Lunch stop at Rhyll
I must admit it seemed just too good to believe. After the wettest and coldest October that any of us (apart from Bob) could remember, the weather bureau was finally promising us a fine and sunny day. This sounded like just the type of day we have all been looking forward to for so long. If the forecast was accurate then I was confident that we would all be in for a memorable day indeed.
Apart from Duncan (who was off swimming with the dolphins somewhere in Queensland) and John (who was off in the land of Nod somewhere in Mooroolbark) it looked like we would have a good turnout for the day's ride. I even had a call from Dennis Shepherd informing me that some of the riders from his chapter would be joining us at Phillip Island. I had visions of a triumphant crossing of the bridge from San Remo as we all rode up in close formation - that would be something to tell the grandchildren about (if we had any).
On Monday I was informed that Mal, Darrell and Bob had decided to increase the length of the ride by a lazy 100 km or so by riding down all the way from Narre Warren. I decided that a much sensible and achievable goal for me would be to join the peloton somewhere near The Gurdies. Ross had indicated that he would be starting there also. In this way the peloton would swell to its final size by the time we reached San Remo. It all sounded pretty exciting.
On the appointed day I awoke to the surprising sight of a perfectly clear sky with enough blue to fully dress a whole squadron of sailors. Just as exciting was the fact that the gentle breeze was coming from the North - just perfect for assisting us on the southerly ride to the island.
When I finally ascertained that the trinoton was ready to depart from Narre Warren (only about 45 mins behind schedule) I could wait no longer and herded Maggie to the car to begin my own adventure. A few minutes later we were driving off into the sunshine.
My original plan had been to park at Lang Lang and watch the others as they rode past and then drive ahead to where I had decided to start. This plan was thrown out the window when I saw just how enticing the wide smooth road was. I hastily pulled out the bike and headed off out of the petrol station. About 20 metres later I was sitting on the ground covered in grease trying to rethread my stupid chain. This was not exactly how I had anticipated starting, however I am an eternal optimist and about 5 mins later I was finally on my way.
When we arrived at Lang Lang I rang Mal to check on their position. I was informed that they were about 10 km back towards Melbourne and hurtling along at about 35 kph. At that rate I guessed that they would be hot on my heels within a few kilometres. With my chain back on the cogs again I started to move along freely. The wind really was my friend and kindly assisted with gentle encouragement from behind. The road started to fly past and I could not help but smile as the kilometres steadily mounted. Surely this is what cycling is all about.
About 20 km further down the road I started to wonder what had happened to Ross and decided to call him on the mobile. "Where are you ?" I asked, "About 100m behind you, watching you wobble all over the road" he replied.
A little further on Ross and I were riding in tandem and still keeping a wary lookout for the flying peloton that surely must be closing from the rear. When we finally reached the roundabout at the Phillip Island turnoff my chain had come off a second time, depositing copious amounts of added grease to my hands and gloves, but there was still no sign of the other riders. We decided to wait by the side of the road and allow them to catch up.
About 15 minutes later we saw Bob come flying to the top of the hill with no sign of Mal or Darrell. "Gee I feel crook" he said as he proceeded to disappear up the next big hill ahead of us. The other two riders joined us shortly afterwards and we completed the remaining 6 km of undulating road to San Remo.
As we were now about 45 mins late arriving at San Remo, Dennis and Richard had decided to head off and wait for us at Rhyll, another 15 or so km further on. So much for my visions of the triumphant entry to the Island.....
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Lunch stop at Rhyll |
To cut a long story short, by 12 noon we were all happily ensconsed in the coffee shop at Rhyll and ready for lunch. With a beautiful view of the Bay and a cappucino in hand this seemed like the perfect way to start (or end) a ride.
We soon learned that Bob had devised his very own unique way of attracting a personal crowd as he rode into Rhyll. Unfortunately for Bob, the crowd was not one of admiring spectators, but rather a crowd of angry hornets that descended on his shiny legs with a vengeance and proceeded to drink their fill. Unfortunately for the hornets they did not realise that Bob had traces of blood mixed with his steroids and the next day the local papers were filled with stories of huge mutant ninja hornets terrorising the island.
Dennis Shepherd and Richard were already waiting for us to make all the necessary introductions and soon the conversation was flowing smoothly. The main topic of conversation was bikes (of course) and all the future rides that were still ahead of us.
It was at this stage that Darrell announced that he would be withdrawing from the Tour and would spend the remainder of the afternoon snoozing on the grass. This proved to me that the guy is obviously much more intelligent than he looks, although I suspect it had more to do with the punishing pace that Bob and Mal had inflicted on him for the preceeding 100 km or so.
"Geel I feel crook" bob reiterated as he climbed on his bike, scratched his legs, and shot out of sight in the direction of Cowes and the Nobbies. The rest of us followed in his wake and allowed our food to complete its journey to our waiting bellies. The wind remained gentle and allowed us to enjoy (almost) every minute of the trip down to the end of the island.
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Smooth water at the Nobbies |
We were amazed to find that even at the Nobbies (which is normally one of the windiest and coldest places you can imagine) it was actually warm and still, with almost no surf breaking on the rocks far below.
I took the opportunity to attempt to repair my chain again (which had broken for about the 10th time that day) and to add even more black grease to my already impressive display. This was the only black spot on an otherwise perfect day.
All that remained was the return ride back to Cowes to meet the support crew (and to wake up Darrell from his slumbers). This was achieved with no further mishaps or chain breaks, although by now I think that most of our legs were starting to get a little tired (and Bob's were starting to look like the Swiss Alps).
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Some of the riders at the Nobbies kiosk - I was too dirty to be in
the picture |
We shared ice cream and a few jokes as we planned our next rides and then farewelled Bob, Darrell and Mal as they drove back to Melbourne. As for Dennis and Richard, they still had the return ride back to San Remo to look forward to.
Ross and I completed the afternoon with another scenic ride around Cowes before settling down for a quiet dinner overlooking the water. This really was a true gem of a day and one that I think we will remember for a long time.