Monday 13th March 2006
Labour Day Walhalla Forest Ride

With my mountain bike securely packed up in the boot of the car and a thermos on the bike seat we headed off at 8.30 am on our way to our Annual Walhalla Forest Ride. Although the weather was a little dark and wet, the forecasters had promised that it would soon clear to a fine afternoon, so I was confident that we would still get a good turnout for this very popular ride.

I had not gone far when my phone rang for the first time. It was Ross. "I am not feeling well so I have decided to stay home today", he said. That was a rather disappointing start to the day's proceedings, but I could well understand how someone who refuses to eat genuine cycling food would not be feeling like riding in anything other than perfect weather.

A few minutes later the phone rang for a second time. This time it was Hooters. Why was I not surprised ? "I won't be riding today - not if it means getting my hair wet", he said. "I've also withdrawn Warren and Willem" from the ride as well. He sounded like some ancient British armchair Colonel Blimp withdrawing his troops from the battlefield. He hadn't even checked the weather near Cape Otway - just looked out the window in his pyjamas, before retiring back to his bed.

In spite of the early withdrawals (mostly predicted) from the ride, I was still confident that we would have a good turnout of the stronger riders. As we drove down the Princes Highway I was regularly scanning the heavens for any signs of a break in the dark clouds. Unfortunately there weren't any. On a more positive note, our early start did mean that we had time to stop at Yaragon Village for our first cappucinos of the day.

On the final leg from Moe to Erica we were soon able to see the massive devestation caused by the recent bushfires. For kilometre after kilometre we drove through blackened forests, however the widespread signs of early regrowth also gave witness to the unstoppable life force that even such a natural disaster can not extinguish.

At exactly 11 am we pulled up in the Main st of Erica. It did not take long to spy some other yellow jerseys with their support crews. With Phil, Marg, Chris, Lothar, Michael, Peter and myself we would at least be able to form a reasonable peloton, however we decided to wait for any latecomers before heading off on the ride. It was evident that the excitement was too much for some of the riders because Lothar climbed on his bike and for some unknown reason promptly proceeded to crash head first into the brick toilet block. We could only assume that he wanted to test out his helmet before the China Trip.

Looks like John Dawson is well known, even in these parts

Not to be outdone, Peter somehow confused his left and right feet, and staged an horific decleating debacle in the carpark. With blood streaming from his calf, he pronounced that he was "now ready to head off". After taking a look at the dark skies, I suggested that we could consider the option of "Plan B". This was to drive to Walhalla and then wait for the promised fine weather, before riding back along the trail to Erica. Although it seemed to make sense to me, I was outvoted by four of the riders (Chris, Michael, Peter and Lothar) who donned their wet weather gear and disappeared into the gloom.

The rest of the team retreated back to their cars and drove down to Walhalla to await the arrival of the expeditionary force. On arriving in the town it did not take long to see that much had changed in the previous 12 months. Not only were there several new houses and businesses, but the famous Tramway walk was now fenced for the entire length of the town. I suppose this was done in the interests of safety, although it did seem a little sad that the track had now lost a little of its former excitement.

I took the opportunity to jump on my bike and spend some time exploring the township. By now the rain had passed and there were some small breaks of sunshine. It was nice to be able to explore some of the familiar landmarks that we well remembered from our regular camping holidays in this area during the 1980s. Tisdall Camp looked like it had undergone something of a minor transformation since our last holiday there about 15 years ago.

Making our way along the tramway path - note the new safety fence

About an hour or so after leaving Erica the riders made their entry in Walhalla, although it was a little difficult to recognise them under the copious layers of mud that they were all wearing. They brought a series of tall tales about the hardships they had faced and overcome on their short ride - fallen trees, quicksand, flooded creeks and the like. I could have told them about the trouble we had a couple of years ago when we met by a serial killer with a chainsaw, but I did not want to spoil their sense of achievement.

We then all gathered for lunch by the road side. I was astounded as Chris proceeded to unpack one of her huge panniers to reveal a portable cooker, copious amounts of food, miscellaneous cooking utensils, maps and other assorted paraphernalia. She soon had cauldrons of hot soup boiling happily. I would not have been surprised if she had produced a sack of flour and baked a loaf of bread, such was the seemingly endless list of items that she produced. No wonder she complains about riding up hills - she might as well pull a caravan behind her bike.

After lunch it was time to ride back through town and up the steep path to the Long Tunnel Mine. With a large crowd watching us from the mine entrance, none of us wanted to let the climb defeat us. Fortunately we all made it to the top successfully and then headed off along the tramway path. This is the undoubted highlight of any Walhalla ride, with spectacular views down to the town and magnificent forest scenery all along the trail.

Looking down on Walhalla from the Tramway path

This is not a ride for the unwary, however, as a lapse of concentration could send you careering over the edge (well it could if the fence was not there anyway), and there are a wide range of obstacles to dodge as you ride along. It is great fun, however, to ride past a wet branch and then let it swing back into the face of the rider following. We practised this skill on many occasions. Phil managed to snag a large fallen branch in his rear derailleur and then drag it for about 50 metres before stopping.

I also warned Phil about crossing the small creek up ahead. He assured me that he would have no trouble, however a couple of minutes later he was standing up to his calf in cold running water. What a hoot!

This ride is such good fun we all wished it could go on and on, but all too soon we found ourselves at the T intersection and the steep descent that leads back down to the Thompson River Bridge. From above it is hard to appreciate just how steep this section is, however once you start down you quickly realise that you need all your bike handling skills, just to stay upright.

Michael headed down first, with a unique style of sideways skidding - a bit like a crab on a slippery dip. After managing to survive the first section he detoured off into the trees. Apparently he was looking for an exit ramp, so that he could regain his composure before going any further. I went second and soon discovered that the recent rains had made it even more slippery than the last time we were here. It is somewhat unnerving to be sliding downhill with both hands locked onto the brakes and then notice that you have just been passed by your own rear wheel.

Peter adopted his own method of attack - a combination of riding with one foot while running along the ground with the other foot. Lothar, not wishing to severely injure himself before the China Ride, decided to send his bike down first and then come climbing down behind it.

Enjoying the afternoon sunshine in Erica

By the time we all made it to the bottom, our brake pads were smoking, but we sure felt good. With the sun now shining brightly it was time to strip off all our warm clothing and prepare for the ride back to Erica. This entails a fairly solid climb back up to the Rawson Rd, before a gentle cruise down the back road to Erica. We all arrived at Erica in high spirits and were happy to rejoin the support crew and settle down for a long chat in the sun outside the general store. In spite of the early conditions we had made good time and found ourselves with an hour or so to kill before we could head off for dinner.

With the warm Autumn sun streaming in through the plastic awnings and the company of good friends, it felt great to be able to chat about the completed ride, discuss the forthcoming China Ride and to laugh about the inadequacies of those who had capitulated because of the weather and missed out on a fantastic day.

On the way back to Melbourne we stopped at La Porchettas in Warragul where the fun kept coming along with the food and drink. I let Maggie drive the rest of the way home so that I could enjoy a snooze in the car. After all, I had to conserve my strength for the Wangaratta ride next weekend.