The Joy that Shopping Brings
On the map it looked truly inspiring. Combining all the elements required for challenging cycling - long straights, hill climbs, tight corners, high winds, ocean and forest paths and cappucino stops - this looked like it could potentially be the mother of all rides. Melbourne might have just experienced the Formula One Grand Prix but we were looking forward to a much more exciting Grand Prix of our own. The Warby Riders were about to embark on yet another challenge - The Bellarine Circuit.
As the appointed day grew closer we anxiously watched the weather forecasts for news of favourable conditions. The building excitement also meant that Ross was not able to sleep for the preceeding three nights. He kept imagining huge fallen trees across the road that the Massey would be able to pull aside in triumph. Bikes were cleaned, oiled, fondled and then cleaned all over again in preparation. Every screw and bolt was checked, every gear change rehearsed. Tyres pressures boosted to the maximum, seats and handlebars finely adjusted. All was finally ready.
On the morning of March 10 we all rose before dawn and earnestly peered to the East for the first lightening of the skies that would indicate what type of day we might expect. With agonising slowness the sun rose enough to reveal a low canopy of dark and threatening clouds (and a howling wind). Although this did not look good and we were sorely tempted to go back to bed, Warby Riders are made of unique character and decided to head off anyway.
Half way down to Geelong the wind had increased to a force 9 gale, the skies had darkened to the colour of Bob's thigh bruises, and the rain set in with a vengeance. Was it madness to continue ? Certainly most ordinary men would have U-turned and headed back to the comfort of their homes, but the Warby Riders had a mission to complete. Even a full blown hurricane could not step them at this stage.
By 10 am we were all safely down at Queenscliff and the weather had improved. The wind was still horrific but the rain had stopped and we could even see some patches of blue sky appearing. The peloton started to form. Of the entire Warby Riding Club only Dennis, Ross and Duncan had actually shown the fortitude to attend. Bob had stayed home with his sore leg, John needed more sleep, Warren was somewhere else, Darryl had gone AWOL, and Mal had put in yet another DNF (in fact he did not even start). Dennis (KWT) Dawson encouraged the other riders by explaining that it was quality, not quantity, that counts in the long run.
At this point Ross' bladder started to fail so he raced off on his bike for a ride through pit stop at the nearby toilet. When he had not reappeared 15 minutes later we began to worry that he may have had a terrible accident. Was it possible that his foot could have got stuck in the cleat and he was lying face down in the squalor? Our worst fears were put to rest when he eventually reappeared with a relieved expression on his face and announced that he was ready to ride.
After a few minutes spent on the inevitable photo shoot we finally got on our way. Each rider had been provided with a map so that we would have no difficulty knowing the exact route to take. After all, good organization is the key to a successful expedition.
Twenty minutes later we finally found the correct starting point and headed off towards Ocean Grove. The first leg of the circuit was wind assisted (thanks mainly to Ross' high fibre intake) and so we were able to hurtle down the road at a truly breakneck speed. In fact the ride to Barwon Heads was completed in about 35 minutes. We were we all in high spirits until an ominous crunch was heard and Duncan announced that his rear derailleur had developed a problem.
The wounded bike was laid to rest on the grass and Duncan proceeded to attack it with various items from his toolkit. This was not looking good, and Duncan's hands and previously pristine riding attire were soon covered with liberal smears of grease and dirt. After dismantling and reassembling the offending gear assemblies Duncan announced that all was fixed again, although by this time he looked more like a rigger from an oil well than an elite cyclist. Apparently it was a faulty gudgeon pin assembly in the rotator cuff facilitator.
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The Joy that Shopping Brings |
Since it was now about 11.30 am we were starting to feel a little hungry and looked out for the support crew. Where were they? Nowhere to be seen. A quick mobile call revealed that they were still shopping at Queenscliff, but they did eventually join us for a cappucino at one of the local coffee shops. All was going well until Estelle jumped up from the table and led out a loud scream. She had apparently mistaken a falling seed pod from the overhanging "bong tree" for a vicious huntsman spider.
After the rather entertaining morning tea stop it was time to again hit the road. We remounted and headed off again, back across the bridge towards Ocean Grove. This clever manoeuvre actually cut off several km from the original ride and meant that we were back on schedule again.
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Ross flirts with the waitress |
Once over the bridge we veered left alongside the camping ground and headed up Grubb Rd, allowing the wind to do most of the work. The road was undulating but the wide shoulders made riding safe and mostly smooth going. By this time the skies had cleared and we looked forward to a fine afternoon. With our high spirits and extreme level of fitness we felt as if we might be able to complete TWO laps of the circuit before nightfall.
A fast leg along the Bellarine Higway towards Geelong ended with a right hand turn into Christies Road which soon intersected with the Geelong to Queenscliff Rail Trail. We were pleased to find this part of the trail was smooth and firm with few road crossings. Although we were gradually turning into the wind the surrounding trees gave good protection and the pace was still good.
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We arrive at Drysdale |
When we reached the picturesque Drysdale Railway Station we again stopped to study the map and take a few pictures. We were all starting to look forward to reaching Portarlington where the support crew would be waiting with a magnificent lunch prepared for us. We only had about 12 km to go, but that included the long climb over the rather sinister sounding "Scotchman's Hill". The wind was no longer our friend and so we knew that the energy would need to come from us for the remainder of the circuit. On top of this Duncan announced that his front tyre had sprung a slow leak and proceeded to vigorously pump additional air into it.
Since it was after 1.30 pm it was no wonder our bellies were pleading for sustenance as we finally rolled into the township of Portarlington. We looked right and left for the support crew with the long awaited lunch and drinks. We rode back and forth along the foreshore looking for a lady with a sandwich. We pushed our bikes through the sand looking for a stale biscuit. Nothing, not a crumb. No sign of lunch or the support crew. This was not the welcome we had been expecting. It is sure hard to get good staff nowadays.
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An exhausted Duncan waits for lunch |
Another mobile phone call revealed the source of the problem - they were still shopping, but would be arriving with our stale sandwiches in another 45 minutes or so. Duncan used this time to dismantle his bike and search for the origin of his slow leak. By the time he was finished, the new grease and dirt from the puncture repair had combined with the previous dirt and grease from his derailleur repair to mean that he now looked more like a clumsy septic tank cleaner than an elite cyclist. When lunch finally arrived he vigorously rubbed his hands in the grass (trying to avoid the copious dog poo) and soon announced that he was ready to eat.
By this time we were hungry enough to eat the tyres off our bikes, so the somewhat belated arrival of lunch was very welcome indeed. A hot coffee or two went a long way towards replenishing the energy stores for the final leg of the Circuit, which we knew was going to be a hard push into the wind.
By 2.15 pm we bade farewell to the support crew and faced our bikes into the wind and headed off yet again. The next 15 km of the ride took us along the Esplanade alongside the beaches of Portarlington, Indented Head (named after an unfortunate cycling accident) and St Leonards. Because of the extreme wind each km of the way had to be hard fought, but the ends justified the means as we were amply rewarded with glorious views as each bend was turned.
A couple of km down the road we were almost knocked off our bikes by some nutters in a car. We were about to let fly with a torrent of verbal abuse, until we realised that it was just the members of the support crew racing on their way to do some more late afternoon shopping before the shops closed.
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Following the Leader |
The hard going finally ended when we turned off the Espanade and started to head East again along Murraduc Rd. It was a relief to be able to gradually increase the speed and let the wind do some of the hard work. Unfortunately lungs and legs are not the only things that cyclists have to worry about and Ross reported that he had reached "about 58" on the new Cactal Scale. This was not a good sign and may require a visit to his Proctologist in the near future.
When we finally turned South into the Queenscliff-Portarlington Road we knew that we were almost within sight of the finish line and thoughts started to drift towards what we were going to have for dinner. According to our cycle computers we had travelled over 75 km, and had only another 15 or so km remaining.
The final section of the Bellarine Circuit required us to return to the Rail Trail for the last 4 km into Queenscliff. This section of the Trail is sealed and makes for excellent riding. The peloton reformed into a tight formation for the triumphant ride to the finish line.
After completing the official ride all we had to do was ride back up the hill to where we had parked the cars. Surely the support crew would be waiting to cheer our successful arrival. Unfortunately when we did find the cars again, the crew were nowhere to be seen - apparently they had drifted off to make goo goo eyes at some guy on a Harley Davidson motor bike. He wasn't even wearing lycra - some women are difficult to understand.
We felt a little deflated but made our way down to the nearby municipal toilet to change into something "a little more comfortable" (and a little less smelly). The interior of the toilet was dark, smelly and forboding, and no sooner had we dropped our knicks that some innocent looking guy came in the door. For some reason he seemed to visibly blanch when he saw us and went and hid in the only cubicle. Unless he had a torch with him I doubt whether he would have been able to see anything at all in there. Oh well, human behaviour is strange I guess.
Several minutes three dapper looking guys emerged from the gloom and proceeded to chat up the available talent. They readily agreed to let us take them out to dinner. Since we could not find any restaurants open in Queenscliff we headed off to Ocean Grove. There we found a large Chinese restaurant overlooking the Ocean.
Soon the courses started flowing (and so did Ross' flatulence - although he kept blaming it on his chair). Maybe it was the fresh sea air, or maybe it was the pork rolls or the MSG, but soon we were all laughing so loudly that I feared we might get evicted from the premises. It really had been a great day and this was the perfect way to unwind after a 90 km ride.
As the sun slowly set over the white caps crashing onto the beach we started to look forward to our next ride - wherever that might take us. Ross proudly announced that he was finally going shopping for a road bike and a cupboard full of new lycra. When we rose to leave at the end of the meal we could not help but notice the patch of grease stains all over the white tablecloth where Duncan had been sitting.
After dinner we all wandered around the corner to the nearby Hendry Cycles and lusted after the bikes seductively displayed in the window. Is it possible for a man to fall in love with his bike? Of course it is.
PS This ride has now been made into a major motion picture. If you would like a copy on CDROM, the price is a very reasonable $1 (to cover cost of duplication and media).
Dennis Dawson KWT