carefully on the path we were to follow back and then promptly rode in the opposite direction, leaving Warren somewhat confused. Joy was also a little more than confused when she realised that John had also ridden off with her car keys.
 |
Bob with his new soft helmet |
In spite of these (John induced) problems the peloton did reform and succeed in making good time back to Yarra Junction where we bade farewell to Warren, John and Steve and to Launching Place where we bade farewell to Dennis Shepherd. All was going well until Bob announced that his rear tyre had developed exactly the same type of hernia that my front tyre had carried for the entire ride. The amazing thing is that both tyres were identical brands and, after dozens of successful transits of this trail, they had chosen the same day to rupture. Was this just coincidence or some sort of cruel joke being played on us by Vulcan?
We were also growing more aware of the increase in temperature that had subtly taken place during the afternoon. The late afternoon sun was starting to suck the moisture from our hard working bodies. Ross also warned me that something else was trying to suck the moisture from my riding knicks. Apparently I was being pursued by a tenacious Odonate* that was flying in my slipstream a few cm behind me. I pedalled faster but the beast steadfastly maintained its position. For km after km the weird standoff continued. No matter how fast I went the psycho flying creature just stayed there. I tried swiping my hand behind me to scare it off, but it just dodged and resumed its position again. This was certainly an episode from the Entomological Twilight Zone.
By the time we reached the water trough at Seville the marauding insect had finally lost interest and, after a long drink and a bit of water play, we were on our way again. In spite of the growing heat I think we were all feeling pretty strong and the remainder of the ride was completed in good time. Even more amazingly, both Bob's tyre and mine had withstood the ride and brought us safely back to the starting point.
All in all it had been a very successful start to the 2004 Riding Season.
* Dragon Fly (editor's note)