Bairnsdale Rail Trail Weekend
The Real Truth can now be told...
Here are some pictures taken during the 2004 Bairnsdale Expedition. Further down the page you can read the entire true story of the weekend.
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The Story Begins.......
After the disastrous 2003 Bairnsdale Expedition (click here if you are not familiar with the calamitous misfortunes that dogged that ill fated group) it was with a sense of foreboding that I packed our bags for the 2004 Epic. The morning had already started badly when I received a call from Lothar. "Dennis, I have bad news", he panted. "I have been stuck in the toilet all week, and cannot come to Bairnsdale".
This was indeed a bad omen for us (and an even worse experience for Cecilia). Lothar was one of our strongest riders and I was relying on him to play a key role in our attempt at the double trail transit. Now, before the expedition had even started, he had been sidelined with food poisoning. Could it be that someone was trying to sabotage our weekend?
Maggie and I made an early start, leaving Melbourne at about 11 am, but as we made the long drive to Bairnsdale questions started racing around my head - Would the motel owner remember the petty thefts that Mal had committed last year ? Would Daryl try for a personal best on the noxious gas emission scale? Could John be relied on to ride more than 10 km in a single day?
Expedition leadership is not an easy task, and although I had planned the weekend with meticulous care, I was well aware that there were still a thousand things that could still go wrong. One thing, however, was falling into place well. The weather forecast was for a fine weekend. Last year we had been beset by continual rain for the majority of the ride so the prospect of a couple of fine days was enough to lift my spirits somewhat.
Because of Mal's disgraceful behaviour, I had changed the Bairnsdale Motel from the one we had stayed at last year and the wisdom of this decision seemed vindicated when I discovered that Maggie and I had been blessed with a large room with a luxurious SPA! That was an unexpected but very welcome surprise. We were the first to check in and had a few hours to rest before the other expedition members arrived, no doubt bringing a fresh load of problems with them.
We were booked into the Main Hotel for dinner at 7.45 pm, but by 6.30 pm I was already starving. Where were all those other teams? Slowly they arrived and by 7 pm we had Daryl and Linda, John and Joy and Duncan and Linda. We were also glad to see Cheryl and the Donald we had heard so much about. I was pleased to see that he was nowhere near as ugly as Cheryl had warned us. Although there was still no sign of Mal and Stacey or Richard and Libby, by 7.30 pm we could wait no longer and so headed off for dinner.
As we walked in the door of the hotel we were pointed to an enormous table that looked like it could have been Kerry Packer's boardroom table. It was so large that we had to shout from one side to communicate with anyone on the other side. After we had been there for a few minutes Mal and Stacey finally arrived. At least by now it did not look quite so empty. A mobile call to Richard and Libby revealed that they were on their way (good), but that they were only just passing through Pakenham (NOT good). Although I had booked the table for 16 people it looked like we were only going to have 12. (I hoped we would not have to pay for the others).
At least the food was as good as we remembered from last time - big servings and reasonably priced. As we ate our food and shouted across the table the main topics of conversation were the weather and the weekend riding challenge. We also had a good opportunity to rubbish those members who had not joined us for the weekend (especially Bob and Peter). I also took the opportunity to gloat over the fact that we had the only room equipped with a spa. (I did not inform of the fact that all their tariffs had been increased to cover the cost of our spa.)
After dinner Duncan and I took the opportunity to wander down the Main St and lust after the nice bikes displayed in the local bike shops. Why can't we see top quality bikes like that in the Emerald shops I wonder? Although the glass in the window looked very fragile, we resisted the urge to commit a crime and reluctantly returned to the group in the hotel.
It had been a long day and I was glad to get back to our motel. And YES, the spa was terrific - just what I needed to recharge my batteries for the challenges that were sure to lie ahead. As I lay my head on the pillow in the King Size bed I could not help but feel excited at the prospect that we might actually get two whole days of fine riding weather. I took a final look at my Norco bike propped up against the spa before turning out the light and heading off for a night of cycle related dreaming.
The combined effects of the spa, the long drive, the big dinner and the warm bed all resulted in a peaceful night's sleep but by 6 am I was ready for the day ahead. Jumping out of bed and opening the curtain I was greeted by a sight that would gladden any cyclist's heart. The sky was clear blue from horizon to horizon. Just as important was the fact that I could not discern even the slightest breeze. I (almost) felt disappointed that I had not scheduled the day's riding to start until 9.30 am.
A quick look out the door also revealed the fact that Richard and Libby had obviously arrived at some time during the night. I knew that sometime during the weekend we could well need Richard's steely South African resolve to pull us through difficult stages of the ride. He had also demonstrated great skill in disciplined pelotonic leadership - a skill completely lacking in most of our other riders.
As the time to departure slowly advanced I took the opportunity to get my bike ready and to don the Warby Ghost Riders uniform. This also gave Maggie the opportunity to get breakfast, complete our packing, clean up the room, pack the car, etc. etc. Everyone knows what a vital role the support crew plays during an expedition like this one.
Slowly the other riders progressively emerged from their nocturnal slumbers and joined me in the car park. By 9 am the sky was still basically clear, but I was a little concerned at a few small clouds that had appeared on the horizon. I was anxious to leave and get some km under our belts while the conditions were still in our favour, but other team members seemed to be having tremendous difficulty just waking up.
Finally I managed to muster all 8 riders together long enough for the obligatory group photograph. After that it was saddle up and out onto the Main Rd. All went well for the first 100m until I looked behind me and saw - no-one! How could they have all got lost in the motel car park I wondered.
I very slowly pedalled to the Bairnsdale shops and waited for the others to join me. This was NOT a promising start. I had hoped that we could ride as a group all the way to Bruthen. This would give us valuable time for team bonding and mutual encouragement. I was especially concerned that our weakest team member seemed to be missing completely. Surely John could not have dropped out in the first km?
By 10 am I had finally again regrouped everyone and herded the peloton towards the start of the bike trail. As soon as Mal saw the trail he wanted to bolt. It took a stern reprimand to hold him back in the group.
The first 10 km of the trail is almost flat and is surfaced with smooth bitumen. To compensate for this unfair advantage some local louts had obviously been extremely busy breaking beer bottles every few metres. As we swerved from side to side, trying to avoid the heaviest concentrations of glass, it did force us to sharpen our reflexes and to shake off the last vestiges of sleep that some of our members still seemed to be enjoying.
Soon we were out of the glass zone and the pace started to increase slightly. Everyone was in high spirits, no doubt assisted in no small degree by the absolutely perfect riding conditions we were experiencing.
After crossing the long bridge over the Nicholson River the trail turns to a gravel surface. I was pleased to see that it seemed to be a little firmer that it was at this time last year. Although there are a few slight climbs we made excellent progress and even John was not far behind the real riders. Because of the appalling weather we had last year we had no real chance to enjoy the scenery, but this time we could admire the beautiful rolling green hills that we were riding through.
The ride to Bruthen presents no real challenges, apart from the navigational problem of trying to discern the correct trail into Bruthen. I think we all managed to arrive in the Main street by different routes, but we were eventually all safely resting on the wide grassy central park. With the support crew already sent ahead to Lakes Entrance we knew that we would face the first challenge - to get our OWN lunches.
Fortunately Bruthen is equipped with a couple of nice shops, including a bakery and a "gourmet delicatessen". I chose the latter and was (eventually) enjoying a large salad sandwich prepared by an attractive girl with the biggest hair I have seen for some years. The morning had gone well, but I well knew that the biggest challenges still lay ahead.
My decision to send the support crew on to Lakes Entrance also meant that John would not have the option to bail out of the remainder of the ride. If he didn't ride the remainder of the trail he would never get to Lakes Entrance. No wonder he looked a little worried as we headed off on the second leg of the expedition.
I knew from our last encounter with this trail that the first section is almost all uphill before we reach the summit in the Colqhoun Forest. The final 15 km or so being a fast downhill ride. We soon started to breathe faster as the slope increased and the surface was interspersed with sections of loose sand. Somewhat surprisingly we noticed that John was no more than a kilometre or so behind the rest of the peloton.
Mal, Duncan and Daryl were soon staging a sprint to the top of the ridge, aggressively being chased by the big South African hill climber. Cheryl and Donald were comfortably making good time while I was vainly exhorting the team to "maintain discipline".
At the top of the ridge, at a place aptly named "Siberia" we staged a game of discus with a very heavy slab of cast iron. We soon discovered how difficult it was to control the trajectory, with most attempts flying wildly into the scrub.
It was near this spot that we also met a youthful rider named Andrew. We were surprised to hear that he was yet another "closet reader" of our web site and already seemed to know all about the famed Warby Riders. He even knew that we were to be riding the trail that weekend and was apparently already looking out for us. It seems that when you as famous as we are, there is never any real escape from starstruck groupies.
Once the group had again rejoined, we were able to enjoy the much faster downhill section. Flying along the rough surface at 30 to 40 kph may have been dangerous, but it certainly got the blood racing. After some high jinks at the huge trestle bridge we attempted the steep climb up the other side of the gulley.
One by one we approached the vertiginous, slippery ascent but the only one to get to the top without complete loss of traction was Mal. My personal effort was less than glorious and I learned that wearing cleats on such a climb is NOT a great idea.
By the time we all rolled into Nowa Nowa in triumph, we knew that our primary objective had been attained. Mal, Duncan and Richard were so excited that they decided to ride back UP the slope and then ride down the back track to Lakes Entrance.
The rest of us took the much more sensible decision to continue down to Lakes Entrance by car and enjoy the remainder of the afternoon walking along the beach or resting in the shade. Arriving back at the motel I quickly discovered that we had again been "blessed" with another huge spa in our room. It is pleasing to see that rank does indeed have its priveleges. We were also able to renew our acquaintance with Noddy the Cockatoo.
One thing I was not prepared for, however, was the arrival of another cyclist wearing the proud colours of the Ghost Riders. Closer inspection soon revealed that it was none other than Peter, who had apparently caught the train down to Bairnsdale and then ridden from there to Lakes Entrance. I knew at once that those massive size 14 legs could come in mighty handy when we were to attempt the reverse traverse on the following day. Sporting a huge grin from ear to ear it was obvious that he was glad to be back with his riding mates.
The rest of the day was spent leisurely exploring Lakes Entrance and enjoying a cappucino overlooking the ocean. This is a lifestyle that I could quickly get used to (or maybe yet another manifestation of my mid-life crisis). On the way back to the motel we met a couple of young cyclists who were having a cycling holiday around Australia. While I chatted to the young Italian, Peter seemed more interested in his young, blonde, Swedish partner. "Gee she had nice legs", he later confessed. I personally had not noticed.
We had been booked into the Bowling Club for dinner at 7.45pm. As it turned out it was just as well we had a booking, because it looked as if the rest of the population had also turned up for dinner. The food was great and the live band was very loud. We had a favoured position, right in front of the speakers. Unfortunately the band turned out to be just another 70's cover band - not an original song in sight. After 30 minutes or so, most were ready to move to another (quieter) spot for coffee.
A few minutes later we all tramped into Pinnochios Restaurant for coffee and cake and soon we noisily disrupted all those trying to enjoy the quiet that had existed before our arrival. After a day of riding it is always essential to finish off with a load of food and lots of laughs. I was conscious not to get back to the motel too late - after all we still had a spa to enjoy.
With our team bolstered by another pair of enormous legs and with another fine day predicted for tomorrow I was able to retire to bed with a high degree of confidence that we would be able to succeed in our attempt at the, ever elusive, reverse traverse.
Dawn on Sunday revealed yet another perfect day. In fact the weather was so good, and some team member's testosterone levels were so high, that a few riders decided to ride from Lakes Entrance to the start of the trail at Nowa Nowa. Peter and Duncan led the early charge, closely followed by Mal and Richard.
Some of the women were also keen to get to Nowa Nowa, but for an entirely different (and far more sinister) reason. The Annual Nowa Nowa Nudist Display was in full flow and they were keen to be a part of it. For Stacey in particular, it was to be the highlight of her weekend.
Once the cars were packed and bills were paid we were on our way again. A few kilometres from Nowa Nowa we caught up with our advance party of cyclists, labouring up the challenging slope. I had no alternative but to drive up quietly behind them and then toot furiously (to give them some encouragement).
Once at the start of the trail the women rushed excitedly off to the Nudist Show while us more dedicated individuals prepared for the ride ahead - another 65 km of hilly and sandy terrain. The first short climb brings us back to the large tressle bridge. Peter and Daryl demonstrated classic cycling ineptitude by promptly crashing off their bikes and bloodying their legs. Not to be outdone, Peter excelled by crashing for a second time. He then went to rave about it being the "bike's fault". I had always suspected that Avanti Dealers were frustrated Cannondale Dealers who could not pass the entrance exam, and now he had confirmed it.
In spite of the accidents we all managed to finally exit the steep gulley and continue our journey. Most riders were still performing well, although John was starting to make some ominous noises (and not all from his mouth). There is no short cut up a long gradient, it is just best to find the best gear/cadence combination, put your head down and pedal. You do eventually reach the top.
With the Spring sunshine beating down on my head and John's familiar refrain of "Why do we do this?" in my ears it did seem to take a little longer to reach the summit and it was at about this time that I started to think I was hallucinating. Out of the distance came a rider heading towards us at a rapid pace. As he flashed by he covered his face with a large handkerchief. Somehow the figure looked awfully familiar.
"That's Bob", I yelled to the rest of the team. "No it's not", was the reply, "he's back in Melbourne". We rode on for another couple of minutes. "Are you sure it's not Bob?", I asked no-one in particular. Someone turned around to look behind us. "He's turned around", I was informed.
Soon we were overtaken by the mystery rider, who did in fact turn out to be Bob after all. He had driven down to Bairnsdale early in the morning just to ride with his mates. After a couple of minutes greeting he planted the crank and was soon out of sight, this time heading towards Bruthen.
Fortunately we were now all able to enjoy the frantic downhill section and it was not long before we were all happily rejoined with the support crew ready to share our lunch together. I headed back to the Delicatessen where I had enjoyed a great sandwich yesterday. Unfortunately the big haired girl was serving someone else and we apparently got the new apprentice instead. Almost 50 minutes later I eventually got my sandwich (not the one I ordered, but a sandwich nevertheless). I could only be glad that she was NOT working for me and getting paid by the hour. (Editors Note - Perhaps she could apply for a job at the world's slowest restaurant in Wangaratta).
By the time I got my lunch the rest of the team had already eaten and were waiting to leave for the final leg. I gulped down my lunch and organised everyone for a group photograph. We recruited a friendly guy called Don to take the picture so that everyone could be included. (Thanks Don - you are a champion).
Although I had exhorted everyone to stick together for the final section, by the time all riders found their way back to the trail we were already spread out over a couple of km. All hope of regaining a formed peloton seemed forlorn, although we did manage to get a few riders together for the final bitumen section. John was still turning over the cranks, although his face looked rather blank. I also suspected that Cheryl was starting to finally run out of puff, but Donald stayed behind to usher her safely into town.
Once everyone was finally gathered in the Main St, all that remained was for the final traditional visit to the ice cream shop for a final coffee of the weekend. I think all agreed that the expedition had been a fantastic success with all riders making the double traverse. It had also been a great surprise to have the unexpected visits from Peter and Bob. Will we do it all again in 2005? I suspect we will.
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Everyone gathered for lunch in the Main St of Bruthen
for lunch |
Expedition Damages and Disasters:
Punctures - Nil
Crashes - Peter (2), Daryl (1)
Thefts - none that we know of
Mechanical Problems - Nil
Number of Nudes viewed - over 50
Other Factors:
Organizational Standard - Excellent
Weather conditions - perfect