It is well known that anyone who ventures into the endless labyrinth that constitutes Melbourne's Inner City Bike Paths network, runs the risk of never being seen again. With multitudes of sinuous turns and intersections every hundred metres or so, it is very easy to lose all sense of direction, time and space. In many respects this intricate cobweb of paths constitutes the true Bermuda Triangle of Cycling.
With this in mind I was pleased to see that Mal had come prepared and was carrying a sophisticated GPS unit in his hand at the start of the ride. As he furiously pressed the controls and searched in vain for an obliging overhead satellite, it soon become apparent that the curse of the Bermuda Bicycle had struck again. "It's really strange, I've never seen anything like it before - some strange force field seems to be blocking the transmission ", he muttered, before throwing the unit back into my car.
We gathered at the Mullum Mullum Reserve at the end of Springvale Rd (I guess one Mullum was just not enough), not really sure how many riders to expect. Since this was the designated starting point for "Adventurous Riders" we knew that we would NOT be seeing John Seamons at this spot, but I was hoping for a good turnout of real riders.
After a small initial confusion we managed to gather everyone together in the same spot. I was pleased to find Daryl, JLC, Mal, Ross, Cheryl, Bob, Little John and Peter were present, along with Roger and his partner Mary. This gave us an initial starting peloton of 11 riders and, with more expected to join later, I suspected that this would be our biggest group ever.
Soon we headed off into the unknown and began frantically winding up and down and dodging around corners. The riders soon started to spread out. NOT GOOD. I well remembered what happened on one of our previous forays into this unfamiliar territory. An unfortunate missed call of "Turn Left" had seen half the riders get lost about a quarter of the way into the ride. I can't recall if we have ever seen some of those lost riders again. With that in mind I tried to ensure that we kept today's group together.
After about an hour of such exertion we stopped at the prearranged meeting point for "beginner riders". This was the spot that Hooters had chosen for his Lilliputian Ride. The only problem was he was still nowhere in sight. A quick mobile call revealed that he had become confused and tried to start his car with the brass key from his Meccano set and had thus broken his Commodore. He said that he would have to bring the Jag instead. Since Hooters only ever usually drives the Jag on Sundays, this was indeed a momentous occasion.
We did, however, find two newcomers waiting to meet us. Diana (could we give her the nickname "Princess" ???) had apparently read all about us on the Internet and wanted to see if we were as impressive in the flesh as we were in cyberspace. With her dimunutive size and light weight she certainly looked like she could make a good hill climber. The huge pannier attached to her bike showed that she had also come equipped for any eventually. With an ample supply of food, camping equipment, blankets, ropes, crampons and medical supplies, it looked like she was ready to cycle across the Himalayas.
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The Easter Monday peloton relaxes at Ivanhoe Golf Club from left Mal, Bob, Mary, Ross, John (at rear), John Dawson, Dennis, Peter, Diana, Stuart, Daryl, John Ruigrok (standing), Cheryl. Picture courtesy of Roger Bridson |
Stuart on the other hand admitted that he had not ridden a bike since the fourth grade and looked like he might find any ride a real challenge. He also went on to inform us that he was in awe of Hooters' cycling prowess. (Alarm bells started ringing).
After a ten minute wait Hooters finally appeared in his Jag and spent the next twenty minutes putting the back wheel on his bike. By this time Bob was starting to do a slow boil and started mouthing off about "all the stops and starts".
When we finally got underway it was only a very short distance to the Ivanhoe Golf Club where we stopped again for some lunch. Bob and Daryl turned left instead of right and soon disappeared from sight. The remainder of the group spent some enjoyable time getting to know the newcomers and to have a restful lunch at the clubhouse. When Bob and Daryl finally appeared, Bob looked even more morose than usual. He sat down on the ground and started to sulk while the rest of us tipped heaps of scorn on him (like we always do).
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The peloton takes a rest stop |
This also gave us a chance to ask Di (Princess?) what she does for a living. When she replied that she was a physiotherapist Peter immediately remembered all the aches and pains he had. Di replied that such problems are to be expected when you reach Peter's great age.
After a leisurely lunch Ross proceeded to lead us further into the maze. I was convinced that we were just going round in circles, being sure that we had passed the same spot at least three times. Since our pace was severely restricted by Hooters we needed to stop every few minutes for him to catch up. It was at one of these stops that disaster struck.
I had just taken off when I was halted by a call of pain from behind. Someone shouted for everyone to stop. I turned around to see Bob sprawled on the ground. Was he really hurt or had he just got his dummy caught on his crank? Or was it just an excuse to hold Di's hand? At least Di's physio skills came in handy as she comforted Bob in his hour of need. "Stop that horrible blubbering or I'll whack you with my bike pump", she wisely advised. Like a well trained puppy Bob obediently did what he was told. The rest of us stood by wondering what to do.
"Can't we just drag him under those bushes and cover him with pine bark?", I suggested, anxious to get on with the ride. After a brief discussion Ross offered to ride back to the start and pick up Bob's car. Because we had been going around in circles it did not take Ross long to ride the 3 km straighter path back to the start (unlike the 4 hours it had taken us to get this far). Di, Peter and Roger stayed with Bob while the remainder rode on. Stuart also took the opportunity to take the short cut back to the Fairfield BoatHouse and wait for us to meet him there.
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Crasher Lewis being comforted by Diana |
Without our guide nobody had a clue where to go next. It was at this time an amazing thing happened. John charged into the lead and shouted "Follow Me". It was the only time I had seen John at the front of a peloton, but it really happened. For the next hour John rode like a man possessed and somehow managed to guide us all correctly to the boathouse. Even though I had seen it, I still cannot believe that it really happened.
When we arrived at Fairfield we found Peter and Di having a quiet latte overlooking the Yarra. I suppose he was still trying to impress her with a never ending list of his physical ailments. Stuart had also made it safely this far and was enjoying a nice rest. I have to admit that it is a very spectacular spot to enjoy a quiet coffee and chat.
At this time we started to run a sweep on what was really wrong with Bob.
Some of the options available were
1. Dummy Choke
2. Old Age
3. Haemorhoids
4. Broken Bones
5. Senility
6. Muscle Strain
7. Incontinence
8. Scabies
9. Rabies
10. All of the above
We knew that we would not find out the truth until Bob's remains had been taken to the hospital and forensically examined. I was quietly confident that option 10 would be a certain winner.
After our late afternoon coffee break we were back on the bikes for the short ride back to John's Jag. It was here that we bade farewell to John, Stuart and Di. The reduced peloton rode on back towards Mullum Mullum in rapidly fading light and cooling temperatures. The pace increased a little as Ross led us over (unnecessary ) hills and down dales.
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A sad end for a once great rider Bob lamenting yet another lost National Title |
By 5.30 pm we finally reached our cars. We had covered nearly 90 km and had experienced quite enough excitement for one day. It had been a memorable ride with 14 riders taking part (to one degree or another), but our thoughts were with Bob. Although he can be a cantankerous old fart at times, we have all learned to love him and hope that he will be back on the trail again as soon as possible.
GET WELL BOB.