Sat Sep 29th 2007
The Fourth Annual Donna Buang Lungbuster

The Annual Lungbuster is something you just either have to love or loathe. When you sit down and analyse it is hard to think of any valid reason why anyone in their right mind would want to punish their ageing bodies by riding a pushbike up a 1200 metre vertical climb. When you also take into account the rough roads, fallen trees and freezing conditions at the summit, the question becomes an even harder one to answer.

In spite of the paradox that the Lungbuster provides, for some reason it has become by far our most popular ride of the year. Each year more and more riders try to pit their legs and cycles against the mountain. And each year the mountain springs some surprises of its own. One thing is for certain, when you are dealing with Donna, you can never take anything for granted.

As I approached the Launching Place car park at 8.15 am I was pleased to see that, for once, I was not the first person there. To the contrary, the car park was already rapidly filling with cars and riders. Within the next 30 minutes we were to see the entire park filled with our vehicles, and it was a sight to bring joy to any President's eye. I quickly passed the list of riders to Marg Jones who had kindly offered to act as official starter and time keeper for the day and went round to meet as many of the riders as possible.

As well as our regular riders we had several visiting riders who would be joining us for the day. These included Neville Warburton (Steve's brother), Michael Stanborough (who joins the ride every year), Frank Preyor (an experienced Audax rider) and someone answering to the mysterious name of "jur". When he arrived we found that his bike was as undersized as his name. To everyone's amazement he presented with a tiny folding bike that looked like it would be more at home in the Moscow Circus than on a Lungbuster. The rider himself looked skinny enough to be real rider but we all had serious doubts about the bike.

When 8.30 am came around it was time for the first small group of riders to set off. This time was reserved for first time riders and those returning from illness, but to my amazement, just about every rider that was in the car park insisted that they were just "slow riders" and demanded to be included in the tortoises group. I tried in vain to hold a few back but it was like trying to hold back the king tide. Soon a massive group of about 20 riders was making its way up Don Rd.

The original aim had been to try and arrange starting times so that everyone got to the top at about the same time. While this was a noble aim, I could quickly see that it was unlikely to succeed. Further groups were sent off at 10 minute intervals, till the appointed time for my start. At 9.00 am I headed off with Kev Henley, Ross Bury and Andrew Dunne. We all started slowly and tried to husband our strength for the challenge ahead. It did not take long for the talking to dry up as no one wanted to waste any energy.

Within 7 km from the start we had spread out into single file and Andrew was starting to pull away into the distance. I put my head down and tried hard to find a comfortable rhythm but soon became aware of a nagging cramp in my lower back. This was not a promising start to the ride. I started to lift my backside off the seat every few hundred metres to stretch, but it really didn't do a lot of good. I started to feel like the 2007 Lungbuster would not see me achieve a "PB", but that was not surprising since I had not done much training at all. I just hoped that I could make it to the summit. At this stage that seemed a long, long way off.

Soon I was riding by myself with Andrew and Kevin out of sight in front and Ross somewhere behind. I clicked down to the lowest gear (wishing that I had a couple of even lower ones) and motored along along at about 10 kph. A loud huffing noise from the rear turned out to be Werner who was completely unaffected by the force of gravity and soon whizzed past and disappeared. There are obvious advantages to only weighing 55 kg !

After about 1 hour of riding I was relieved to see the turnoff at Panton Gap and also managed to catch up to Kevin who had obviously slowed down a little. I continued on till the boom gate and then stopped to have a drink and snack. This also gave me a chance to try to stretch out some of the cramp in my lower back. It didn't work.

After a couple of minutes I was back on the bike and slowly grinding my way up the steep bitumen section. It was here that I first caught sight of some of the 8.30 am group. A small group were gathered around fixing a puncture. I tried to say "hi" as I passed but my lack of breath would not allow coherent speech. I pedalled on into the "death zone" above 600 metres, accompanied only by my wheels crunching on the fallen debris and my own thumping heart. By this stage I had read that the body starts consuming itself - muscles dissolve and the lungs fill with clotted blood. You have to dig deep within to find the willpower to keep pushing one crank in front of the other. I dug deep and found an old biscuit in my back pocket.

A few minutes later other riders appeared up ahead. Some of them were not looking good. I can see that when riders drop on Donna Buang you have to just leave them where they stop. It would be far too dangerous to try to get them back down. With a weak wave I wobbled past and hoped that I would not hit the same wall that they had obviously ridden into, although at that stage any wise punter would have put their money on the wall winning.

I pondered whether it would make more sense to tack up the steepest sections, but realised that this would only add to the distance and decided to just keep riding straight ahead, adjusting my speed to a steady 8 to 9 kph. About 17 km into the ride I could hear a strange sound coming from behind (and no, it wasn't the egg sandwiches I had eaten the previous night). The sound grew louder and manifested itself into the weird apparition of a giant rider on a bike. Apparently I was hallucinating, for when I had a closer look it turned out to be a slight rider on a miniature bike. It was none other than the mysterious visitor on his folding Birdy (actually not a Birdy, but in our group all folding bikes are referred to as Birdies). He was making good headway but did not stop to talk - he seemed intent on proving something. We later found that he had achieved the fastest time up the mountain, but since he had "forgotten" to pay the $5 contribution to the catering, there was significant doubt as to whether his time should be ratified. It did not stop him availing himself of the food and drinks supplied by our support crews however.

Last year I had managed to get to the top in 2 hrs 15 mins, but it was evident that this year Donna would have her revenge. I had already been riding for 1 hr 45 mins and I had not even reached the flat section at about the 20 km mark. No point in crying over spilt milk, all I could hope for was to stay upright. I guess it only goes to show that training does help. Last year I had been busy training for the Big Bay Ride but this year I had spent most of the previous few weeks resting and eating cakes. Although I had hoped that this "alternative training" might have given me the edge I needed, I had miscalculated badly.

The flat section finally arrived and gave me a welcome chance to recover my rhythm. Finally I changed out of first gear and cranked the speed up to a giddy 20 kph, but the respite was short lived. Soon I was back to the lowest gear and counting off the remaining kilometres to the top. To my surprise I started to see liberal patches of snow on the sides of the road. I don't think any of us had expected that at this time of the year.

The snow got thicker as I finally reached the bitumen section. This is a magical way to end a very hard ride and I started to admire the beauty that was all around me. From time to time gaps in the trees gave a majestic view down to the lowlands from where we had ridden. If you need proof that we had ridden up a significant climb, a glance at the panoramic views and the snowy landscape should provide it.

By the time I made the final T intersection I knew that I was running on empty and, as I turned the corner, I could see that I was not the only one that was feeling the strain. A few metres ahead of me "Mega" Mike Litchfield was locked in a fearful stalemate with the force of gravity. Although he was upright on the bike he was making no progress at all. I wondered just how long this cosmic struggle had been going on. I suppose it was a bit like the metaphorical "irresistible force being pitted against an immovable object".

I slowly wobbled closer to see the display at closer quarters. In the five minutes or so it took me to cover the 50 metres that was separating us, Mike had managed to balance his bike on the one spot with his forward propulsive force failing to make any headway against the gravitational force that wanted him back down at Launching Place. This was a macabre but strangely fascinating phenomenon. Mike turned in my direction and managed to say "I've hit the wall". By the look on his face it must have really been a BIG wall.

Summoning up the remaining one calorie of energy left in my bloodstream I tried to just keep turning the cranks over. This section is surely the toughest of the entire climb, with the virtual gradient hitting 75%. (Virtual gradient is an amalgam made up of an obscure combination of actual gradient, rider's mass, air temperature, distance already travelled, type of bike and a few other factors too esoteric to describe here).

Although I could see the summit it did not appear to get any closer. According to Einstein time does slow down when you approach the speed of light, but in my case I had discovered a reverse situation whereby both time and speed had slowed to almost zero. I felt like I could be lost in this cosmic standstill for all eternity. How long this continued I could not say, however I was shaken from my stupor by someone shouting "You can stop now, you've made it".

What a joy it was to prize my bum from the seat, attempt to straighten my crippled back and try to regain a semblance of presidential dignity. Unfortunately my legs didn't want to move so I staggered more than walked to the table that was laden with cakes, sandwiches and hot drinks. I immediately started eating anything I could pick up. I felt like I deserved calorific gratification and was determined to get it. The catering crew had done an amazing job and I sure that I was not the only one that was saved from certain death by their welcome ministrations.

After a few minutes I was able to look around and have a better look at the surroundings. The summit was covered with several inches of glistening white snow and flurries of fresh snow were still falling. I was soon reminded that snow is cold and rushed off to retrieve the warm clothing I had waiting for me in Chris' car. All the while this was going on, other riders were arriving at the finishing post. As each rider climbed from their bike they were met by applause and encouragement from those who had already arrived.

For those 19 riders who had completed the ride for the first time I was sure that it was a moment that they will remember for the rest of their lives. Although it might not be as big as Everest, there is no doubt that riding up Donna Buang is a significant personal physical (and mental) challenge and everyone that makes it to the top is to be congratulated. It is a far greater achievement for someone to battle and overcome their own personal demons all the way to the top, than for an experienced rider to set a blistering pace. One of the most significant results of the day was that every one of the 39 starters made it to the finish line.

When I finally got around to checking my time I discovered that it had taken 2 hrs 29 mins. This was 14 minutes slower than 2006 but I was just glad to have made it one more time. Maybe next year I will do some training.

After the final batch of riders successfully made the finish line it was almost time to face the final challenge - that of riding back down the mountain without being frozen stiff. Even with the extra layers of clothing I added it did not take long for me to feel the icy tentacles biting at my face and fingers. With the ice and snow still on the road I took my time on the descent, not wanting to come to grief on any of the turns. In some respects the descent is harder than the ascent. You don't get as tired, but the freezing temperatures and the concentration make it a real relief when you finally make it safely to the bottom.

Unfortunately I discovered that I had the company of a strong head wind all the way back from Warburton to Launching Place. It was somewhat of a relief when I was finally able to turn into the car park and get off the bike for the last time. There were still several riders and support crew members gathered chatting around their cars and it wasn't until about 2.25 pm that I crawled into the car and headed for home. It really had been a memorable day. Am I looking forward to next year ? What do you think ?

PS. That's my impressions of the ride, now how about some other riders contributing their stories of this ride ?????

Here's how Geoff Vigar saw the Big Ride.....

Over the past months, on the usual Thursday afternoon Warby ride the buzz had been going around about the Mt Donna Buang ride to be held on Grand Final day morning.

“Are you going to complete the ride?”

With this mountain looming over us as a taunting reminder of the forthcoming event as we rode to Warburton each Thursday afternoon my thoughts were “do I want to do this ride?” - they must be crazy!!

Riding from Woori Yallock to Mt Evelyn is a big enough challenge – but the proposed Donna ride is a Mountain, not a slight elevation.

If I wanted to complete this ride the last thing I wanted was to conk out half way.

So in early August this year I had a crack at riding the dirt road from the Basin to Olinda. A kilometer or so in I thought gee this is tough, after a while I got into an awkward rhythm. I finally made it to the top (just under 6 k’s) and was very pleased with myself. The hardest part for me was finding the right gear and my lower back pain was testament to the fact that I had not been in the correct gear for much of the ride.

I completed this ride several times over the last 2 months before the big ride and gradually decreased my times. I felt I was ready for the big ride.

In the weeks before the bid day, we had access to a graph of the ride (looked very daunting in this format) and a Google Earth overlay map, which had lots of twists and turns along the route to the summit, a sure sign of the steepness to come.

With the big ride now only a couple of days away, I was eagerly keeping an eye on the weather and couldn’t believe the weather man when he said that there was rain and possible snow down to 900 metres – What!!! Are we going to get an e mail from the Pres to cancel this ride?

As the big day arrived the bad weather had cleared. Russell, Terry and myself were the first ones to arrive at The Launching Place Pub car park, but the other riders arrived very soon after and before long the whole car park was abuzz with familiar faces and bikes everywhere.

2 Bob was busily pumping up our tyres with his floor pump. After pumping up every bike tyre in the car park, I think he was sorry he offered!!

8.30 approached and the first bunch (slow and steady) including myself gathered near the Warburton Highway and were off and riding. We turned immediately right into Don Road. The steady and nervous chatter amongst us mostly first timers soon died down to the task ahead – it was a steady climb after about a K. The beauty of the surrounding properties kept my mind off the steady pushing. I was only a few K in when I found myself at the front of the group – did I know the way? . After about 6 k I realised I had made the wrong jacket choice and was getting quite hot. When the opportunity came along I quickly stopped and changed – with a few cries from passing riders “are you OK – have you had a puncture?”. Back on the bike at a steady pace, I found myself up front again admiring the beauty of the ride as the climb increased. As we approached Panton Gap turnoff (about 12 k in), I found I was still too hot and stopped to take the splash jacket off. While I was doing this Paul Barnard, Terry Drummy and ‘Warby’ Phil pulled up to see that I was OK – we took the opportunity to have a drink for me to share a few Dinosaur lollies. ‘Warby’ Phil had actually started 10 minutes behind us, so was riding quite well.

After the stop, Phil was the first one off and as he faded into the distance I didn’t see him again until I reached the summit by which time he had changed into his civvies and was probably on his third cuppa.

I was pleased to see that we were still on asphalt road. After a few K just before the road surface changed to dirt I looked to my left and was blown away with the awesome view of the valley below – unbelievably steep and beautifully treed – this would be a challenge for a bush walk!! Back to the task at hand, the dirt road was now putting my Olinda training to the test. I now only had on a long sleeve T shirt and my short sleeve riding jersey over the top but was sweating heavily. My head band under my helmet was soaking up some of the sweat, but I had a steady drip hitting the frame of the bike. I was glad I had my hydration pack on my back, as with the steady pushing up the mountain I found it easier to drink from the tube rather than take one hand off the handle bars and reach for the water bottle. Having dehydrated at the end of a Marathon some 23 years ago, I was not going to let this happen again.

With Phil the only rider in front of me I amused myself by following his tyre track on the dirt road.

Apart from the sound of my steady breathing, the silence was broken by small streams in the forest trickling down rock faces making their way to the bottom.

I knew from the graph of the ride Dennis had provided that the False Summit was at about the 19K point – but it never seemed to come. The K’s were going past slowly at this point as quick glances at my speedo revealed that I was riding at about 8 Klm an hour. I think it was at this time that the Hang Glider ramp came into sight and the most awesome view of the valley below – why would you be anywhere else!!

Then finally the False Summit appeared and the road started to level slightly – I actually got into second gear and felt I was belting along – the reward, a cold wind on my sweaty body.
I soon heard a familiar voice, Paul had caught up and it was good to have company again after so long on my own. The only thing was Paul had his iPod playing “King of the Mountain” for inspiration and found it hard to hear what I was saying. As we rode along now steadily climbing again, Paul got a hundred yards in front of me contently listening to the Oils when a @#%&*)^ driver in a four wheel drive drove past me at break neck speed – Paul was a little over from the left of the road, I yelled out to warn him of the approaching vehicle, but the iPod ensured my voice was drowned out. The 4 wheel drive did not slow down as he approached Paul tooting his horn very loudly several times. Just at this point Paul sensed something was there and pulled to the left as the 4 wheel drive zoomed past – phew that was a heart pumper, if what I was doing wasn’t making my heart pump fast enough.

As we continued I came along side Paul again, pointing out the snow in the gutters of the dirt road – “what”? There is snow on the road - “what”? - damn iPods!!

As we approached the T intersection before the summit and turned to ride the final kilometre to the top – 2 thoughts were ringing in my ears, the first – “the last kilometre is the hardest and a killer” and the second - Hooters words of wisdom on every ride “why do we do this”.

About half way from the T intersection to the top I was starting to slowly freeze, which is a very weird feeling – hot as Hell on the inside, and my face and fingertips freezing off. Then it started to really snow. With the sound of the ice breaking under my tyres, I thought of stopping to put on my rain jacket, but I had come so far and had not stopped since Pantons Gap and was not going to stop on this steep grade with my quads screaming out - I am sure I would not have got going again. So I kept peddling thinking this is the longest K I have ever ridden – the top must be around this corner – No! - Car park No 5 – what, where is this summit?

Then in the driving snow I saw the outline of the volunteers taking photos, I just had enough energy left to do the V for Victory sign for the photo – told the lovely lady with the clip board my name so my time could be recorded and proceeded to where the hot drinks and my warm clothes were. Was I glad I had a bag of warm clothes – ended up putting on about 5 layers for the ride down the mountain.

I was the second rider to the top (16 th overall) in a time of 2hrs 37minutes – what a hoot!!!

Many thanks to all the volunteers and congratulations to all those who completed the ride.

Almost forgot – saw a Lyre Bird on the descent (what a beautiful place) about the time 2 Bob passed me at 100K an hour.

Geoff Vigar October 2007

Official Times

Absent - Lothar Rockmann, Jon Bate, Peter Booth, Brendan Noone, Paul Clarke, Tom Partel, Bob Patterson, Noel Wolstencroft

Injured - Bob Lewis, Phil Jones, Daryl O'Grady

Stayed at Home to rest - John Seamons, Warren Billson

Time Keeper - Marg Jones

Catering - Joan Horton, Heather Allen, Chris Mackay, Di Hoare

Photographer - Megan Wallens

Rider Support - Gary Hall