tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-371557762024-03-12T19:33:23.420-07:00Mountain Pedaler NZOllie shares his mountain biking adventures from Australia and around the worldOliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.comBlogger190125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-60309285478483438552016-02-10T14:06:00.000-08:002016-02-10T14:06:24.014-08:00Final Countdown to the Tour Aotearoa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TWfTmnVH-sI/Vrux4EtCDhI/AAAAAAAAKpw/rx7wx-i-IKQ/s1600/IMG_20160207_074720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TWfTmnVH-sI/Vrux4EtCDhI/AAAAAAAAKpw/rx7wx-i-IKQ/s400/IMG_20160207_074720.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Natural beauty in abundance on a recent shakedown ride</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In less than 10 days, a rag-tag group of bike packers will converge
on Cape Reinga with a single goal in mind; to eat sleep and ride their way to
Bluff. The route is a spawn of Jonathan Kennett’s work on the NZ Cycle Trails,
taking in the scenic highlights as it winds its way from north to deep-south.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When the idea was first mooted I was always going to be a
starter and now with the ride imminent my excitement has reached fever pitch.
While final preparations have had the pleasant distraction of a new baby Maxwell,
I’ve managed to stick loosely to my plan and pull everything together physically,
mentally and gear wise with a few days to spare. We’ve actually been blessed with Max’s 3-4 hour night sleep cycle,
but the 6 hour minimum stipulated for the Tour Aotearoa will luxurious by
comparison!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asefqHhnTX8/VruyN2JPdvI/AAAAAAAAKqA/KWIX46j2EJ8/s1600/IMG_20160207_074803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asefqHhnTX8/VruyN2JPdvI/AAAAAAAAKqA/KWIX46j2EJ8/s400/IMG_20160207_074803.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BLAAT (Bike leaning against a tree)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My bike setup has seen some incremental improvements from
the steed used in shorter rides such as the</span><a href="http://hunterracetrail.wordpress.com/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank"> Big Hurt</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> and </span><a href="http://www.cloudride1000.com/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Cloudride</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> here in Australia.
Some lightweight carbon aerobars have dropped half a kg of weight, and coupled
with curvy </span><a href="http://carverbikes.com/parts/cockpit/myti-carbon-handlebar/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Carver MyTi</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> bars give a range of hand positions to keep tingly
fingers to a minimum. A refined </span><a href="http://www.klite.com.au/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">K-lite</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> dynamo system will allow me to choose
between possum dazzling illumination or USB charging at the flick of a stem mounted
switch.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NCkhQxX0GS8/VruzmvHXQ2I/AAAAAAAAKqY/GhitSmPtW9M/s1600/IMG_20160207_074749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NCkhQxX0GS8/VruzmvHXQ2I/AAAAAAAAKqY/GhitSmPtW9M/s400/IMG_20160207_074749.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What the wind gets to see</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For tires I’ve gone with sketchy/fast </span><a href="http://www.maxxis.com/catalog/tire-490-tread-lite" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Maxxis Tread Lites</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">, and
I replaced some aging XT brakes and cranks with some shiny XTR stuff which will
probably only be shiny for the first few days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Newcastle’s <a href="http://www.bikebagdude.com/" target="_blank">Bike bag dude</a> has sewn up some uber-light bags
including the maiden ‘fast’ ride for a cavernous frame bag, allowing me to run
a huge bladder in lieu of bottles.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3eGMGXo4D4M/Vruz5J1ChPI/AAAAAAAAKqg/D0IbiytbqMU/s1600/IMG_20160207_074837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3eGMGXo4D4M/Vruz5J1ChPI/AAAAAAAAKqg/D0IbiytbqMU/s400/IMG_20160207_074837.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I get to see</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My trusty </span><a href="http://www.rohloff.de/en/products/speedhub/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Rohloff</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> internally geared hub remains with my
years of trying to kill it leaving no scars, while the </span><a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Ground Effect</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> clothing including cat/dog proof Anti-Cyclone and Exocet shorts wee always going to be first on my packing list.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Having been through the motions of a ride like this a few
times, my mental state has been relatively withdrawn, and only now as I pore of
cue sheets and ambitious daily itineraries does the enormity of the task at
hand sink in. While I’ve got some of the best form in recent memory over short
distances, I’m very much relying that I’ll settle into the old groove of long
days in the saddle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A unique challenge of the route is the requirement to string
together a number of ambitious distance goals early in the ride, and only if all
goes to plan will we be able to make the ferry sailings. Packrafting could be a
backup option but my kayak weighs more than my bike and gear combined so I’m
planning to take my chances with the
ferry!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-isHjV2oSryo/VruxcrTYeRI/AAAAAAAAKpk/W5Oh9CErmms/s1600/IMG_20151115_121727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-isHjV2oSryo/VruxcrTYeRI/AAAAAAAAKpk/W5Oh9CErmms/s400/IMG_20151115_121727.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pack rafting - not really an option for the Tour Aotearoa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To see how it all pans out keep an eye out on Instagram
</span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/whalleyollie/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">@whalleyollie</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> where I’ll endeavor to make regular posts, and you can track the
adventure at </span><a href="https://touraotearoa2016.maprogress.com/" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">https://touraotearoa2016.maprogress.com/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-84185335836634325642015-02-16T20:23:00.001-08:002015-02-17T12:55:40.820-08:00A USB Charge Chocolate Factory<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T4KAYB39Ngc/VOE-FGLiFUI/AAAAAAAAECk/SRKyrmSxwwc/s1600/IMG_20150213_075855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T4KAYB39Ngc/VOE-FGLiFUI/AAAAAAAAECk/SRKyrmSxwwc/s1600/IMG_20150213_075855.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Cockpit setup showing USB charger (silver), switch unit, light (Gold) and GPS.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Coles deli Kransky in Bike Bag Dude chaff bag is an optional extra.</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As some of you may be aware, I've been running <a href="http://www.klite.com.au/" target="_blank">K-lite</a> dynamo charge and lighting system for 2 years now, and after a number of refinements the system is now dialed enough that I feel the world should know about its awesomeness, largely because it makes endless riding possible. If only humans didn't need sleep and food. Lots of food.<br />
<br />
One of the foods I enjoy is chocolate, and for the purposes of this post, let's imagine the system as a chocolate factory, only staffed by one Ollie rather than an army of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qw0zZttfUaw" target="_blank">Oompa Loompas</a>.<br />
<br />
The options are endless and Kerry is always willing to indulge your desires, but this is the simple and sturdy setup which I've arrived at which suits my needs to tee.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iOgoXRMnFzI/VOK_6WpId0I/AAAAAAAAEKs/1d-Yam-XeNw/s1600/IMG_20150217_123022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iOgoXRMnFzI/VOK_6WpId0I/AAAAAAAAEKs/1d-Yam-XeNw/s1600/IMG_20150217_123022.jpg" height="400" width="385" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SP Dynamo hub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The chocolate heating boiler of the system is the proven SP Dynamo hub, sucking out a measly 3 watts and delivering AC power (melted chocolate) in spades. While light as a feather and world leading in efficiency, the hubs don't have replaceable bearings without a trip home to the factory. This means that when they finally do go, you'll need to rebuild a wheel. For me this is not a huge deal given my rim will likely be trashed at that stage due to frequent over the bars (OTB) excursions.<br />
<br />
A chocolate transmitting pipe in the form of a wire runs up your fork leg and connects to the molten chocolate diverting switch box which allows you to choose lighting, USB charge or neither. A plug at the hub allows for easy wheel removal. This switch delivers chocolate (electricity) to wherever you desire.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-STIa9vXgATc/VOLAgRNxFtI/AAAAAAAAELA/TJ9zjBdJcJw/s1600/IMG_20150217_123150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-STIa9vXgATc/VOLAgRNxFtI/AAAAAAAAELA/TJ9zjBdJcJw/s1600/IMG_20150217_123150.jpg" height="400" width="361" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dynamo wire coming up from the hub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sitting on my topcap is a <a href="http://www.sinewavecycles.com/collections/all/products/sinewave-cycles-reactor" target="_blank">Sinewave Reactor</a>, the brains of the system which takes the wildly varying flow of chocolate from the hub and makes a nice steady USB output (like a <a href="http://www.toblerone.com/us/" target="_blank">Toblerone</a>) which will charge your phone, GPS, a backup battery or even a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Brookstone-USB-Desktop-Missile-Launcher/dp/B004UTVVIM" target="_blank">desktop missile launcher</a> -a bikepacking essential!<br />
<br />
Through some Kiwi ingenuity, Kerry managed to integrate the reactor with the switch, making for a very tidy setup which means that no wires need to come up through the crown and up the bottom of the steerer tube. Solid crown carbon fork owners rejoice!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YIbdMj0NsP8/VOLANJeUuOI/AAAAAAAAEK4/GI6aBburFsQ/s1600/IMG_20150217_123142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YIbdMj0NsP8/VOLANJeUuOI/AAAAAAAAEK4/GI6aBburFsQ/s1600/IMG_20150217_123142.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Choose lights or USB function with this stem located switch. All wires pass outside the steerer.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After some difficulty finding a reliable buffer battery, I've ended up doing without and have found that the smooth output from the Reactor is sufficient. If the incessant 'External Power Lost' screen on my Garmin becomes too much, I simply switch the charger off and wait till my speed is up again.<br />
<br />
Using an <a href="https://buy.garmin.com/en-US/US/shop-by-accessories/mounts/out-front-bike-mount/prod114881.html" target="_blank">out-front Garmin mount</a>, I can get my Edge 800 GPS positioned well clear of the charger, and with a stubby USB cord I can get the current were it needs to be. Excess cord is simply taped to the stem.<br />
<br />
If I throw the switch the other way, the USB goes off and chocolate is transformed into a chocolaty sun-like spray of 1100 lumens of glorious LED light, which often sends kangaroos scampering. Having this much light on tap is fantastic especially during the late hours of the night when sleep monsters begin their reign of terror.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qn_pJzUao6g/VOLA2SnIijI/AAAAAAAAELI/0oO9sK4WyLY/s1600/IMG_20150217_123238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qn_pJzUao6g/VOLA2SnIijI/AAAAAAAAELI/0oO9sK4WyLY/s1600/IMG_20150217_123238.jpg" height="313" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Chocolaty lumens galore form the bar mounted light</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KbyWLoE8fCs/VOFC2B-SgMI/AAAAAAAAEDs/CJw6WTUzykw/s1600/IMG_20150215_104022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KbyWLoE8fCs/VOFC2B-SgMI/AAAAAAAAEDs/CJw6WTUzykw/s1600/IMG_20150215_104022.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kangaroos, wombats and sleep monsters all fear the 1100 lumen chocolaty mist</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A small cylindrical rectifier is all that is required for my single level setup (stored in my frame bag), but standlites and dimming switches can be added to give you the ultimate in lighting control. If the trail heads upwards and my fatigued legs can't muster more than the 7 km/h which the system starts to flicker at, I just switch the light off and rely on my helmet light. Switching it back on when the trail turns downhill.<br />
<br />
Running the system whilst on the trail is far from a chore, if anything it is a welcome relief during sections of dull trail. Provided you keep the GPS sufficiently charged, there really is nothing to told you back from endless riding.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MtBxVQRSDhI/VOFCmOic9OI/AAAAAAAAEDk/Qmjt_2MEHuA/s1600/IMG_20150215_113022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MtBxVQRSDhI/VOFCmOic9OI/AAAAAAAAEDk/Qmjt_2MEHuA/s1600/IMG_20150215_113022.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping your GPS charged avoids scenes like this</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now if only Kerry could get the system to make chocolate...<br />
<br />
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-32948871951350408522015-02-15T21:31:00.000-08:002015-02-16T01:52:44.657-08:00Blackheath to Campbelltown with two bikepacking noobs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DAzLnanv4sE/VOFkOMitN4I/AAAAAAAAEEc/V2a-NC-gc0I/s1600/IMG_20150215_121722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DAzLnanv4sE/VOFkOMitN4I/AAAAAAAAEEc/V2a-NC-gc0I/s1600/IMG_20150215_121722.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamie and Scott take in some natural beauty</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is nothing like sharing your passion with other like minded people, and this past weekend I had a chance to indulge in a weekend of riding in the Blue Mountains with some buddies who were bikepacking virgins. For Scott and Jamie it would be their first attempt at the pursuit. As kiwis on the wrong side of the ditch, they were eager to push the boat out and see a new part of their Australian home. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Scott or 'Diesel' as he is known for his tendency to chug along at a solid if not remarkable pace, could call upon experience in adventure racing including the sketchy early days of the Southern Traverse. Recently a family of three girls has limited his riding time so the weekend's ride was a nice chance to escape and feel the burn that only a long day in the saddle can bring. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-izBdkEj_H3Q/VOFkcnGV3UI/AAAAAAAAEEk/1Pe7zL8RLUI/s1600/IMG_20150214_125456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-izBdkEj_H3Q/VOFkcnGV3UI/AAAAAAAAEEk/1Pe7zL8RLUI/s1600/IMG_20150214_125456.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott acquaints himself with one of the joys of bikepacking: Gluttony</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jamie is a quintessential kiwi gadabout having climbed many mountains (literally) in NZ and abroad. Both had never strapped bags to their bikes and headed for the hills, but the weekend was a chance to rectify this oversight.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QY-F-DOukuQ/VOFkqX8_TqI/AAAAAAAAEEs/BviBXKKVuB0/s1600/IMG_20150214_125349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QY-F-DOukuQ/VOFkqX8_TqI/AAAAAAAAEEs/BviBXKKVuB0/s1600/IMG_20150214_125349.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamie gets amongst the lunch spread</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In what was possibly the most prepared I've ever been for a ride, the duo turned up on a Wednesday night, borrowing Heidi's <a href="http://www.bikebagdude.com/" target="_blank">Bike Bag Dude</a> gear and the <a href="http://www.freeload.co.nz/" target="_blank">Freeload rack</a> usually reserved for grocery duties amongst other items. They set about halving their gear, then halving it again to take their best stab at the comfort/exertion balance which defines every attempt at packing. I knew they were getting the hang of it when Scott asked if we were going to share chamois cream, before I suggested that this was perhaps a step too far.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One incongruity which became immediately apparent was our respective definitions of self sufficiency. At one end was my hard line view that each person should carry the stuff they needed to survive by themselves, a race hardened approach. Scott and Jamie on the other hand came from the care-bear school of sharing and caring, and my attitude softened particularly at the end of the day when I could offer some boiling water from my Kovea in exchange for a hearty serve of hot chocolate. Definitely a win-win.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-frLLo7Oz6dQ/VOFk7YtRIQI/AAAAAAAAEE4/qeVUQXVdW3A/s1600/IMG_20150211_211603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-frLLo7Oz6dQ/VOFk7YtRIQI/AAAAAAAAEE4/qeVUQXVdW3A/s1600/IMG_20150211_211603.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wednesday night packing herald new levels of organisation!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Boarding a Friday night train bound for Blackheath, we grabbed a pub-meal and rolled down to our accommodation for the night. Half expecting to be bivvying in a bunker on the golf course, Jamie had organised an exceptional hookup with his work colleagues' parents playing host in their beautiful home. The hospitality even extended to a cooked breakfast, and in telling them the definition of a trail angel (the bikepackers best friend), I needed to only point to our two gracious hosts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xkgx_LJFa6w/VOFkBiiOy8I/AAAAAAAAEEU/wQfomDz6UBQ/s1600/IMG_20150214_072631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xkgx_LJFa6w/VOFkBiiOy8I/AAAAAAAAEEU/wQfomDz6UBQ/s1600/IMG_20150214_072631.jpg" height="400" width="371" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackheath's very own trail angels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was with heavy stomachs that we left their home for the blast down to the six foot track. The smooth tar seal of the appropriately named Megalong Valley gave way to the roots and rocks of the trail, an entertaining mix of singletrack left ruffled by recent rains. The bumps served as an excellent test of gear stability, and after tightening straps and adjusting for the tractor like handling of a laden bike, we continued on to Cox's River.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I'd been across this waterway before it had been by wading through the river, but to up the ante we decided to traverse the swing bridge usually reserved for high waters. Floppier than a damp pancake, we wobbled and heaved our bikes across swearing to never do it again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0ufUxw2U9Bc/VOFoF8VGCTI/AAAAAAAAEFE/8z3R4fAg1Xw/s1600/IMG_20150214_093521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0ufUxw2U9Bc/VOFoF8VGCTI/AAAAAAAAEFE/8z3R4fAg1Xw/s1600/IMG_20150214_093521.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott hefts his steed across Cox's River</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What followed was a pinchy climb up the six foot track. Once a year this becomes crowded with runners who tackle its 42 km length, and it was apparent from the dribs and drabs of runners making their way through that the toughness of the course required practice. We were all a bit baffled about how such a dull route generated such excitement, but as we grinded our bikes upwards the only thoughts we could muster revolved around reaching the ridge. Fortunately it came and after a delightful roll down a swooping and switchbacked road, we made it Jenolan Caves for a zoo consisting of tourist buses and pre-teen longboarders intent on capturing the next viral You tube edit of their 'mad skills'.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IHo9A_zG3EE/VOFpXH2AUGI/AAAAAAAAEFQ/Z4AMW7y9Iq0/s1600/IMG_20150214_123703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IHo9A_zG3EE/VOFpXH2AUGI/AAAAAAAAEFQ/Z4AMW7y9Iq0/s1600/IMG_20150214_123703.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sifting at Jenolan caves</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After a lunch feast, we tackled the savage climb from Jenolan to Oberon, ascending some 600m in 5km, it required liberal use of granny gear to reach the satisfying summit. A long stretch of forest road and a drenching from a passing shower followed, and it was at this point that the enormity of the ride started to dawn on us. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not accustomed to many hours on his skimpy XC seat, Jamie butt was loudly protesting, while Scott's self proclaimed sprinter's legs still felt the wrath of the Jenolan climb. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cOqCFj3ztm4/VOFr2r7WgHI/AAAAAAAAEFc/1IKm6YBJheg/s1600/IMG_20150214_162501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cOqCFj3ztm4/VOFr2r7WgHI/AAAAAAAAEFc/1IKm6YBJheg/s1600/IMG_20150214_162501.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This log was more comfortable than his saddle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To make matters worse, a random unidentified object robbed the air from Scott's rear tire, but this stoppage served as an opportunity for Jamie to indulge in a well earned nap.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z9xkPh40QmI/VOFsD788YyI/AAAAAAAAEFk/Ips3uAHBdZA/s1600/IMG_20150214_162450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z9xkPh40QmI/VOFsD788YyI/AAAAAAAAEFk/Ips3uAHBdZA/s1600/IMG_20150214_162450.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott tends to his puncture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once back rolling the rain cleared and we plodded on, a fire road detour took us down a gnarly path to a creek, with the resulting hike back up a nice changed for tweaked quads. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-avL4wDS_Quc/VOFtNy6w0UI/AAAAAAAAEF4/CweqKomXy0g/s1600/IMG_20150214_165941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-avL4wDS_Quc/VOFtNy6w0UI/AAAAAAAAEF4/CweqKomXy0g/s1600/IMG_20150214_165941.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some gnarl late in the day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Finally making it Werong camp 110km in, we chose to camp for the night. A wise decision given that the ominous clouds chose to drop their load just as dark settled. After a dinner of dehydrated deliciousness, we went to bed dry and warm in our concrete shelter.<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F6rPfHVPjwQ/VOFuREAHnBI/AAAAAAAAEGE/pu9nUqr22_s/s1600/IMG_20150215_075535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F6rPfHVPjwQ/VOFuREAHnBI/AAAAAAAAEGE/pu9nUqr22_s/s1600/IMG_20150215_075535.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Werong - our dry oasis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Morning dawned and after promises of a rapid departure evaporated, we eventually rolled out into the cool haze of the morning. What followed on the road to Yerranderie was one of the highlights, a smooth ridegtop road with perfectly rollable vertical curves that egged you to pedal the downs, with the reward of coasting across the tops. The 45km to the ghost town of Yerranderie passed in a flash, and while we didn't explore in depth, we were in wonder at the audacity of trying to build a town in a place so remote.<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aWw76CZPsnM/VOFukTC6-rI/AAAAAAAAEGM/W6PxF6tXVZo/s1600/IMG_20150215_104236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aWw76CZPsnM/VOFukTC6-rI/AAAAAAAAEGM/W6PxF6tXVZo/s1600/IMG_20150215_104236.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All smiles at Yerranderie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, and while it was light on singletrack there was no shortage of breathtaking views and smooth roads. With a faffing to riding ratio drastically reduced compared with the first day, Jamie and Scott were clearly adapting to the game.<br />
<br />
On reaching our destination, it was a great pleasure to introduce them to the joys of ice cream, chocloate milk, Coke and schinitzel burgers in that order. While after a long day of riding the mental will was there, some stomach contraction made consumption of this feast difficult and resulted in a short nap being taken on the grass of the village green.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMFuJZburBk/VOF9vqMOsLI/AAAAAAAAEGc/_bzj9gVOWQg/s1600/IMG_20150215_165844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMFuJZburBk/VOF9vqMOsLI/AAAAAAAAEGc/_bzj9gVOWQg/s1600/IMG_20150215_165844.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post burger grass angels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A final tar seal pedal to Campbelltown and the adventure was over. Happy to be sitting on padded train seats we were treated to a largely empty carriage, no doubt due to the accumulated stench of two days riding. Scott and Jamie were tired but fizzing by the end of the ride, and hopefully they'll be keen for more adventures after memories of minor suffering have faded. They certainly made for great riding companions if only because we could relax and use the proper English which New Zealanders prefer (bro, cuz and eh were frequently heard). It was great to share the joys and agonies of a proper long ride with Soctt and Jamie and I sincerely hope it will be the first of many!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wPt5EWLaeLE/VOF94u8FLoI/AAAAAAAAEGk/XOS5k9mATis/s1600/IMG_20150215_182014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wPt5EWLaeLE/VOF94u8FLoI/AAAAAAAAEGk/XOS5k9mATis/s1600/IMG_20150215_182014.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stinky but smiling on the train home form Campbelltown</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-34462198564716170332014-12-11T14:38:00.000-08:002014-12-11T17:20:36.928-08:00Rohloff XL Brings New Levels of Phatness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WyPTFkwYx1A/VIoZGtEbVaI/AAAAAAAACkg/leDmNN8sco8/s1600/1511774_10152951465568701_1693613568248662213_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WyPTFkwYx1A/VIoZGtEbVaI/AAAAAAAACkg/leDmNN8sco8/s1600/1511774_10152951465568701_1693613568248662213_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ollie on a headland </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fat bikes have squashed a path through the biking world even
wider than the fluro-shorted bandits of Enduro. These trending, bulbous tired
beasts caught some by surprise and left even more perplexed. The appeal of a
heavier, slower more cumbersome bike is hard to explain, but one short ride
(link) was all I needed to get bitten by the fat biking bug. With supreme traction, momentum and the
ability to ride crazy terrain (like a sandy beach or straight up a set of 10
stairs) they offer a level of off trail adventure which is unparalleled.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KU3_diYCCvo/VIoZFGQNzJI/AAAAAAAACj4/4C17Jx5oG7E/s1600/10415703_10152951460898701_650868836239084495_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KU3_diYCCvo/VIoZFGQNzJI/AAAAAAAACj4/4C17Jx5oG7E/s1600/10415703_10152951460898701_650868836239084495_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Testing the easy range of the 'hoff up a steep pinch</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was a reasonably slow adopter, taking possession of my On-one
Fatty more than a year ago. In a short time I reduced the Shimano XT drivetrain
to a shadow of its former self. Floppy pivots and a flogged chain meant chain
suck began as soon as the mix of sand and water reached sub-optimum, which was
pretty much anytime I went riding on a beach. So while 5 p.s.i 100mm wide tires lapped up the sand, the failure of the drivetrain to impart
forward impetus meant I could only pedal when sand conditions were perfect, severely
limiting my fat bike enjoyment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72WSX4uS6qs/VIoZFxE_sOI/AAAAAAAACkI/ivGwc_7UaFs/s1600/10524653_10152951465213701_7032876498084698680_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72WSX4uS6qs/VIoZFxE_sOI/AAAAAAAACkI/ivGwc_7UaFs/s1600/10524653_10152951465213701_7032876498084698680_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sandy serenity</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The obvious solution to this is to run a single speed-un appealing
given the low range required, or ideally an internally geared hub, which till a
few months ago was as rare as unicorn tears. As a long time user of the Rohloff
hub for off-road riding, I dropped a line to the wizards in Germany and
encouraged them to develop something appropriately bomb proof, but they didn’t
let on that something was already in development.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5W_zjQwGKIM/VIoZHaqYsWI/AAAAAAAACk0/6Qz3j1QH8KQ/s1600/PA130239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5W_zjQwGKIM/VIoZHaqYsWI/AAAAAAAACk0/6Qz3j1QH8KQ/s1600/PA130239.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rohloff XL pre wheel build</span><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HA0LMeE4DQU/VIoZH9mMi8I/AAAAAAAAClA/rAxePXNVBTA/s1600/PA130241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HA0LMeE4DQU/VIoZH9mMi8I/AAAAAAAAClA/rAxePXNVBTA/s1600/PA130241.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So fat, it doesn't fit in the photo frame</span><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Imagine my surprise then when the truly monstrous Rohloff XL
was announced in 170mm spacing which would drop right into my Fatty. Through
some exceptional fortune my offer of testing services was accepted and after a
protracted wheel build I was rolling and ready for an ill-fated <a href="http://www.mountainpedalernz.blogspot.com.au/2014/10/adventures-dont-have-to-make-sense.html" target="_blank">Snowy Mountains adventure</a>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Since the Snowys, the
hub has started to bed in, and I’ve taken it on some great sandy adventures
where the ability to just pedal without fear of drivetrain disobedience has cranked
up the fun factor. Most recently I
headed out with Brad and Chad of <a href="https://hunterracetrail.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Hurt</a> fame, to map a route from Woy Woy to Newcastle for their new Fat Hurt
route.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V8mTAg3LX5k/VIoZGvUqqVI/AAAAAAAACkk/bvtDxvdMIxg/s1600/1418281124570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V8mTAg3LX5k/VIoZGvUqqVI/AAAAAAAACkk/bvtDxvdMIxg/s1600/1418281124570.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Brad tells us a story</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yKEVHE099-A/VIoZFHJJTiI/AAAAAAAACj8/D79ogHThvpQ/s1600/10364213_10152951461198701_650877202876969353_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yKEVHE099-A/VIoZFHJJTiI/AAAAAAAACj8/D79ogHThvpQ/s1600/10364213_10152951461198701_650877202876969353_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fat riders on the roll</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AzuXbJcOQ6c/VIoZF5X5wtI/AAAAAAAACkM/y6DvWan4XYE/s1600/10646642_10152951461613701_7055607987315882701_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AzuXbJcOQ6c/VIoZF5X5wtI/AAAAAAAACkM/y6DvWan4XYE/s1600/10646642_10152951461613701_7055607987315882701_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Organ rattling stairs</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AxZks4wnxY4/VIoZFwERogI/AAAAAAAACkQ/9kg7H4hh4fs/s1600/10647178_10152951461058701_7379120505456247061_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AxZks4wnxY4/VIoZFwERogI/AAAAAAAACkQ/9kg7H4hh4fs/s1600/10647178_10152951461058701_7379120505456247061_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fat bikes even go okay in the forest</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While slippery rooty descents and kidney rattling stairs made for interesting
trail obstacles, it was the sandy shore where the hub really shone. Running a
34 tooth sprocket with a 17 tooth cog, I had a nice low ratio which meant I
could churn through the sand with relative ease. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xPcqIx9po7U/VIoZFRzsCII/AAAAAAAACkA/Dhg6uYoDfmo/s1600/10303741_10152951465493701_8048990785092824917_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xPcqIx9po7U/VIoZFRzsCII/AAAAAAAACkA/Dhg6uYoDfmo/s1600/10303741_10152951465493701_8048990785092824917_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Where the magic happens</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A common complaint against the Rohloff is the heft, but in
the fat bike application where a single tube can weigh as much as an entire
29er wheelset, the increase in weight is barely noticeable and it never ceases to amaze me how it positively
responds to poorly timed shifts. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-onQsFKNZgE8/VIoZG0bF9bI/AAAAAAAAClg/I1puuxCgSmQ/s1600/8951_10152951465323701_9189132879624550648_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-onQsFKNZgE8/VIoZG0bF9bI/AAAAAAAAClg/I1puuxCgSmQ/s1600/8951_10152951465323701_9189132879624550648_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Chad and Ollie discuss tire pressures while awaiting beach rider's preferred fuel; fush and chups</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
As for durability, Chad who we rode with towards Newcastle is
running a Rohloff on his Surly Moonlander, and if the state of his frame is anything
to go by it hasn’t seen a great deal of love. His favored riding shoes are
jandals (or pluggers), and the reason for this is obvious when you see Chad
huffy toss his bike into the sea to circumvent an untraversable waterway. Rust
pinholes and a hobo-chic patina on the frame have me fearing for the steel
frame’s life, but the Rohloff just keeps on ticking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;">I only hope to be able to log enough adventures on my hub to
do the supreme durability justice, and given Australia’s proliferation of sand
I’m probably in the right place!</span><br />
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><i>Thanks to Brad for the photos!</i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-18445760409006705482014-12-08T21:34:00.000-08:002014-12-09T18:44:17.044-08:00Hiking: Not that bad.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o8kI-Va3tH8/VIaDB_yv52I/AAAAAAAACio/NEuV3qZbR9Y/s1600/PB300283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o8kI-Va3tH8/VIaDB_yv52I/AAAAAAAACio/NEuV3qZbR9Y/s1600/PB300283.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie points a stick at a waterfall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
With Heidi and my holiday stars aligning, we chose to
indulge in a two day adventure to explore somewhere new around our Australian
home. More than ever before, the
deliberation over where to adventure dragged on, with the process a journey in
itself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After 4 years of adventuring together, Heidi has grown weary of missions which I hastily label as easy, and after experiencing a
joyous weekend of hiking with some girlfriends a few months back, she had a
hankering for some more type-1 fun adventure. These consist of only pleasurable
activities with no excessive exertion, at odds with the type-2 fun plagued by
difficulty, risk and pain which I tend to favour.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Acknowledging the need for a compromise, I embraced the
concept of type-1 fun and we set about plotting our weekend plans. As the days
ticked down we considered bike touring from Bathurst, an off road bike pack
along the 6 foot track to Jenolan caves, and even a last minute flight to
Cairns, Alice Springs or Darwin. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Carrying some bruised knees from a particularly enduro huck to rock (enduro because I was
wearing a <a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/product/SUM/MED" target="_blank">colourful top</a>), the prospect of slogging up or down hills with
a heavy pack didn’t hold as much appeal as a ride, but the absence of a route
with type-1 friendly distances meant it was a hike or a weekend of housebound
misery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Our last minute decision to walk from Blackheath to Acacia
Flat meant we didn’t get a chance to print the route instructions, but backups
on a phone and GPS meant we could find the route if we became geographically misplaced.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-plUzMAA4RJ4/VIaDOxo6DKI/AAAAAAAACiw/teMhHwip_Wc/s1600/PB290244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-plUzMAA4RJ4/VIaDOxo6DKI/AAAAAAAACiw/teMhHwip_Wc/s1600/PB290244.JPG" height="282" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi begins the adventure at the Mosman ferry terminal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A pleasant ferry and train journey and we were off on our merry way, descending
from Evan’s Lookdown into the cool humidity of the gully below, so enthralled
by the moss covered scenes that we bowled right past the turnoff to Acacia Flat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oT-JRK3xdHg/VIaDkqAgl-I/AAAAAAAACi4/-2sIJ3h-bhI/s1600/PB290256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oT-JRK3xdHg/VIaDkqAgl-I/AAAAAAAACi4/-2sIJ3h-bhI/s1600/PB290256.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Historic hand hewn steps through the canyon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Trundling on, we gaped at the chasms of the Blue Mountain’s very own
grand canyon, which was just like the real one only much smaller. Waterfalls
over the track made for refreshing stops, while off to the side of the tracks
we saw speleological enthusiasts lowering themselves into the dark caverns
below.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7_WZvJQyR3c/VIaE9WDuwVI/AAAAAAAACjE/SA6m7p3geew/s1600/PB290257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7_WZvJQyR3c/VIaE9WDuwVI/AAAAAAAACjE/SA6m7p3geew/s1600/PB290257.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie ponders the steps ahead</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It wasn’t until we’d hiked out the other side of the canyon
that we realized we’d erred, the GPS failing to get a signal through the narrow
canyon opening, and signage proving sparser than we’d hoped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Backtracking, we accepted that we’d get to know the canyon
just a little bit better, and on reaching the turnoff we kicked ourselves for
having hastily passed the obscured signs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Descending down washed out tracks, the route took on the
feel of a gnarled bush trail, with rock clambering and tree swinging making for
pleasant relief on my weak cyclist’s knees. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Reaching the river flat Heidi spied a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyrebird" target="_blank">lyrebird</a>, and adding
this to the snakes and lizards which we’d already seen, our critter count was
racking up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oaDmjlV2IFU/VIaFP0bOMkI/AAAAAAAACjM/CMlnly59cYY/s1600/PB300272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oaDmjlV2IFU/VIaFP0bOMkI/AAAAAAAACjM/CMlnly59cYY/s1600/PB300272.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A staunch lizard suns itself</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A final stroll along the flat took us two a beautiful campsite
where we set up a stove and set about indulging our favourite hiking sin; gluttony.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JezRexPyoE/VIaFf0gTKCI/AAAAAAAACjU/G83zCNU3aSk/s1600/PB290264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JezRexPyoE/VIaFf0gTKCI/AAAAAAAACjU/G83zCNU3aSk/s1600/PB290264.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The post dinner feast view </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Sleep came easily and in the morning we did the reverse,
branching off at junction rock for a long climb back to Govett’s leap. While
both of us were initially stiff, the heat of the day saw limbs loosened up, and
only when fatigue set in on the long drag along Pope’s Glen Walk to Blackheath did
the spring in our step become saggy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6hA_zFdpRhQ/VIaFzZXnzNI/AAAAAAAACjc/b4gpZt5w9tM/s1600/PB300286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6hA_zFdpRhQ/VIaFzZXnzNI/AAAAAAAACjc/b4gpZt5w9tM/s1600/PB300286.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some serious stair action made ascending the cliff a doddle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Dragging weary limbs onto the platform at Blackheath, we inhaled
the remainder of our food and contemplated our failed efforts at a type-1
weekend. Despite our best efforts we’d
been lost and got sore, which is how a good type-2 adventure usually ends up
anyway. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AQxLRPxBfFo/VIaGC3tO4XI/AAAAAAAACjk/NEbQ-7OuWrs/s1600/PB300280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AQxLRPxBfFo/VIaGC3tO4XI/AAAAAAAACjk/NEbQ-7OuWrs/s1600/PB300280.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Views to suffer for</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
While I was immediately satisfied, it took a week of recovery and some hilarious
stiff legged hobbling around the house before Heidi could reflect on the adventure
in a positive light. We’d experienced a beautiful part of the world and far
from discouraging our pursuit of type-1 fun, we’ve started a list so that when
the next opportunity arises we’ll have some options ready to roll (or stroll)!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1Blackheath NSW 2785, Australia-33.6356669 150.28533719999996-33.7414279 150.12397569999996 -33.529905899999996 150.44669869999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-75519283262126369002014-10-09T02:22:00.004-07:002014-10-09T02:31:15.828-07:00Adventures don’t have to make sense<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9QbtpTS9ob4/VDZJeOEpbkI/AAAAAAAACd4/lhyFZs_H8go/s1600/P9280259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9QbtpTS9ob4/VDZJeOEpbkI/AAAAAAAACd4/lhyFZs_H8go/s1600/P9280259.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Bullock's hut</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It dawned on my during a particularly rough patch of
hike-a-bike on last weekend’s trip to the Snowy Mountains that adventures don’t
need to make rational sense. In fact, the opposite is often true.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Leaving Sydney with my good friend Ross at 6PM, we stopped
only to fuel up on double-meat meatball subs. Having not driven at highway
speed for some time, least of all at night, the journey was a rush. Thankfully
Ross took the wheel of his Subaru and he weaved his way through herds of
wombats on the final stretch to Lake Crackenback.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We proceeded to fumble around on the dark trails searching
for <a href="http://www.khuts.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=64:bullocks-hut&catid=64:hut-information&Itemid=107" target="_blank">Bullock’s hut</a>, located at a GPS waypoint I’d marked in a high rise
building in Sydney, a world away. Fortunately it turned out to be where the
internet had told us, and even more fortunately the historic hut was unlocked,
providing warm haven away from the frosty mountain air which was settling
outside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This is what night looks like after six hours of bleary eyed
Friday evening driving to a place we’d never been. This was adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-_0T04j4Ok/VDZJ7w9WVUI/AAAAAAAACeA/yFQ3ru52gTY/s1600/2014-09-26%2B17.11.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-_0T04j4Ok/VDZJ7w9WVUI/AAAAAAAACeA/yFQ3ru52gTY/s1600/2014-09-26%2B17.11.12.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Curling up in our fart sacks staring up at the wooden
ceiling, we went to bed by putting the uncertainty of the journey ahead on hold,
knowing that whatever the mountains would throw at us, we could only do our
best.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
On waking in the morning, my excitement at opening the green
wooden door to reveal the vista we’d arrived at sight unseen was palpable. The
thin strips of morning sun outlining the door gave way to a beautiful scene
that made our seemingly irrational toils to get to the mountains worthwhile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Waking up to this was adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X_mrFHyNq9A/VDZKi6YRCHI/AAAAAAAACeM/RFH5qI0PBbM/s1600/P9280260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X_mrFHyNq9A/VDZKi6YRCHI/AAAAAAAACeM/RFH5qI0PBbM/s1600/P9280260.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bridge where our journey began</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
My ill-conceived plan, which rivaled even <a href="http://michisadventures.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Michi Speck's</a> for sheer half-bakedness, was to bash our way up and over a ridge,
crossing from the Thredbo to Perisher Valleys. We’d then link up with some of
the cross country skiing trails and head for the geographically misplaced
<a href="http://khuts.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=189:seamans-hut&catid=64:hut-information" target="_blank">Seaman’s hut</a> past Charlotte’s pass, and deep within the Mt Kosciusko
Park.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ross, who should take no responsibility for the trailless
gong-show which ensued, had decided to join in. We’d brought our fat bikes in a
last ditch attempt to ride the snow before a spring induced phase change took
it on its own adventure to the Pacific Ocean.
The internet tells us that fat bikes are perfectly capable for riding on
snow, and after only experiencing sand and trail we were keen to verify these
far-fetched claims.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MkptrNq4Z-I/VDZLKqzGuiI/AAAAAAAACeU/RnHZOtcrA_k/s1600/P9270234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MkptrNq4Z-I/VDZLKqzGuiI/AAAAAAAACeU/RnHZOtcrA_k/s1600/P9270234.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ross readies his bike of fatness</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The adventure began with a sneaky crossing of the rail
bridge, following the Ski Tube line up to its tunnel portal, then entering
the jungle on the bank above. My limited planning had involved scoping the
route online; revealing a 3 km straight line to the trails which I was
confident we could knock off in an hour. How wrong I was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWEuCtbwhj8/VDZNkJArrWI/AAAAAAAACeo/iyAa9W0KEkE/s1600/Capture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWEuCtbwhj8/VDZNkJArrWI/AAAAAAAACeo/iyAa9W0KEkE/s1600/Capture.JPG" height="281" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our ill fated journey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What began as an ironic laugh inducing carry through knee
high scrub, become a nightmarish thicket of woods which could only be
penetrated through a combination of branch snapping, clambering and profanity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6gMur6MZRzc/VDZOD3RN27I/AAAAAAAACew/k72dBw2IRzQ/s1600/P9270236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6gMur6MZRzc/VDZOD3RN27I/AAAAAAAACew/k72dBw2IRzQ/s1600/P9270236.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beer and skittles to start<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KV1BgdMZ8oE/VDZRRdLnjKI/AAAAAAAACfY/CSc8iK1cHMQ/s1600/2014-09-27%2B02.13.21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KV1BgdMZ8oE/VDZRRdLnjKI/AAAAAAAACfY/CSc8iK1cHMQ/s1600/2014-09-27%2B02.13.21.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pEC1pUajjg4/VDZO4-aFI7I/AAAAAAAACe8/bP-ljuiCYAM/s1600/P9270240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pEC1pUajjg4/VDZO4-aFI7I/AAAAAAAACe8/bP-ljuiCYAM/s1600/P9270240.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the proper carry ensued...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After 3 hours and less than 500m progress, upside-down
frowns became inverted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The carrying techniques we adopted certainly wouldn’t be
found on <a href="http://www.theunknownrider.com/" target="_blank">internet cycle tip websites</a>, dragging and
throwing our fat tired steeds with little regard for paint finish nor hydraulic
hose integrity. I’d opted to stash gear in a back pack, which proved to be less
cumbersome than Ross’s bike-packed Moonlander. On offering assistance it was
apparent that his steed weighed at least one million moon units. Navigating the
bush with these bikes was equal in awkwardness to carrying a fine Elizabethan
era chest of draws around an army assault course.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Battered and bruised by the ordeal, we sat on a tangle of
twigs in a rare clearing and dug into our rations. We’d learnt the hard way
that up to 1800m elevation, Australia’s mountains are without the alpine scrub which
can be a saving grace in New Zealand. With no clear terrain to measure our
progress, and only the recurring nightmare ahead, we made the decision to cut
our losses and return to the valley.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
While defeated, the prospect of leaving the hellish bush
buoyed us, and retracing our GPS track we wrestled and tossed our bikes down
the slope, using the slopes distance advantage to full effect. In forty minutes
we were back at the tunnel portal and ecstatic, not even a flat tire could
deflate the joy of return to the known and comfortable realm of ridable trail.
We’d had an adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TyS3wYRCdQo/VDZTomweGEI/AAAAAAAACgA/dI5psuVlOpc/s1600/P9270246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TyS3wYRCdQo/VDZTomweGEI/AAAAAAAACgA/dI5psuVlOpc/s1600/P9270246.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ross restores positive inflation</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
On return to Bullock’s Hut we found a network of smooth
trails which while lame under normal circumstances, became a heavenly ribbon of
single track; a metaphorical ice-pack for our bush bruised egos. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I7WisE74PqE/VDZP6lP9W0I/AAAAAAAACfI/EJUTSsT8A40/s1600/P9270249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I7WisE74PqE/VDZP6lP9W0I/AAAAAAAACfI/EJUTSsT8A40/s1600/P9270249.jpg" height="293" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No Segways = Hardcore</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FKTVJ-aJNtI/VDZQviO8zFI/AAAAAAAACfQ/fMoYnKc9fYs/s1600/2014-09-27%2B05.23.45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FKTVJ-aJNtI/VDZQviO8zFI/AAAAAAAACfQ/fMoYnKc9fYs/s1600/2014-09-27%2B05.23.45.jpg" height="331" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Jumping back in the Subaru we drove the road to Perisher and
scampered up at the first snowy slope we could find. At this late stage of the
day there only slush remained and any
attempts to control direction or speed were met with a face full of snow, which
was hilarious (at least for those watching). Turns out that you need crisp
early morning snow to make any kind of progress on fat bikes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oXEV3fAb6Dk/VDZRwK6TABI/AAAAAAAACfg/nMLQZgW0wZY/s1600/2014-09-27%2B07.38.34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oXEV3fAb6Dk/VDZRwK6TABI/AAAAAAAACfg/nMLQZgW0wZY/s1600/2014-09-27%2B07.38.34.jpg" height="233" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ross eats a snow sandwhich</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XMggHBjP3YY/VDZSkAsHwuI/AAAAAAAACf0/vDM1xshXspU/s1600/P9270253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XMggHBjP3YY/VDZSkAsHwuI/AAAAAAAACf0/vDM1xshXspU/s1600/P9270253.jpg" height="366" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slushy snow proved super sketchy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5tOTuK2Qa_M/VDZUpfROxAI/AAAAAAAACgI/tDgAxHFt0p4/s1600/2014-09-27%2B07.43.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5tOTuK2Qa_M/VDZUpfROxAI/AAAAAAAACgI/tDgAxHFt0p4/s1600/2014-09-27%2B07.43.52.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For two seconds,Ollie keeps the rubber down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Looking on the bright side, the cool snow was a literal
salve for out stick battered shins, and with the drive to the lacklustresw we’d
saved ourselves the disappointment of slaving up a mountain with no reward.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lying awake waiting for sleep back at Bullock’s Hut that
evening, I contemplated the nature of our adventure, and how despite being
dealt an embarrassing lesson by Mother Nature, I was filled with a warm
contentment. We’d failed to complete the route we’d planned, and failed to ride
properly on snow. But we were still out there trying something new, some of it
that no one else would have done before, and this I feel is the essence of a
good adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-56475203792400152392014-09-04T01:23:00.000-07:002014-09-04T01:40:06.465-07:00Ups and Downs at the Dirty 600<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WcAZVO1QvS0/VAgdQhTp_LI/AAAAAAAACbA/ed4uRytmexw/s1600/sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WcAZVO1QvS0/VAgdQhTp_LI/AAAAAAAACbA/ed4uRytmexw/s1600/sunrise.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over Cessnock - Reason enough to get involved</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With the tingly fingers and blackened
toenails from April’s <a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/blog/2/219/cloudride" target="_blank">Cloudride</a> finally subsiding, the itch had returned
and I was well overdue for another bikepacking adventure, if only to break the daily
monotony of a blustery Sydney existence.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Since moving from New Zealand to Australia
two years ago, I’ve been raving to boyhood chum Tristan about the great
bikepacking on offer, particularly in New South Wale’s Hunter Valley. When a
gap in his hectic native bird-rescuing schedule opened up, some cheap trans Tasman
airfares sealed the deal and he was on a plane bound for Sydney, with adventure
bound to ensue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xx_yknOvdgQ/VAgdg1ig4OI/AAAAAAAACbI/lRUHHi6BH98/s1600/happy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xx_yknOvdgQ/VAgdg1ig4OI/AAAAAAAACbI/lRUHHi6BH98/s1600/happy.jpg" height="400" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elated post-ride Tristan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We’d grown up riding and racing together in
Nelson and were pretty good mates, but our bromance was afflicted by the
tyranny of distance so more than anything else I was looking forward to
spending a good few days catching up with Tristan. In the past our rides together ended inevitably
with broken bikes, scraped knees and the dull lactic pain that can only come
from repeated full noise sprints.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">With the belly of my own life and work
swelling with busyness, riding has taken a stoker seat so I was bracing for
some old fashioned punishment at the legs of Tristan. He was coming off a holiday
at the Alaskan Singlespeed/debauchery World Championships then a tonne of riding
in the Canadian Rockies, so his usual ferocious pace would be even more so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Tristan arrived on a Friday afternoon to
the same weather which had been dampening Sydney for weeks, frequent soggy
downpours and a cool blustery breeze that made the prospect of four days in the
wilderness less than attractive. Up till
this point we’d decided to ride the infamous <a href="http://hunterracetrail.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Big Hurt</a>, a 750km
bikepacking loop heavy with bike carry and leeches. The sheer physical and
mental misery I’d been through riding the course last year had forced me to revaluate
my passion for bikepacking. But as always seems to happen, the memories faded
and when we were running through ride ideas the Hurt came out on top. Laden
with single track, the course would have taken us through some remote and
critter heavy parts of NSW for Tristan’s first Australian wilderness
experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Fortunately we reconsidered our position. Thoughts
of slick leaf litter laden slopes where one step forward would have resulted in
two back (not to mention falling on ones face) steered us towards a less
extreme option. As luck would have it, the Hunter’s very own GPX Gandalf (Brad
Mertens) had wizzarded up a worthy loop called the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/473976246069944/" target="_blank">Dirty 600</a>, six hundred odd
kilometres of road and singletrack which avoided the hike-a-bike that had
earned the Hurt its fearsome reputation. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-NZ"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6lzVw-MQPm0/VAgeyU_L3aI/AAAAAAAACbU/zuOi7XboRYQ/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6lzVw-MQPm0/VAgeyU_L3aI/AAAAAAAACbU/zuOi7XboRYQ/s1600/images.jpeg" height="299" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Brad Mertens in 10 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Loading the files onto our Garmins the
night before, we added some last minute revisions to divert around an irate farmer,
and were all set for our adventure.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SQVtg0vT0zk/VAgfHynzzbI/AAAAAAAACbc/_Vra6XcrEzE/s1600/Train%2Bstart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SQVtg0vT0zk/VAgfHynzzbI/AAAAAAAACbc/_Vra6XcrEzE/s1600/Train%2Bstart.jpg" height="400" width="367" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All aboard the train and ready for adventure!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of the great things about riding in the
Hunter is that so much of it is accessible by train, except when the train
breaks down and forces one to stand in the rain waiting for a replacement. About
an hour from our destination Morissett, we contemplated the ride but were not
keen to say goodbye to the relative warmth and dryness of the train and station
too early. Fortunately the wait was short and before we knew it we were rolling
out on the course, Gandalf himself coming all the way from Middle-Wangi to show
us the way to Coorangbong.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-NZ">It begins... (Day 1)</span></b><span lang="EN-NZ"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Starting with a gentle road climb into the
Watagans (which by the third time, some 560 kilometres into the ride, would became
the Notagains) the sunshine which had blessed the start of our ride gave way to
a misty vapour that forced us to pedal harder and don my <a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/product/RAI/ANT" target="_blank">Anti-cyclone</a>.
This first part of the ride was punctuated by climbs followed by short descents,
forming undulating ridge roads which set the rhythm for the rest of the ride.
Dropping down into Wyong it was sunny again and joining the trail up to Mangrove
Mountain the puddles were ever present. Soon our bikes were slathered in fine
particles of clay, a paste which migrated from trail to every part of our body
and even via drink bottles into our mouths. Not even the delicious taste of home
in the form of an Em’s Power Cookie bar could flush out the gritty sensation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XGWHUkjwrW4/VAgfTnjNT-I/AAAAAAAACbk/B8A3ByVdyN4/s1600/muddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XGWHUkjwrW4/VAgfTnjNT-I/AAAAAAAACbk/B8A3ByVdyN4/s1600/muddy.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rohloff hub cared less about the mud than I did</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A welcome stop at the Mangrove Mountain store
allowed Tristan to overhear some quintessential Aussie banter, with locals
discussing the prospects of weekend festivities, a lingo laiden diatribe that
left us in hysterics. Before we could further investigate the culture we were
barked out of town by some rowdy blue heelers, a breed Tristan is familiar with
as it is the same as his Dusky, the dog made famous in the <a href="http://duskydogbloggerlogger.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">dusky dog blog</a>.</div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cPk9ueme0oI/VAghEwwITgI/AAAAAAAACcU/S2TUZFGZVxk/s1600/Dogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cPk9ueme0oI/VAghEwwITgI/AAAAAAAACcU/S2TUZFGZVxk/s1600/Dogs.jpg" height="361" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who let the dogs out?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Buoyed by the pies and chiko
rolls of the stop we rolled through strangely boggy Upper Mangrove and onto the
Convict trail, determined to make it Wisemans Ferry before sunset. I’d recalled
this section from the Hurt and was overjoyed that I could share it with
Tristan, the rocky steps and convict hewn trail becoming increasingly gnarly in
the failing light. Boarding the Wiseman’s Ferry in the proper dark, we were
carried to the warm bistro across the road, and while the generous portions
delighted our hearty bikepacker’s appetites, they failed to comprehend our need
for takeaway food, proffering a quiche and cookies in a huge polystyrene
containers. Fortunately some spare ziplock bags did the trick, although they
didn’t prevent Tristan’s quiche from becoming pureed.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e_FCFSI3KyY/VAgffFuJq8I/AAAAAAAACbs/b57wpJAoOSw/s1600/Dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e_FCFSI3KyY/VAgffFuJq8I/AAAAAAAACbs/b57wpJAoOSw/s1600/Dinner.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tristan gets stuck into his dinners at Wisemans ferry</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Rolling out to the Upper Colo Campground,
we were escorted by Rosco and Gandalf who as instigators of the route were keen
to see its effects in person. Tristan and I didn’t have to pretend to be stoked
with the trail so far, and as we bivied up to the sound of grunting Koalas and
the serene backing track of our fellow camper’s offensively loud dubstep we were eager to see what else was in store.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><i>Morissett to Upper Colo, 188km, 11 hours,
1707m climbing. Critters of note: Lyrebird, Kookaburra, Koala.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-NZ">And
continues (Day 2) ...<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Some minor bathroom related dalliances
aside, the second day started smoothly with an invigorating climb to the ridge
then more undulating roads and a descent to the Hawkesbury River.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Probably the dullest part of the route, the
proceeding rolling roads swayed back and forwards up the valley past
picturesque cows, churches, spitting us out at the historic St. Albans pub. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-56P5RvYIWlI/VAglOqBP5yI/AAAAAAAACcg/mHax_Evnlz4/s1600/Large%2Bserving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-56P5RvYIWlI/VAglOqBP5yI/AAAAAAAACcg/mHax_Evnlz4/s1600/Large%2Bserving.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Large servings in St. Albans bring bikepackers all the way from NZ</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A
breakfast of epic proportions ensued, with bacon, eggs and man sized toast
doused in enough butter to lube our screeching chains. While we’d missed the
lamb shanks of the previous night the breakfast was more than fitting of the
day ahead. More mellow rolling roads took us up into the hills behind Wollombi,
with motivation starting to wane we hit a gnarly descent that got the stoke
going.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vCb0yciNadc/VAgfsjc7n0I/AAAAAAAACb0/gP9wg5WEZdk/s1600/water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vCb0yciNadc/VAgfsjc7n0I/AAAAAAAACb0/gP9wg5WEZdk/s1600/water.jpg" height="278" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dubious water source which may have caused digestive malfunction</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Dirty 600 was not without its own
Hurt-like idiosyncrasies, with Brad throwing in a ‘for shits and giggles’ loop
up the Boree track to get the kilometre’s and vistas up. It ended up being a fantastic
section of trail with the hills just short enough for momentum to be carried. However
it was at this point when a cruel digestive ailment struck me mid pedal stroke.
Dropping my bike and dashing for the bush with toilet paper in hand, I cursed
the evil microbes that had rendered my bacon breakfast to liquid. Taking my
time to make sure my stomach was settled we set off again feeling decidedly average,
not even the high speed 84km/h run to the Wollombi valley could lift my
spirits. Stopping at the store then the pub I picked at a hearty evening meal
with surprising disinterest. My digestive disconnect provided mixed feedback to
my normally over ambitious gullet. Taking my time I managed to get through most
of it, and saddling up again we headed for what we hoped would be our final
camp.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Shortly after loudly proclaiming the
lameness of Australian hills in comparison to the steep cols of Banks
Penininsula (especially as arranged in the <a href="http://lepetitebrevet.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Petite Brevet</a>), the road
pinched upwards into the sky. Only the small illuminated patch of our
headlights kept us from seeing the soul destroying climb ahead of us, and so we
stayed on our bikes, winching our bikes up the road, knees and crank bolts
creaking all the way. Passing a wombat rescue centre we chose a flat spot and
bivied for the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><i>Upper Colo to Pokolbin State Forest, 215km,
12 hours, 3371m. Critters of note: Wombat, Deer, Owl. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-NZ">The final Countdown (Day 3)...<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">After an early and chilly night, we packed
up our camp and wolfed down a packet of Oreos each to fuel us for the descent
to Cessnock. Starting up high we’d wrapped up warm, but as the inevitable ridge
pinches hit we stripped off layers and stuffed them back in our bags. After a
short section of rocky singletrack we picked up speed on the descent, only to
execute some high speed swerves to dodge some startled Kangaroos who chose a path
through our front spokes as the path of least resistance. Hearts racing, they
settled as we re-joined tarseal and took in the awesome sunrise which was
happening over a mist shrouded Cessnock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iJavuhhIgyM/VAggKYdE5GI/AAAAAAAACb8/p-JGkRWn6L4/s1600/sunrise1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iJavuhhIgyM/VAggKYdE5GI/AAAAAAAACb8/p-JGkRWn6L4/s1600/sunrise1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunshine over a misty Cessnock</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not ones to dwell on such niceties, we dove
down the hill and into the mist, heading straight for McDonalds where the
greasy McMuffins were just as welcome as the warm seats and bathroom sink
shower. Turns out the hyper-processed mush had reawakened my appetite which had
thrown a wobbly after the digestive malfunction of the previous day. With sun
starting to emerge we headed for Kurri Kurri, a combination of back roads and
railway track taking us to a park which made for a perfect chamois cream
application opportunity for Tristan, whose tired brain now considered the
indecency socially acceptable. He has since apologised to any children or old
ladies who may have been offended.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XFyADUjY9vY/VAggaLf32EI/AAAAAAAACcE/KXIJUPObri0/s1600/chamois%2Btime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XFyADUjY9vY/VAggaLf32EI/AAAAAAAACcE/KXIJUPObri0/s1600/chamois%2Btime.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tristan discretely applies cream in a Kurri Kurri park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shredding through more twisty moto trail amongst
piles of consumerist detritus was a new experience for Tristan, and one that
left him perplexed given the multitude of garbage collection options available.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Before long we were pointed upwards and
sweating hard, grinding up into the Notagains for the final time. Crossing the
course where we’d headed for Wyong was a great milestone which was capped off
with the heavenly Coke, pies and slices of the Cooranbong bakery. This time
Ollie offended some older patrons by scraping mud from his bike onto the
footpath and letting out a load profanity laden proclamation that his chain was stuffed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Heading out for the final stretch, we began
singing ‘final countdown’, a cola fuelled ding-dong battle ensued as we circled
the Eralong power station. neither of us could break the other and the spirit
of congeniality returned for the spin around Morisset Peninsula to the finish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><i>Pokolbin State Forest to Morisset, 189km, 11.5
hours, 2621m. Critters of note: Bison, Goanna, Fox, Snake, Millions of
Kangaroos.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><b>In summary...</b></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">Rolling into Morisset after 55 hours of
riding, sleeping and eating we were both struck with how pleasant a bikepacking
ride could be with fine company and without the red haze that comes part of racing.
I’d enjoyed the Dirty 600 more immensely, and while a strong willpower was
required to resurrect sleepy limbs form the padded train seat for our short
ride home, my body and mind came out the other end refreshed rather than
drained. Our relatively fresh state was a sure testament to the fact that we’d matured
to the point where we no longer saw the need to crush each other every ride, or
maybe we were just getting old!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EFDUtKAmEvI/VAggzl8WCeI/AAAAAAAACcM/E3jD9oFb9cc/s1600/Smiley%2B%2B%2BPsycho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EFDUtKAmEvI/VAggzl8WCeI/AAAAAAAACcM/E3jD9oFb9cc/s1600/Smiley%2B%2B%2BPsycho.jpg" height="400" width="330" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Despite Ollie's pyscho expression he was actually as happy as Tristan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For those with some time to kill both Tristan
and I can wholeheartedly recommend the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/473976246069944/" target="_blank">Dirty 600</a> loop, or for those just
dabbling there are shorter 400 and 200 km routes each taking in many of the Hunter's fine trails. Grand depart is on October 4 so there is still plenty of time to carbo load or at least start your taper!</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-62316753305168004272014-07-24T02:47:00.000-07:002014-07-24T02:50:52.722-07:00Ollie's (Quality) Junk Sale. Everything Must Go!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Times always come in one's life where the accumulation of life's excessive accoutrements becomes too great to bear. This phenomenon is made worse when one resides in a shoebox sized apartment, as Heidi and I are forced to do in Sydney. Motivated by a suffocating proliferation of components I've decided to have a clear out and sell some fine quality 'lightly used' components via social media. So have a gander at the junk below and make me a realistic offer at<a href="mailto: oliver.whalley@gmail.com" target="_blank"> oliver.whalley@gmail.com</a>. Happy to sort shipping to either Australia or NZ as require. Prices are in AUD. If I can successfully get rid of the first round then there are a few more to come, and I promise there is actually some good stuff in there, especially for a kleptomaniacal biker!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xN1u6znl3Cw/U9DQZpKgmWI/AAAAAAAACV8/boa3QHdGN4g/s1600/P7140228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xN1u6znl3Cw/U9DQZpKgmWI/AAAAAAAACV8/boa3QHdGN4g/s1600/P7140228.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> SRAM Press fit PF30 BB $40</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-Brand Spankers SRAM Press Fit 30 Bottom Bracket </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-Fits 30mm spindle cranksets to mountain and road frames with PF30 BB shell </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Includes spacers, wave washer and instructions</div>
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ayEVVFsW1Io/U9DQZINC6WI/AAAAAAAACV4/qYIUP-kzHWk/s1600/P7140229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ayEVVFsW1Io/U9DQZINC6WI/AAAAAAAACV4/qYIUP-kzHWk/s1600/P7140229.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Near new Chris King Headset <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">$100</span><!--6--></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-1-1/8" old School straight steerer </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Sotto Voce logos </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Slight cable rub on lower cup </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Bearings smooth as silk </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Includes star nut, and mad props from your riding buddies for rolling on the best headset in the biz</div>
</span></span><br />
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ZdV89m6gqg/U9DQZgHU4VI/AAAAAAAACWA/K5ciqdHMFp8/s1600/P7140230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ZdV89m6gqg/U9DQZgHU4VI/AAAAAAAACWA/K5ciqdHMFp8/s1600/P7140230.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Brand new Shimano XT M780 Rear Derailleur</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"> $80</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-10 speed compatible </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Long cage </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Bad-ass black colourway </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Show that derailleur munching rock you are boss with this wallet friendly but well performing shiftermatron</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EDlM3w1trd0/U9DQlsGTjNI/AAAAAAAACWQ/FwXq2szaH80/s1600/P7140231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EDlM3w1trd0/U9DQlsGTjNI/AAAAAAAACWQ/FwXq2szaH80/s1600/P7140231.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Brand new Shimano XT Ninja Stars</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"> $90</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-Taken off XT M780 crankset </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-104/64 bcd 4 bolt </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-42t biggie </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-32t middle </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-24t granny </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Benchmark Shimano shifting </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Doesn't include bolts </div>
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-li9lGlxO3EE/U9DQqLE-_dI/AAAAAAAACWY/AOwpccjZ8ag/s1600/P7140232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-li9lGlxO3EE/U9DQqLE-_dI/AAAAAAAACWY/AOwpccjZ8ag/s1600/P7140232.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> XT Bottom bracket to suit <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">XT/SLX/Zee MTB Cranksets $40</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-Spacers included for 68/73mm threaded BB shells </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pon_ehod6w0/U9DQqYNYW5I/AAAAAAAACWc/P-53qh_4bhk/s1600/P7140233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pon_ehod6w0/U9DQqYNYW5I/AAAAAAAACWc/P-53qh_4bhk/s1600/P7140233.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">Crazy light Egg Beater Ti SPD pedals</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"> $100</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">-Includes real Titanium spindles for uber lightness (sub 200g!) </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Good condition with recent rebuild and little play in cages </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
-Doesn't include cleats </div>
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MbqI6hlhsyc/U9DQznx7BVI/AAAAAAAACWo/AWmP1IYDN6A/s1600/P7140234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MbqI6hlhsyc/U9DQznx7BVI/AAAAAAAACWo/AWmP1IYDN6A/s1600/P7140234.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">Brand New Egg Beater 3 SPD pedals<span class="apple-converted-space"> $130</span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background: white;"><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">-Weight:
278g/pair</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">-Includes cleats</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0aFf0zDYSss/U9DQ4LNVetI/AAAAAAAACWw/fsTbXxzusLo/s1600/P7140235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0aFf0zDYSss/U9DQ4LNVetI/AAAAAAAACWw/fsTbXxzusLo/s1600/P7140235.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">Brand new Shimano XTR
Ninja Stars</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"> $130</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">-Taken
off XTR M980 crankset</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">-104/64
bcd 4 bolt</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">-42t
biggie</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">
</span>
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">-32t
middle</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
</span>
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">-24t
granny</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
</span>
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">-Benchmark
Shimano shifting</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
</span>
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">-Includes
bolts for biggie/middle</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X5nbVHeTm6o/U9DQ4OXNKII/AAAAAAAACW0/-AEXkQXjbSM/s1600/P7140236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X5nbVHeTm6o/U9DQ4OXNKII/AAAAAAAACW0/-AEXkQXjbSM/s1600/P7140236.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">White e13 Turbocharger
bash ring</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"> $25</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">-104
bcd 4 bolt pattern</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">-To
suit 36T single or double ring</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
</span>
</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">-Includes
long bolts for fitting</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
</span>
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%;">-Perfect
if you keep getting a bit rad and consistently huck to chainring</span></div>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-29425474545483455252014-04-01T19:16:00.000-07:002014-04-01T19:22:30.173-07:00Gravel Grinding; Enduro Specific Roadbiking?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hmj5Kmw-oaM/UztvsfyNuWI/AAAAAAAACRg/LVGDldU6VX8/s1600/1977288_685502594846278_1353989227_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hmj5Kmw-oaM/UztvsfyNuWI/AAAAAAAACRg/LVGDldU6VX8/s1600/1977288_685502594846278_1353989227_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gravel ready for the grinding<br />
Photo Marcel van Schie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After a heart warming visit back home to New Zealand to make
an honest woman out of Heidi (or rather her making an honest man of me!), then
a work trip to <a href="http://www.mountainpedalernz.blogspot.com/2013/05/safari-kiribati-style.html" target="_blank">Kiribati</a>, I was about ready for a good old fashioned long
ride. It just so happened that the trend setting crew at <a href="http://www.citybikedepot.com.au/" target="_blank">City Bike Depot</a> had planned a trial run of a new concept in road riding: gravel grinding. While
I say new, the truth is far from this as for years and years when people
circulated the countryside on their penny farthings (or less endo prone safety
bicycles), they didn’t feel the need a focus group derived moniker to label
their excursion, the very description of bicycling was enough!</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So it is understandable then that when gravel grinding
started to trend on Twitbox and Instabook, I greeted the concept with derision.
The cynic in me saw it is a way to sell another slightly different type of
bicycle with fatter tires and vertical compliance. While I’m a staunch believer
of the <a href="http://bikenoob.com/2010/08/31/n-1/" target="_blank">n+1 rule of bicycle ownership</a>, the fact remains that you can ride
whatever bicycle you like on whatever terrain, as long as you are willing to
accept varying levels of sketchiness and comfort.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hugh and his crew had put together a 140km loop around
Bathurst, 4 hours west of Sydney on the
dry side of the Blue Mountains. The area defied its reputation for boganism,
with a possie of 15 riders happy to note that the picturesque quiet roads made
for some very fine gravel grinding. Very fine indeed.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S_ovtULyh7s/UztxmJQQu_I/AAAAAAAACR4/tdAomui2MeY/s1600/Bunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S_ovtULyh7s/UztxmJQQu_I/AAAAAAAACR4/tdAomui2MeY/s1600/Bunch.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bunch of grinders heads out of Bathurst early on<br />
Photo Marcel van Schie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Heidi was aboard a perfect machine for the ride, her well
loved Surly Cross-Check, with the only change from commuting spec being a
slight drop in tire pressure on her 32mm wide Conti Gatorskins. With cross
season coming up I decided some time on my Gates Carbon Drive singlespeed would be
fitting, leaving on my 25mm Contis and the 64” gear, mindful that the distance
could make a larger ratio overly arduous.
Sydney CX mafioso Rob P. opted for fatter tires and a monster 70” fixed
gear, and as we hit the first stretch of gravel with a few skyward pinches, I
swear I heard his knees groan in protest, later admitting to taking a number of
tactical walks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LhwP7v9FViM/UztwbocfCvI/AAAAAAAACRo/ejw_k0h0v4Q/s1600/Prestart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LhwP7v9FViM/UztwbocfCvI/AAAAAAAACRo/ejw_k0h0v4Q/s1600/Prestart.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bunch familiarizes themselves with the cue sheets, while Ollie waits for his Garmin to load<br />
Photo Marcel van Schie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Starting at a local sports ground Hugh dished out a cue
sheet, thankfully we had GPX backup after the paper melted in the morning mist.
We made our way south as a merry rabble, the group amicably parting when rolling over the stretch of gravel which
caused Rob’s first knee trauma. We met this section with whoops of delight, but
were shocked to find the experience of riding road bikes on gravel just like
riding on the road, only more gravelly. It made a nice crunchy noise as our tires
rolled over the rain hardened surface, a smooth and thoroughly enjoyable
experience.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The collection of back roads which followed was a symphony
of riding delight, cresting rickety old railway passes and darting past
historic homesteads, all the while surrounded by the lush greenery of the
surrounding farms. Most sections of road we came across less than a single car,
which evoked a feeling as if we were in a bygone era free from automotive evil,
ambling through the countryside fueled by pure riding joy.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sm3E4Hh3KMg/UztyOdqceNI/AAAAAAAACSE/49CPm7QnVDY/s1600/Spiderwebs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sm3E4Hh3KMg/UztyOdqceNI/AAAAAAAACSE/49CPm7QnVDY/s1600/Spiderwebs.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much natural beauty, even the local spider population were getting amongst it!<br />
Photo Heidi Kahl</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The course was not without its challenges, the Olive hill
climb making for a particularly challenging stretch, its extended 21% grade teasing
with surprising gravel traction, only to let up on standing. By the time we
rolled in to Oberon with a mean pie hankering, the sit down was welcomed and we
rehydrated with sugary beverages for the final stretch to Bathurst.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hurtling down a particularly bumpy stretch through a patch
of forest, my back wheel hissed with a pinch flat, and I fortunately managed to
scrub speed without resorting to secondary braking. A quick change and we were
back on the gravel, however the accumulated miles had started to bear their
toll on Heidi. When asked which bits hurt, she replied everything, to which
silence followed as we crunched the last gravel climb, eager for the downhill
run back to Bathurst.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Go1gNzidJhY/UztvHiOGiUI/AAAAAAAACRQ/c1Viza6iFm0/s1600/Heidi+tuckered+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Go1gNzidJhY/UztvHiOGiUI/AAAAAAAACRQ/c1Viza6iFm0/s1600/Heidi+tuckered+out.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi's post-ride lie down.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Finishing up in seven and a half hours, Heidi starfished on
the lush grass of the finish line, quickly rousing herself before limbs
stiffened for the ride to where we were staying. Exhaustion quickly faded as we
reunited with our buddies and shared highlights from the ride. Both Heidi and I
can attest to the joys of gavel grinding particularly in such a beautiful part
of the world. But by all means don’t wait to get that gravel specific bike or
even for an organized event. The singular thrill of riding skinny tires of
gravel is there to be experienced, so drop out some psi, pack a sandwhich and
take your road bike out on something sketchy!</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ec126q_NrWs/UztxO23tw3I/AAAAAAAACRw/iWn2Z6A9sU0/s1600/Bikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ec126q_NrWs/UztxO23tw3I/AAAAAAAACRw/iWn2Z6A9sU0/s1600/Bikes.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Any bike is OK for gravel grinding! Except recumbent trikes, they are never OK.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-87471133734286987852014-01-28T02:12:00.001-08:002014-01-28T02:25:05.781-08:00Enduro Hucks the Ditch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HdJiQykcjYk/Uuc2YRFPbKI/AAAAAAAACOc/GstH9kIbhRA/s1600/OllieDH.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HdJiQykcjYk/Uuc2YRFPbKI/AAAAAAAACOc/GstH9kIbhRA/s1600/OllieDH.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie hooks a wooden berm on his way to finishing run #1<br />
Photo Joshua Nicholson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
From my remote observation post in Sydney, I’ve watched the
burgeoning kiwi enduro scene with envy. Races seem to be popping up all over
the country, followed by the inevitable wave of social media containing smiling
faces at the end of epic bar clenching runs. Championed by pinners like
privateer turned pro <a href="http://spokemagazine.com/2014/01/24/jamie-nicoll-on-united-ride-for-2014/" target="_blank">Jamie Nicoll</a>, the scene seems to go from strength to
strength. With ample shredworthy tracks and a growing disillusionment with the
cross country norm of mass market gravel-fests and mind numbingly repetitive
circuits, it is not really a surprise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PWshRf81JpU/Uuc2MyD2W3I/AAAAAAAACOM/mFZGRnXhUtA/s1600/rte-roller-rd1-8830.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PWshRf81JpU/Uuc2MyD2W3I/AAAAAAAACOM/mFZGRnXhUtA/s1600/rte-roller-rd1-8830.jpeg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shuttles make for good effort/stoke ratio<br />
Photo Joshua Nicholson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So when the gravity enduro phenomenon hucked the ditch to
New South Wales like a supercharged skippy the kangaroo, I was fizzing to get amongst
it. The first round of <a href="http://www.rockytrailentertainment.com/events/Rollercoaster-overview.html" target="_blank">Rocky Trail Entertainment’s Rollercoaster </a>series was
held at the trails of Ourimbah, a club built network consisting of all sorts of
flowing trails, the perfect setting to introduce the masses to the fun format.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiNGDYIca18/Uuc2NrYcRsI/AAAAAAAACOI/qJD_UXkmE88/s1600/rte-roller-rd1-9204.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiNGDYIca18/Uuc2NrYcRsI/AAAAAAAACOI/qJD_UXkmE88/s1600/rte-roller-rd1-9204.jpeg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lumpy tree and shredding rider<br />
Photo Joshua Nicholson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The course started with a shuttle to the top of a gnarly
downhill track dubbed <a href="http://www.citybikedepot.com.au/" target="_blank">CBD</a> after the Sydney bike shop. It
started with steep swooping drop into dusty berms, followed by sizable jumps
that rewarded bravado rather than finesse, then a fast rocky section and an
energy sapping final sprint over ladder bridges to stop the clock. This first
trail suited bigger bikes, while the second run was a much flatter pedal fest
that left those on downhill bikes suffering through waves of pedal bob and drowning
in fullface perspiration. And that was only in the ride to the start! While a
bit short at only 12 minutes of time at race pace, the combined courses made for an ideal mix,
with parts of the track favouring pedalling, and others just good old fashioned
chutzpah.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7UEHuoOK7Y4/Uuc2MmSqjqI/AAAAAAAACN8/IrRz6tDDf0A/s1600/RC1-ourimbah-map2014.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7UEHuoOK7Y4/Uuc2MmSqjqI/AAAAAAAACN8/IrRz6tDDf0A/s1600/RC1-ourimbah-map2014.jpeg" height="400" width="388" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Course for the day. Short but sweet.<br />
Photo Joshua Nicholson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I hadn’t raced downhill in anger since the <a href="http://mountainpedalernz.blogspot.com.au/2013/10/trans-savoie-le-grand-mountain-enduro.html" target="_blank">Trans-Savoie in France</a> which was a mind blowing 6 days of riding which left me flowing natural
gnar like Sam Hill (at least in my mind!). As such, my expectations of both the
course and my own enduro pace were low, but I’m pleased to report I came out
pleasantly surprised on both counts. I finished up 7<sup>th</sup> equal in
Elite, and on buckling over my bars at the second stage finish I’m certain I
couldn’t have eeked out any more pedal strokes. The other course of action would have been to
get off the brakes, but the amount of time I’d spent with the scary/fun feeling
of drifting my rear tire through corners told me that any less braking would have
been to tempt fate!<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4SEvEgoQZig/Uuc2M1m_a1I/AAAAAAAACOA/ptGRHwel5T0/s1600/rte-roller-rd1-9033.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4SEvEgoQZig/Uuc2M1m_a1I/AAAAAAAACOA/ptGRHwel5T0/s1600/rte-roller-rd1-9033.jpeg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This sign proved prophetic<br />
Photo Joshua Nicholson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Perhaps the coolest experience was just hanging at the
finishing tent and sponging up the buzz of everyone’s post-race stoke. While
the potential for crashes is high in races downhill against the clock, it
seemed everyone kept the rubber side down and lived to tell stories of saved
nose cases, high speed punctures and brief off track excursions. With the event
selling out with over 200 riders, there was plenty of stoke to go around, and
you’d be hard pressed to find a frown amongst the sweaty faces.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">So when work and time allows you can bet I’ll be strapping
on the kneepads and saddling up my squishy bike, looking </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">to claw back seconds against the proper brave
loonies who seem to float down the trails. Gravity endure is pretty rad and I’m
stoked it has made it to Australia!</span></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-38859954921735073502014-01-05T21:06:00.000-08:002014-01-05T21:38:11.935-08:00Home is where the gnar is<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j8BMXn1eMM8/Uso21AMANdI/AAAAAAAACMQ/Jnmp-Kwhb1c/s1600/GOPR0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j8BMXn1eMM8/Uso21AMANdI/AAAAAAAACMQ/Jnmp-Kwhb1c/s1600/GOPR0020.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie & Michi (+ Dan) reunite for some descending action</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The festive season presented me with an opportunity to
return to the very singletrack which had sparked my passion for technical
riding. The New Zealand backcountry routes of Cass Lagoon and Mount Oxford are gnarly root
infested trails of unmatched epicness. So epic in fact, that despite the
ardouous bike carries required to get to the rideable sections, the question of
point is rarely if ever raised. The end of arm pumping inducing trails always justifies
the means of back breaking carry.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had expected that bicycles were to be absent from the
break, with family time and wedding preparations the focus. Thanks to fiancé Heidi
understanding my need for man-time in the wilderness, I reunited with best-man
and bike packing aficionado Michi (who recently became Dr Michi) to shred some
of the old favourites. This came as a fantastic bonus, and while precipitation
threatened to wash out the adventure, we persevered and were rewarded with giggle
inducing slippery trails.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c_cqWVCHrEY/Uso25DcDFrI/AAAAAAAACNI/PL5Xm270V3Q/s1600/GOPR0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c_cqWVCHrEY/Uso25DcDFrI/AAAAAAAACNI/PL5Xm270V3Q/s1600/GOPR0035.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr Michi does a post Cass-Lagoon grimfie (grimace+selfie)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With my own El chucho trail bike at home in Sydney, I called
upon Michi’s generosity to borrow one of his steeds, a well-loved Rohloff
equipped El Commandante (29er hardtail). Sporting skinny race tires, 100mm of
travel and an undersized (for me) frame, I adjusted my expectations of pace and
fun accordingly, but was pleasantly surprised that the trails still had me descending
with an ear to ear grin. Usually 160mm travel at front and back (like Michi's El Terremoto) is a minimum
standard for enjoyment of these trails, with fat sticky rubber to keep speed
under control. The slick conditions we experienced required smooth line choice
that suited the little hardtail. I’m always surprised at their capability in
the wet, and they are high on my list of bikes to have if I ever suffered the
misfortune of having to choose just one.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2R5jD6Q896o/Uso22cO0J8I/AAAAAAAACMo/tTmvh_44MGI/s1600/GOPR0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2R5jD6Q896o/Uso22cO0J8I/AAAAAAAACMo/tTmvh_44MGI/s1600/GOPR0024.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">El Comm hardtail proved less sketchy than expected</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EhuJob3BbSQ/Uso20sC7L9I/AAAAAAAACMU/VIgRpdajQm0/s1600/GOPR0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EhuJob3BbSQ/Uso20sC7L9I/AAAAAAAACMU/VIgRpdajQm0/s1600/GOPR0011.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan gets enduro specific</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Tagging along on our Mt Oxford ride was Dan, who as Michi
tactfully put it, was well overdue to lose his hike-a-bike v plates. The soggy conditions weren’t an ideal
introduction, but as we pulled into the car park we were all fizzing, me
especially so. This was quickly replaced with the huff puff, and dead armed
poses induced by the skyward carry. On summitting the peak some 2 hours later
we discovered the trig had been blown off the side, a testament to the savagery
of recent wind storms.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iT_Fx93v72U/Uso20bHkMAI/AAAAAAAACMM/XSZFJBMMF7E/s1600/GOPR0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iT_Fx93v72U/Uso20bHkMAI/AAAAAAAACMM/XSZFJBMMF7E/s1600/GOPR0015.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan tops out at the summit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Manually dropping my seat (which was a surprising chore for
my dropper accustomed self) and pointing downwards, I was stoked to pass the
first freeriding test intact. Dan however was not so fortunate, riding off line
whist trying to clip in and endoing over an unflinching tussock. He’d left his
knee pads in the car and as if to prove Murphy’s hypothesis, struck his knee,
forcing a painful and cautious descent on the remainder of the long trail back
to the car.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-buDdF5IoH6s/Uso21vyOu6I/AAAAAAAACMs/siZbufjk5ks/s1600/GOPR0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-buDdF5IoH6s/Uso21vyOu6I/AAAAAAAACMs/siZbufjk5ks/s1600/GOPR0022.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie + wet roots = Stoked</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Taking care to stop and help Dan through the gnarlier bits,
Michi and I proceeded to slither our way down the trail. Riding Oxford was like
re acquainting myself with an old friend. My vague recollection of its idiosyncrasies
including drops and pinch climbs didn't match the order they appeared in
reality, but as the trail edged downwards I remembered why I’d grown to love
the trail in the first place. All the things I love about backcountry
singletrack was evident; the balance required between cautiousness and bravado,
the desperate search for traction, and the rush from making it down sketchy
sections with skin intact.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JbFKfigozfo/Uso22w8uqnI/AAAAAAAACMw/gBZPc8QNkWQ/s1600/GOPR0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JbFKfigozfo/Uso22w8uqnI/AAAAAAAACMw/gBZPc8QNkWQ/s1600/GOPR0025.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michi slaying the trail</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The day after Michi and I left Dan to lick his wounds,
heading for Cass for a long loop in spite of the heavy rain forecast. The
trails were damp, even more so than Oxford, but the sensations of rediscover of
an old friend were the same. For the eight or so hours we were riding and
clambering we were rained on for only a few, with every minute a blissful mix
of exertion and elation. The loop had undergone some changes with a number of
tree falls and reroutes adding new features. A reroute along the swampy sidle
from Lagoon shelter quickly petered out, linking to the dreadful tussock lined and
wheel swallowing bogs which my memory had chosen to forget. This was the
closest I got to question the rationality of our route, but on reaching the tree
line all negativity was quashed. The root gnarled switchbacks to the highway
were the perfect way to end the epic Cass loop.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bD1dT1DZZ8g/Uso25k4nMWI/AAAAAAAACNQ/KqZXuGgloEQ/s1600/GOPR0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bD1dT1DZZ8g/Uso25k4nMWI/AAAAAAAACNQ/KqZXuGgloEQ/s1600/GOPR0026.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of Cass Saddle. Ready to party.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So starting my holiday thinking they’d be precious little biking
in store, revisiting some of Canterbury’s backcountry gems proved to be nice
Christmas bonus. While the trails change due to slips and tree-fall, just like my
life does, it is nice to know that you can always go back and enjoy the simple
pleasures which helped grow my passion for riding. It is no surprise then that our
wedding ended up close by and sharing the thrill of these trails which will
always be my biking home gets me pretty darn excited!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oPgkawRhb9E/Uso5fHU64ZI/AAAAAAAACNY/gD02wdzQc7M/s1600/GOPR0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oPgkawRhb9E/Uso5fHU64ZI/AAAAAAAACNY/gD02wdzQc7M/s1600/GOPR0010.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie and Michi reigniting the bromance</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-88040741108254581562013-12-10T13:46:00.001-08:002013-12-10T13:47:38.987-08:00Mountain Paddler: Just add water<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AvkbPK2wFto/UqeJ59FRDiI/AAAAAAAACKQ/7l9KxIMF-CE/s1600/IMG_20131123_084757.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AvkbPK2wFto/UqeJ59FRDiI/AAAAAAAACKQ/7l9KxIMF-CE/s400/IMG_20131123_084757.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie's new boat. Just kidding!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: justify;">For the past month or so this land-lubbing bike lover has
broadened adventure horizons to include a range of aquatic pursuits. Living in
a beautiful harbour city like Sydney I felt I was missing out on the marine
adventures on offer, so taking possession of a water craft became a priority.
On the celebrated event of my birthday, the opportunity presented itself to
acquire such a craft, and utilising a series of international transactions and
liberal use of diplomatic bags, I got the Bank’s Washington DC based aviation
specialist to bring me the collapsible craft from Walmart.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8xZ2L7_sMY/UqeJ_pyfH9I/AAAAAAAACLY/Uqn8R5zg-Ng/s1600/IMG_20131208_143739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8xZ2L7_sMY/UqeJ_pyfH9I/AAAAAAAACLY/Uqn8R5zg-Ng/s400/IMG_20131208_143739.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Packed up and ready to transport</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A marvel of inflatable engineering, the <a href="http://www.walmart.com/ip/Sevylor-QuikPak-K5-Kayak/15763647" target="_blank">Sevylor Quikpak K5</a>
is a collapsible vessel which folds into its own pack, making it ideal for foot
or bike based transportation. Our
current residence bears a strong spatial resemblance to a shoebox, with insufficient
room to swing even a kitten, so occupied space is always a concern. Fortunately
the kayak manages to squeeze beneath our cream Ikea couch, thus appeasing Heidi’s
valid concerns of vanishing living space. At only $240US from the consumer’s
paradise of Wal-Mart, the value was exceptional, and given the low price the sophistication
of the design complete with included pump and foldable paddle blew me out of
the water (so to speak).<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EWLt8GK4HA8/UqeJ7WZ92fI/AAAAAAAACKk/1MFHhx49kJA/s1600/IMG_20131208_130249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EWLt8GK4HA8/UqeJ7WZ92fI/AAAAAAAACKk/1MFHhx49kJA/s400/IMG_20131208_130249.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inflation underway</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So once or twice a week I saddle up and head down to the
water, a short walk down some serious flights of stairs to Sirius Cove. Unclipping
and rearranging the pack, which converts into a padded seat, I proceeded to
inflate the ‘yak which is a short five minute exercise with the uber volume
hand pump (I’m convinced it could seat a fat bike tire with no worries!)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O3buNdNmzIk/UqeJ6EuDSQI/AAAAAAAACKM/rTXp8IatVK8/s1600/IMG_20131208_125501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O3buNdNmzIk/UqeJ6EuDSQI/AAAAAAAACKM/rTXp8IatVK8/s400/IMG_20131208_125501.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down the stairs...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ox4zfAe6W8A/UqeJ6yAayFI/AAAAAAAACKY/cgZrVokeDsQ/s1600/IMG_20131208_125508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ox4zfAe6W8A/UqeJ6yAayFI/AAAAAAAACKY/cgZrVokeDsQ/s400/IMG_20131208_125508.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And onto the water at Sirius Cove</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sliding into the water and the real adventure begins. I
usually follow the bush clad coast in and out of coves, where one is treated to
a hitherto unexplored world. Crystal blue water reveals fish and seething kelp,
with warped perspective leading to the odd rocky collision which inflatable
hull shrugs off with ease. Kayaking has also allowed me to embrace my inner
ornithologist, with the silent approach allowing me to observe day to day aviation
activities from an intriguing distance.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bgAhT1omHV4/UqeJ7cYZYLI/AAAAAAAACKg/vrKmpiewOpE/s1600/IMG_20131208_131216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bgAhT1omHV4/UqeJ7cYZYLI/AAAAAAAACKg/vrKmpiewOpE/s400/IMG_20131208_131216.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddling POV</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While the Quikpak with its uber-wide hull won’t win any
kayak sprints, it will potter through significant swells with relative ease,
with stability that will allay any fears of an impromptu dip. Besides territorial
seagulls looking to dispatch their guano payload, an ever present hazard which
lends an element of excitement to explorations are the switftly moving ferries
that dart about the harbour. My knowledge of maritime law is limited and I don’t
fancy testing give-way rules, so I’m happy to pause or divert course to avoid
the turbulent water and ‘yak crushing heft of these craft.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dvHxXgqjsFY/UqeJ8PE3GoI/AAAAAAAACKw/IjLB6QXBOa8/s1600/IMG_20131208_132336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dvHxXgqjsFY/UqeJ8PE3GoI/AAAAAAAACKw/IjLB6QXBOa8/s400/IMG_20131208_132336.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A ferry lurking behind the zoo wharf</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F34PMhlaNs4/UqeJ8uWaDPI/AAAAAAAACK4/ghMVm9vLbLU/s1600/IMG_20131208_132527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F34PMhlaNs4/UqeJ8uWaDPI/AAAAAAAACK4/ghMVm9vLbLU/s400/IMG_20131208_132527.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping my distance as it dashes to the city</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The freedom afforded by the kayak is exhilarating, with a
choice in route only limited by ones imagination, allowing me to slide past
whatever piques my interest. Last Sunday
Sydneysiders were out on the harbour in force, with a mixture of families
fishing to rowdy party boats moored in the cove. It felt great to out in the
sunshine amongst the water based revelers.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E5yv3XSC7F4/UqeJ92E_uWI/AAAAAAAACLI/1MnFvHFlA-Y/s1600/PANO_20131208_133635161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="90" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E5yv3XSC7F4/UqeJ92E_uWI/AAAAAAAACLI/1MnFvHFlA-Y/s400/PANO_20131208_133635161.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Sydney harbour panorama</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Safe to say I’m pretty stoked with the adventure
opportunities afforded by this new addition to the fleet. With time I’m hoping
to develop seafaring skills to attempt longer journeys such as the famed home
to city aquatic commute. I'll be wary of the limitations of this glorified pool toy and plan to only venture out when winds rate low on the Beaufort scale, with my Spot tracker as an emergency back-up. With a relaxed pace and soothing bob far removed from
my usual hasty biking journey’s the aquatic treats of Sydney’s harbour are now
within paddling reach.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cPeHeLBz8tw/UqeJ9RIqRCI/AAAAAAAACLM/vI-xHj4PvXA/s1600/IMG_20131208_134706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cPeHeLBz8tw/UqeJ9RIqRCI/AAAAAAAACLM/vI-xHj4PvXA/s400/IMG_20131208_134706.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-68Es2WkwJPU/UqeJ8ro2IKI/AAAAAAAACK8/dAvtgHZAy-E/s1600/IMG_20131208_134654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-68Es2WkwJPU/UqeJ8ro2IKI/AAAAAAAACK8/dAvtgHZAy-E/s400/IMG_20131208_134654.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waves aren't conducive to well composed shots</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-85941373817473952592013-11-21T02:41:00.003-08:002013-11-21T02:43:01.009-08:00Newcastle Overnight, in the rain.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v5KWEaN5rUo/Uo3eg0vu6EI/AAAAAAAACIM/vRI1GhxMvlM/s1600/IMG_20131022_125451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v5KWEaN5rUo/Uo3eg0vu6EI/AAAAAAAACIM/vRI1GhxMvlM/s400/IMG_20131022_125451.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only those with beady eyes were in the N-O know</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="text-align: justify;">Times have been hectic of late, with long work trips away
from my Australian home and busy schedules whilst back making it difficult to
indulge in the full scale adventures I prefer. </span><span style="text-align: justify;">This past weekend presented an opportunity to reverse the
trend, with the second running of an underground road event dubbed Newcastle
Overnight leaving from the harbour bridge at 9PM on Saturday night.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I’d learnt about the event in the best possible way; from a
tiny flyer pasted to a sign on the harbour bridge bike lane. With no entry fee,
nor prizes and the intrinsic reward which only bike induced sleep deprivation can
bring, Heidi and I committed to the 170km ride north. Having ridden none of the
old Pacific Highway route previously we were assured new roads and breathtaking
vistas, that is we would have been if it wasn’t dark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The preceding week’s weather forecast showed ominous signs,
with rain most of the week and dark menacing clouds the go to sky decor. Come Saturday I was 100% committed, partly
due to the impermeable waterproof barrier offered by my <a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/product/RAI/HEL/" target="_blank">Ground Effect Helter skelters</a>
and Rocky Goretex socks. Truly I could ride home to New Zealand along the bottom
of the Tasman sea and still have dry toes and bum. Fortunately, Australia is
largely a warm place so while the rain bucketed down an in monsoonal volumes (40mm
over the duration of our ride), the temperature never dropped below 10 degrees
so Heidi and I could avoid at least one of the three points of the Hangry
pyramid.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WM2rGpX2HoA/Uo3idEGd7qI/AAAAAAAACI0/o0DmRQcpHHw/s1600/hangry.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="327" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WM2rGpX2HoA/Uo3idEGd7qI/AAAAAAAACI0/o0DmRQcpHHw/s400/hangry.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hangry pyramid infographic- pretty self explanatory</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
For those not in the know, this simple measure consists of
cold, tired and hungry, with only a combination of the three yielding full
blown hangry. Since our arrival to the warm climes of ‘stralia incidences of
hangry have been significantly reduced, which I can only attribute to warmer
climes. Certainly not less ambitious adventures with Heidi setting new
standards of personal achievement and awesomeness at each outing!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dLuXg3aAPEw/Uo3dbGbF4qI/AAAAAAAACH0/sUxCO4g0UFc/s1600/IMG_20131116_193003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dLuXg3aAPEw/Uo3dbGbF4qI/AAAAAAAACH0/sUxCO4g0UFc/s400/IMG_20131116_193003.jpg" width="340" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi + Shirley the Surly</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Some 100 other nutters turned out just as the skies opened
properly, and after sheltering in a gazebo and getting a low key briefing
typical for this type of event, we caustiously rolled out into the roads which
were awash with torrents of runoff.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E4pd5H-Vmj0/Uo3dyQk1LgI/AAAAAAAACH8/bFliAaegN_w/s1600/1462927_459378024170759_1911425760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E4pd5H-Vmj0/Uo3dyQk1LgI/AAAAAAAACH8/bFliAaegN_w/s400/1462927_459378024170759_1911425760_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nutters, every last one of them</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It quickly became apparent that riding in normal bunch
formation was an undesirable affair, the spray of wheel-launched water
directing a stream of gritty water directly at one’s face. I promptly gave up
the bunch ride approach and drifted off the front, cautiously checking my GPS
for turns till we were on the proper back roads.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtaUyinUhkQ/Uo3f76zdUlI/AAAAAAAACIg/eB0DSy_71A4/s1600/IMG_20131121_212337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XtaUyinUhkQ/Uo3f76zdUlI/AAAAAAAACIg/eB0DSy_71A4/s400/IMG_20131121_212337.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paper map was superseeded by less soggy GPS nav</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At one point I missed a turn completely and ended up on the
freeway, traffic screaming past at 110km/h. realising the error of my ways I
was reluctant to backtrack into the four lane traffic, so had no option but to
roll on till an opportunity to cross back presented itself. When it finally
arrived, the GPS showed a tiny 50m gap to the old highway and blissfully quiet
roads. What it didn’t show was the 30m drop in elevation over this short distance,
nor the slippery boulders to be navigated, quite an undertaking in my skittery soled
road shoes. Somehow I made it down unconcussed and with bike intact. I was then
confronted by a final obstacle requiring bush bashing through vines and scrub
in a style akin to that used on Chad’s fault, a particularly heinous vegetation
entangled geographical obstacle in the Big Hurt ride. Emerging from the bush and clearing botanical samples from
helmet and wheels, I rolled back along the course. From this point on the road
was magic, with sweeping corners and mellow climbs that willed the legs to keep
spinning, despite the descending mental (not to mention actual) fog.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yu-gZbAFyv4/Uo3gT6H7VlI/AAAAAAAACIo/AnnxGEcUyPA/s1600/IMG_20131116_204019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yu-gZbAFyv4/Uo3gT6H7VlI/AAAAAAAACIo/AnnxGEcUyPA/s400/IMG_20131116_204019.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These eerie markers apparently dotted the route, but I can't recall seeing any!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A nice surprise was the tea stop atop Mount White, where on consuming
a muffin I was caught by the trailing bunch who seemed to be taking the whole
ride rather seriously. Wanting to avoid getting sprayed in the face again, I
made a quick exit and was treated to a solitary ride up the coast.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
An amazing tailwind provided a welcome push along the final
60km stretch. I felt as though I was flying into Newcastle, the storm gusts
giving pushing me onwards to the final destination. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Rolling up to the bathhouse at a stormy Newcastle beach and
the fanfare was typically low key. Certainly no dancing girls in attendance,
which seems to be an internationally consistent theme. Looking for the party I
backtracked and found the only place open, a grimy Kebab shop with what seemed
like a foot thick layer of half eaten wraps of chicken, beef or combination
chicken/beef. Shivering on a door-step while I contemplated my next move, I had
the company of homeward bound revellers, only one threatening violence. The rest
were convinced my journey from Sydney was a fabrication, my GPS log quickly earning
their drunken respect.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Searching for a place to warm up proved fruitless till I
happened upon the train station and the blissful warmth of the trains. Nodding
off in a carriage (thankfully the Sydney bound one), I awoke as the train was
pulling away, checking my phone to see if Hieid had made it. Only an hour and a
half back, she’d done exceptionally well but by the sound of her voice I could
tell she was in a sorry state. I jumped
off at the next station and went to meet her. She was happy to be done with the
ride and content to nap on the train after an artery warming McD’s breakfast.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9OaE-R5w6Io/Uo3eKZXKjYI/AAAAAAAACIE/CK4XbS2o-Fs/s1600/IMG_20131117_063514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9OaE-R5w6Io/Uo3eKZXKjYI/AAAAAAAACIE/CK4XbS2o-Fs/s400/IMG_20131117_063514.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi purges water from her socks on the train ride home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Despite the rain I really enjoyed the adventure. The
solitude and beautiful roads, not to mention the simple pleasure of a long bike
ride after 2 weeks sans bike was great. Roll on the next (and hopefully less
damp) adventure!</div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0Sydney NSW, Australia-33.8674869 151.20699020000006-34.711976400000005 149.91609670000005 -33.0229974 152.49788370000007tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-14931006621138743782013-10-01T19:15:00.001-07:002013-10-01T19:15:56.628-07:00Trans-Savoie - Le Grand Mountain Enduro<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qflR33Mtj9I/Ukt8KL_89II/AAAAAAAACEM/3b1uqODraWk/s1600/shred10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qflR33Mtj9I/Ukt8KL_89II/AAAAAAAACEM/3b1uqODraWk/s400/shred10.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
In a word, the Trans-Savoie was amazeballs. Ground Effect got the exclusive on my ramblings so head over to their <a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/blog/hotrides/?id=85" target="_blank">website</a> to get the low down (and down and down x 1000). Shout out to David Martin for the sweet photos!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TqLeufoMzB0/Ukt9PYzhw3I/AAAAAAAACEo/YfMhv0h2atY/s1600/Avalanche.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TqLeufoMzB0/Ukt9PYzhw3I/AAAAAAAACEo/YfMhv0h2atY/s400/Avalanche.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G4trST5PiMg/Ukt8R-XzydI/AAAAAAAACEc/E9DTQvfW5J4/s1600/shred5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G4trST5PiMg/Ukt8R-XzydI/AAAAAAAACEc/E9DTQvfW5J4/s400/shred5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HGGiLkThYHU/Ukt8SIJVcpI/AAAAAAAACEY/Urn6pJvfJP0/s1600/sit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HGGiLkThYHU/Ukt8SIJVcpI/AAAAAAAACEY/Urn6pJvfJP0/s400/sit.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-16554608914365157222013-09-27T15:50:00.001-07:002013-09-27T15:50:55.830-07:00Pace and a rolled tub at the NSW State Champs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rWvmAFRzICA/UkYI-pvQzDI/AAAAAAAACDY/GGLWnqNC614/s1600/1240087_10153270052415106_1463310663_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rWvmAFRzICA/UkYI-pvQzDI/AAAAAAAACDY/GGLWnqNC614/s400/1240087_10153270052415106_1463310663_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sid leads the bunch - Photo Dave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Manly Bike life festival at Sydney’s iconic beach of the
same name was well attended by alternative lifestylers, with notable
appearances from bakfiet riders, a bike powered juice machine, unicyclists and
even the odd recumbent tandem.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D4NWoIKmlbI/UkYIzp6JeeI/AAAAAAAACDA/oB2KMLlNUZk/s1600/579097_10153270043105106_1355510382_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D4NWoIKmlbI/UkYIzp6JeeI/AAAAAAAACDA/oB2KMLlNUZk/s400/579097_10153270043105106_1355510382_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start line staunchness - Photo Dave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For the freaks of a different type the main event was the
New South Wales State Championship, and lining up on the front row of the starting
grid in my Gates Carbon Drive kit I was ready to bring some single-speed noise
to the stacked geared field. Cross wise it has been a pretty consistent if
unspectacular season , with a high of a 4<sup>th</sup> place at one of the
Sydney championships and a 20<sup>th</sup> starting from dead last in a tough 60
strong Elite field for the National series rounds, both at Terrey Hills.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CDT6KbamjSU/UkYI-lvNKpI/AAAAAAAACDQ/wQKbjuQqJ94/s1600/1236028_10153270042365106_428518317_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CDT6KbamjSU/UkYI-lvNKpI/AAAAAAAACDQ/wQKbjuQqJ94/s400/1236028_10153270042365106_428518317_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie looks the wrong way - Dave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My form coming into the state champs was largely unknown. A
month ago I had an amazing week of enduro racing in France at the <a href="http://www.vitalmtb.com/news/news/Trans-Savoie-2013-Results-and-Video,638" target="_blank">Trans-Savoie</a>,
then a 760km bikepacking suffer fest at the <a href="http://hunterracetrail.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Big Hurt</a> in Newcastle, followed by
a week of hotel bound spin-biking whilst in Papua New Guinea on work.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dfhl-NdKLOU/UkUXwqH-ZNI/AAAAAAAACCo/Uz_foc6F1-E/s1600/sydney-manly-cyclocross6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dfhl-NdKLOU/UkUXwqH-ZNI/AAAAAAAACCo/Uz_foc6F1-E/s400/sydney-manly-cyclocross6.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chaos - Photo Phillip Gray</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Turns out the spin bike did wonders and I darted off the
line to slot into 3<sup>rd</sup> place just behind professional XC weapon and ex-olympian
Sid Taberlay. For this first stretch of the race I had the strangest sensation
of floating, with none of the suffering I normally associated with cross. Oddly
I was going proper fast, as fast as I ever have in a CX race, and no amount of
energy sapping sand runs nor momentum crushing off off-camber/uphill corners
could rain on Sunday afternoon.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MTVRNx6RXOE/UkYJAgwydEI/AAAAAAAACDg/AvTrYZogqjo/s1600/523486_10153270059710106_905942610_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MTVRNx6RXOE/UkYJAgwydEI/AAAAAAAACDg/AvTrYZogqjo/s400/523486_10153270059710106_905942610_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie leads the sandy run - Photo Dave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Such was my feeling of pace that I had the audacity to
attack our lead trio coming through the start finish line. Every lap I had seen
the two in front sit up, and punching along the straight I pushed a gap of 50 metres,
much to the support of the vocal crowd who, like me, were sick of watching an off road bunch ride.
Holding the lead on the run and through the twisty flat back of the course
through the trees, it was one of these final corners which would prove my
downfall . I pushed my front wheel too hard and rolled off my tubular tire,
leaving me floundering in a cloud of very un-belgian dust. Damn.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gC_f9LtNPFI/UkYLDOEUb_I/AAAAAAAACDw/kJbnscg6_3k/s1600/CXNSW.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gC_f9LtNPFI/UkYLDOEUb_I/AAAAAAAACDw/kJbnscg6_3k/s400/CXNSW.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antics (and facials) like this cost Ollie the lead - Photo David Rome</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cKV8f4xDH2Y/UkYI-z3GNoI/AAAAAAAACDU/Qwtvdbq7rDI/s1600/1375095_10153270058300106_1685627834_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cKV8f4xDH2Y/UkYI-z3GNoI/AAAAAAAACDU/Qwtvdbq7rDI/s400/1375095_10153270058300106_1685627834_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo evidence of the 'gap' - Photo Dave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A quick analysis revealed the tire was well untruly unstuck,
as was my race, and with nothing left to do I shouldered the bike and ran as
smoothly as one can in Sidi Dragons to the pits for a lightning wheel change.
Back rolling, the ethereal feeling of earlier had gone, whether through the
effect of the run or more likely the psychological deflation of doing so well
only to let it all slip away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zdu-zeLgjyI/UkUXwcv8EfI/AAAAAAAACCk/0VVSESyLMn8/s1600/sydney-manly-cyclocross5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zdu-zeLgjyI/UkUXwcv8EfI/AAAAAAAACCk/0VVSESyLMn8/s400/sydney-manly-cyclocross5.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barrier of doom - Photo Phillip Gray</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To be perfectly frank I’m not all that gutted about what happened
and am simply stoked to have a glimpse of the good form that seems to have
evaded me since I took up long distance riding in earnest. Through a
combination of holidays, the French alps and labored exertion in the prison
like confines of the Crowne Plaza, I stung together an solid if incomplete
performance. Not being one to waste a
good opportunity, I’ve signed up for the WEMBO 24 hour Worlds in Canberra.
After last year’s Scott 24 I vowed to return with a proper (Rohloff and belt drive equipped)
bike and give the elite category a nudge. Heidi and a friend Venetia are on
board for support, and with a bit of luck I’ll be able to stay awake and eat
enough to keep me going for the full 24 hours.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-21578285630480712002013-09-18T22:31:00.001-07:002013-09-19T00:46:25.753-07:00The indignity of riding indoors<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ULSM2nL6syg/UjqFmp-laOI/AAAAAAAACAw/plag6w5QR_g/s1600/shred2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ULSM2nL6syg/UjqFmp-laOI/AAAAAAAACAw/plag6w5QR_g/s400/shred2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shredding the Savoie- Photo Dave Martin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of late I have been very fortunate to ride in some amazing
places. Only a month ago I was in France shredding endless lift accessed
descents on my trail bike. After a week in Morzine I got my enduro on at the
<a href="http://www.vitalmtb.com/news/news/Trans-Savoie-2013-Results-and-Video,638" target="_blank">Trans-Savoie</a> which were both a great introduction to the alps. Life without
4000m of descent a day was always going to be a tough transition, so to fill
the gap Heidi and I went slightly north to Newcastle for the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/190943500957500/" target="_blank">HuRT</a>, a
tough course which pushed the boundaries of fun. It rewarded perseverance with
some of the ‘best trails ever’ and memories of the endless hike-a-bike have
already begun to fade.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9a4AhHeTy9s/UjqHjHPE0VI/AAAAAAAACA8/o2cCoOgXesM/s1600/999981_10151885051595259_1086158186_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9a4AhHeTy9s/UjqHjHPE0VI/AAAAAAAACA8/o2cCoOgXesM/s400/999981_10151885051595259_1086158186_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AK & Ollie at the start of the HuRT- Photo Brad Mertens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the context of these recent adventures I can’t expect
much sympathy for my current predicament. You see for the last week I’ve been
trapped in the confines of <a href="http://www.ihg.com/crowneplaza/hotels/us/en/port-moresby/pompg/hoteldetail" target="_blank">Port Moresby’s Crowne Plaza Hotel</a>. The only chance I
get to escape the musty air-conditioned atmosphere is on the dash between lobby
and car, or car and office. I’m forced
to breathe recycled air mixed with people’s flatulence, and this has the combined
effect of crushing my spirit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One redeeming feature of the Crowne is its gym which
features amongst other well used equipment, treadmills, stationary bikes and a
rowing machine. While I’m the first to scoff at people who flock to gyms for
spin class despite glorious outdoor sun, I’ve been forced to reconsider my
position in light of the strict constraints that PNG poses.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First amongst these is the security situation. While often
blown out of proportion by news media and security briefings, the fact remains
that Port Moresby has one of the highest crime rates in the world. While I
place a high value on fresh air, it isn’t worth getting shanked over! We can’t
safely walk the streets, hence the need for a car escort wherever we go. Time
constraints are also a factor, with the long days of a World Bank mission
schedule I’m forced to squeeze any Ollie time into the early morning hours.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With an outlook like this, I decided that rather than an
easy session on the treadmill and bike, I might as well make the most of the
situation and incorporate some suffering, the type that you can only get from
stationary machines in poorly ventilated gyms. My regime was to start with a
run, putting in some 1 and 2 minute intervals down whilst trying not to drown
in my own perspiration. I’d then move to the bike, where a set of 1 minutes
efforts reduced me to a dizzy and drenched wreck. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cPti-7QnZtc/UjqIOHyodBI/AAAAAAAACBU/2WKw8eA-tr8/s1600/IMG_20130915_083715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cPti-7QnZtc/UjqIOHyodBI/AAAAAAAACBU/2WKw8eA-tr8/s320/IMG_20130915_083715.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scary post workout selfie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d finish exhausted but slightly elated. The sessions have been
a good reminder how much of the enjoyment from exercise comes from the sheer
exertion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XXW9xww-0gU/UjqLa3QpSjI/AAAAAAAACB8/N-n7e08-oEE/s1600/IMG_20130915_083629a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XXW9xww-0gU/UjqLa3QpSjI/AAAAAAAACB8/N-n7e08-oEE/s400/IMG_20130915_083629a.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Technogym's finest indoor model</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The so called stationary bikes bear little resemblance to
the beautiful machines they are supposed to model. The features of the Technogym
include a saddle large enough to seat a hippopotamus (or the target American
demographic fatty). This forced a forward pedaling stance which was far from
comfortable. Handlebar rise of almost a foot required a posture normally
reserved for the most upright of adjustable stem equipped hybrid bikes. The
heartrate monitor couldn’t decide whether I was flat lining or at maxing out,
so I largely ignored it and the occasional warning about unsafe HR. Finally, lag
on the resistance that meant I could pedal for 10 seconds before I felt any
change.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were however a few redeeming features, namely a
serious range of resistance which my puny legs didn’t dare push beyond level 18
of 25, with a sensation similar to riding through treacle resistance enough.
Perhaps the best feature (especially in light of the rubbish heart rate
measurement) was a power readout, and this allowed me to repeat my intervals
with precision (although probably not accuracy). I’ve always wanted to train
with a power meter and while the bike itself was far from a dream, it was nice
to have.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wwv9Knqx3uk/UjqLcTJ_0mI/AAAAAAAACCI/W05pGEWoGrc/s1600/IMG_20130915_083638a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="321" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wwv9Knqx3uk/UjqLcTJ_0mI/AAAAAAAACCI/W05pGEWoGrc/s400/IMG_20130915_083638a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filter added to simulate dizziness. Note 'awesome' features.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So this is how I maintained my sanity for my week working in
PNG. Safe to say I’m looking forward to returning home where the security
situation means I can hit the streets without fear of shanking. Makes me feel
pretty lucky, and that is even before I think about the awesome roads and
trails around Sydney.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WdFC8-Qbw-U/UjqLaiSTZ0I/AAAAAAAACB4/sviHiyD_-to/s1600/IMG_20130919_075732a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WdFC8-Qbw-U/UjqLaiSTZ0I/AAAAAAAACB4/sviHiyD_-to/s400/IMG_20130919_075732a.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wonder if I could take it back to Sydney?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-89676632065745641792013-09-14T18:30:00.002-07:002013-09-14T18:35:03.209-07:00Hurt Hunter Trail Race<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After reading other blog posts about the
Hurt Hunter Trail Race I became inspired to write something of my own
experience. Ollie has dropped the ball
with his blogging at the moment, so I’m having a go. Thanks to Ross and Brad for the photos stolen from Facebook, hope you don't mind. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">On the Thursday night previous to the Hurt,
at 10pm, after I had come home from a day of turmoil at work, Ollie and I are
sitting in bed discussing our lives at present.
“I’m just not sure I can do the Hurt, life in general is just a bit
hectic and stressful right now” were my words.
“Me too” Ollie replied. He had
just returned from racing the Trans Savoie (still no blog on that one yet) and
hadn’t even been back at work a full week yet.
But the following night we were both sitting on the train to Newcastle,
bikes and associated gear at hand. I’m
not sure how or when or why we came to the conclusion to go ahead with our
plans, but we did, and there we were. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Ollie hopped off the train at Woy Woy to
stay with Chad and a bunch of hooligans down there while I continued on to
Adamstown. There was a plush inflatable
bed waiting for me at Ross and Suses’ house.
I was so tired that night, when I lay on the bed it felt like I was
sleeping on clouds. The next morning
Ross customized some settings on my GPS which I’m told would be better for
moral, like not showing current speed on the main screen. He also MacGyver’ed up a leash for my GPS,
which at the time I thought was overkill, but later learned that it wasn’t. Thanks Ross. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vfhjtoMMkU0/UjUKjVxPrQI/AAAAAAAACAI/QUGBveZ6hnQ/s1600/Loaded+Bike+for+Hurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vfhjtoMMkU0/UjUKjVxPrQI/AAAAAAAACAI/QUGBveZ6hnQ/s320/Loaded+Bike+for+Hurt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little bike all loaded up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went down to the train station and met
Joel Nicholson, the only other competitor in the small Hurt. Ollie and AK were participating in a larger
event, the Big Hurt which started in Woy Woy.
Ross sent us off and we biked along a smooth bike path out of town. Not very far into the ride Joel experienced
some issues with his brakes and I later learnt also broke his chain. I expected he wouldn’t be long fixing it up
and I would see him further down the track.
But no such luck. Reflecting on
my experience I think there are two things that would have seriously challenged
my attempt at completing the Hurt, mechanical issues and rain. There is no doubt in my mind that had either
of these two things happened upon me I would have thrown a tantrum and called
it quits.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mfYws534oK8/UjUKj-iLzGI/AAAAAAAACAU/aoln00QKK5Y/s1600/Start+of+Hurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mfYws534oK8/UjUKj-iLzGI/AAAAAAAACAU/aoln00QKK5Y/s320/Start+of+Hurt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am ready to go!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first thing on my agenda for the day
was getting to a shop where I could buy bakery treats. I achieved this about two hours into the
ride. I’m not entirely sure where this
was, maybe Speers Point. After that I
was pretty happy knowing that I would have enough food to last me a good
while. The whole first day just feels
like a big blur. There were lots of
sections I couldn’t ride, had to push and got a little lost on several
occasions. As it was getting dark I
started to feel like I was a bit behind schedule. Not that I knew what the schedule should
be. I arrived in Cessnock at around 8pm. I was happy to see civilisation, feeling very
tired and a bit sore. My legs felt fine,
my back and arms were what hurt. I had
scratches from bushes on my arms that made me look like I was someone with
serious self harm issues. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UGff_xwo0xM/UjUKkeBNSoI/AAAAAAAACAc/xtSTwPk6j_o/s1600/scratches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UGff_xwo0xM/UjUKkeBNSoI/AAAAAAAACAc/xtSTwPk6j_o/s320/scratches.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The HuRT kind of is a form of self harm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I found a Chinese Takeaway, went in and
ordered and when I came back there was a very bearded man waiting with my bike,
Brad! It was great having a chat and
hearing how the others were going. He
had seen Ollie earlier in the day and said he was super stoked on the
ride. He also suggested that from here I
ride up the hill out of Cessnock and camp a little past the lookout, warning me
that the climb was pretty tough. I
imagined the worst possible trail I could just to prepare myself but was
pleasantly surprised to find it was a gravel road all the way to the lookout,
and then a nice trail from there. This
was the only pleasant surprise in regards to trails and expectations. I was so tired I stopped riding at only
9.30pm and set up camp, waking at 5.30 the next morning. So I had a huge sleep but still didn’t feel
that perky the next morning. Thankfully
the Paxton shop opens at 6am even on Sundays.
I got a slightly warmed pie and a coffee and made my way towards the
start of the Great North Walk which would take me up into the Watagans. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vL7QvO0mek4/UjUKiZ9trtI/AAAAAAAAB_4/_cM7VCz5x8s/s1600/Heidi+at+Cessnock+Hurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vL7QvO0mek4/UjUKiZ9trtI/AAAAAAAAB_4/_cM7VCz5x8s/s320/Heidi+at+Cessnock+Hurt.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinese takeaway at Cessnock.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In the description on the Hurt website it
mentions ‘man handling your bike up some fairly rocky out crops’ in relation to
the climb after Freemans Waterhole. It
doesn’t say anything about these kinds of manoeuvres for the climb up into the
Watagans after Paxton. When scrambling
up the side of the mountain this occurred to me and I wondered if these ones
aren’t worth mentioning, what must the next ones be like? Eventually, after a lot of pushing, pulling
and grunting I made it to the top and was greeted by lovely views and nice fire
road trail. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I did have one very confusing navigational
problem which sent me trudging through the bush and wandering around in circles
probably wasting about an hour’s worth of time.
Morale was pretty low at this point.
What kept me going was the fact I wasn’t in a very easy to be rescued
position, I had to keep going until I was near civilisation for someone to come
pick me up. Further down the road were
trails that I had ridden earlier with Ross and a bunch of keen mountain
bikers. Once the trails started looking
familiar I started to make better progress.
I managed to get myself to Cooranbong where I had a big sit down and ate
lots of food. While I was sitting in the
shade a man jumped out of his car down the road and gave me a big thumps up,
told me I was doing great and to keep going.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So with that encouragement I decided to
push through to Freemans Waterhole and then see how far I could get after
that. This was the turning point for me,
where I committed to getting it down as soon as possible. I also found Coke-a -Cola. I drank a can at Cooranbong. I felt so good and road the section between
Cooranbong and Freemans Waterhole really well.
I couldn’t quite figure out why I felt so good until finally it dawned
on me... the coke. It had such a huge
impact on my riding, I wonder if it should be added to the band substances
list. (NOT!) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Once at Freemans Waterhole I decided to use
the public toilets to try and clean up a bit.
I washed my face and arms so that I was almost presentable enough to go
into the store. I still got some funny
looks when ordering my subway sandwich.
I sat in a dazed state eating and thinking about what I had to do
next. I had a feeling that the next section
might be the hardest to come yet, but dared to hope that it would be like the
climb out of Cessnock up to the lookout, smooth gravel road. Those hopes were crushed less than five
minutes out of Freemans. I recall
standing at the foot of a ‘rocky outcrop’ wondering how in the world I was
going to get myself AND my bike up there?!?!
I’m not sure how, but I did. I
think darkness was an advantage at this point because if I could see how far
there was to fall I probably would have freaked out. I kept going at record snail pace. The
motivation now was to get as much of this hard stuff done so that in the
morning it would be behind me. Finally I
found myself riding downhill rather than pushing up hill so I just kept going.
At 11.30pm I realised that I was pretty close to the finish, about 30ks to
go. I did some quick guesstimations and
figured that at the pace I was going if I pushed through it would mean I’d
finish around 2 or 3am. Not ideal. So I put up camp to finish it off in the
morning. </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">When I pulled into the finish at the surf
club I wasn’t sure that it was truly the end.
It didn’t feel definite enough. I
wanted to phone Ross and ask, but my phone was dead. I asked a passerby if there was a pay phone
close, and he offered his mobile phone for me to use. Ross confirmed that I was at the finish,
congratulated me and informed me that Brad was on his way to pick me up. How lucky am I? So spoilt.
Brad and I sat at the beach for a little while and chatted about the
event, then he drove me to Ross and Suses’ place where I had a shower and Suse
made me coffee and toast, yum. She even
dropped me off at the train station. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7oNj3gUSqPw/UjUKizjspHI/AAAAAAAACAE/zh18HL8GxKw/s1600/Heidi+at+Finish+Hurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7oNj3gUSqPw/UjUKizjspHI/AAAAAAAACAE/zh18HL8GxKw/s320/Heidi+at+Finish+Hurt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Man it felt good to get home and sleep in
my bed. Mean while Ollie was still
riding the big hurt. To put things into
perspective, I rode 325kms in 2 day, 2 hours and 15 minutes. Ollie rode more than twice that distance and
only took a day longer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Hurt was really hard. It was probably the hardest physical
challenge I’ve ever attempted. Parts of
it were heaps of fun. The overall experience
has given me confidence in my ability to ride hard stuff, to ride for a long
time and to be brave at night camping on my own. Go me. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span lang="EN-US"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">I
was surprised by how many people were watching me, people I don’t even know. I am really grateful<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=37155776" name="_GoBack"></a> to
Ross, Suse and Brad for giving me a place to sleep, picking me up and generally
being super supportive</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">. </span></span></div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-57795284654984078072013-07-30T18:51:00.001-07:002013-07-30T19:13:15.776-07:00Getting yo' freak on at the 3 Ring Circus!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VvINojTCMtk/Ufhgf2IwtkI/AAAAAAAAB98/z2LU-lvHr_w/s1600/Hoops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VvINojTCMtk/Ufhgf2IwtkI/AAAAAAAAB98/z2LU-lvHr_w/s400/Hoops.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adults and children enthralled by the cirtastic spectacle of the 3 Ring Circus!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my not insignificant history of MTB
racing, themed races have been as rare as platypus teeth and I can say with
certainty that a circus themed event was the last place I’d expect to be riding
my bike.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span lang="EN-NZ">But this last weekend under the slick
organisational guidance of Huw from <a href="http://www.wildhorizons.com.au/" target="_blank">Wild Horizons</a>, and thanks to the extraordinary generosity of the folks at <a href="http://www.groundeffect.co.nz/" target="_blank">Ground Effect</a> I was treated to one of the
best weekends of mountain bike racing in recent memory.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The venue for the race was <a href="https://maps.google.com.au/maps?q=wingello+state+forest&hl=en&ll=-34.706763,150.179672&spn=0.080014,0.154324&oe=UTF-8&hq=state+forest&hnear=Wingello+New+South+Wales&t=m&z=13&iwloc=A" target="_blank">Wingello State Forest</a>, a plantation forest deep in the New South Wales southern highlands. This
magical location was the canvas for a fruitful collaboration between the organiser and a passionate local club, which has led to some seriously fun and flowy singletrack
loops which keep mountain bikers stoked and roadies quivering . </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nMado6Xr558/Ufhf-s8JZQI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/Kcsga0YswKQ/s1600/Gear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nMado6Xr558/Ufhf-s8JZQI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/Kcsga0YswKQ/s400/Gear.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Packing 'light' for a big weekend of racing</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At odds with the minimalist approach to camping I've adopted out of bikepacking necessity, I loaded up a gear bag with enough stuff to keep a family of wombats fed and housed for months. Being transported by car meant I could take items such as a cooker, stove and even a pillow. Living large!</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-egXshNDwyHI/UfhhN-XQmaI/AAAAAAAAB-E/fyRimNidXyY/s1600/Truck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-egXshNDwyHI/UfhhN-XQmaI/AAAAAAAAB-E/fyRimNidXyY/s400/Truck.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Transportation was provided by Dunlop's nature crushing cruisersaurus</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Speaking of transport, a buddy Dunlop had offered a seat in his modified monsterous Land Cruiser of nature domination, with enough rubber to squash even the most resilient 'roo and a gas guzzling tendancy that left us refuleing only an hour into the drive. I took the opportunity to down a sausage roll at the servo, and was reminded hours later in the evening race that as a prerace food, sausage flavoured meat products are less than ideal.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88tJgXwtJec/UfhhtWRIQeI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/W5Gg_QJZwUY/s1600/Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88tJgXwtJec/UfhhtWRIQeI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/W5Gg_QJZwUY/s400/Map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confusing loops we're easy to follow with great course marking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The format for the weeknd was two pronged, a night sprint race of 20 km length consisting of two loops, then a 50 km 'matinee' which took even even more of the great trails on offer. In between there were circus performers, kids races, campfires, trackstand comps, delicious food and the inevitable smack talk that comes part of pre-and post race banter.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9bF7QrKDRRg/UfhiDRY_AYI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/eIcpqrXrrpQ/s1600/Tent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9bF7QrKDRRg/UfhiDRY_AYI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/eIcpqrXrrpQ/s400/Tent.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John gets in touch with nature</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Opting for a geared bike proved to be a good choice, and I pulled off a surprising third in Open in the balls-out night race. I held on the the blistering pace of the leaders till their whippetness proved too much on a singletrack traverse. Most amsuing observation of the night was a roadie who in his first ever mtb race, and first ever night race, proceeded to ride off the singletrack and into the scrub at the earliest opportunity. <br />
<br />
My carbon drive/Rohloff setup blew a few minds on the finish line, with many asking how the system worked and why they hadn't seen it before. My raving answer to the latter was that it was the reuslt of a a conspiracy between conventional drivetrian manfacturers (Sram and Shimano) ala 'Who killed the electric car'.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y1apPP8qIL4/UfhieOVFSaI/AAAAAAAAB-o/GVOVV36hUoY/s1600/Probottle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y1apPP8qIL4/UfhieOVFSaI/AAAAAAAAB-o/GVOVV36hUoY/s400/Probottle.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gaz's pro support bottle handup (Petent pend.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The field of 160 for the night race was bolstered to 600 for the matinee the next morning. Another great start but I faded going into the second longer loop, rallying again to climb a steep pinch called the wall and reeling in the leading stragglers ahead. Untested bottle cages played havoc with my hydration strategy, throwing the precious water at the slightest bump. Fortunately I'd stashed a spare in the lap transition, although it was nothing on Gaz's setup. Mounting a bottle cage on a stick meant he could smash through transition without the need for a person to hand him the bottle. Gaz proved to be a great riding companion on the latter part of the race, and as the only rider to follow when I broke into the singletrack his pacing up the relatively grueling halfway hill was perfect. <br />
A fast final 8km saw my hanging on, but spying a fast line into the last corners I attacked and pulled off 4th in open. Through some miracle of mathematics I finished up 2nd in open men for the combined night and matinee events, so great to have some feedback on form before I tackle the epic alps that the <a href="http://www.trans-savoie.com/" target="_blank">Trans-Sasvoie</a> enduro has to offer in a few weeks time.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HXiSNT03oKM/Ufhi7BBRfHI/AAAAAAAAB-w/k_CXT7GBLAE/s1600/Juggling1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HXiSNT03oKM/Ufhi7BBRfHI/AAAAAAAAB-w/k_CXT7GBLAE/s400/Juggling1.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This juggler was easily the most cordinated amongst a sea of hamfisted bikers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While post race fatigue set in and race stroies were retold, I heard one of the announcers propose a hand stand competition, to wich I countered that given the awesomeness of bikes it should really be a trackstand-off. Putting aside lasagne lunch and straining to keep quivering quads at bay, I challenged a cyclocross riding hipster to a battle of balance, pulling muscle memory from bike polo sessions of long ago. No amount of smack talk could put him off his game but when we were asked to take a hand off the bars, I managed to keep wobbles at bay long enough to score the prize. Just reward for the days I've spent honing this skill at traffic lights in NZ and Australia!<br />
<br />
I'll freely admit that I'm not the biggest fan of the circus and their associations with animal cruelty and macarbe clowns. Las Vegas' epic <a href="http://www.circuscircus.com/dining/circus_buffet.aspx" target="_blank">Circus Circus</a> buffet did a lot to win my favour for circus themed establishments, and the 3 Ring Circus took it a step further. A fantastic weekend of close racing and an exceptionally well run event. I'm even contemplating racing next year dressed as a clown!<br />
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-17371784362107258702013-07-30T17:29:00.000-07:002013-07-30T17:29:00.218-07:00Australian National CX series Round 4 - Terrey Hills<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Some sweet action shots from the race <a href="http://dav058.wix.com/dave-bateman-photo" target="_blank">Dave Bateman</a> and <a href="http://fameandspear.tumblr.com/photography" target="_blank">Andy Rogers</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vto8aNObY9U/UfhZmDBBmUI/AAAAAAAAB80/ir-3vHFRmfw/s1600/NSCX3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vto8aNObY9U/UfhZmDBBmUI/AAAAAAAAB80/ir-3vHFRmfw/s400/NSCX3.JPG" width="271" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yqdcap1zLVc/UfhZoNTHBdI/AAAAAAAAB88/osanUvB4eUg/s1600/NSCX4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yqdcap1zLVc/UfhZoNTHBdI/AAAAAAAAB88/osanUvB4eUg/s320/NSCX4.JPG" width="216" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FuFRLg69j48/UfhZraCcf8I/AAAAAAAAB9E/PhE5OTWowVg/s1600/NSCX2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FuFRLg69j48/UfhZraCcf8I/AAAAAAAAB9E/PhE5OTWowVg/s400/NSCX2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PgZTJYy8lHc/UfhZU5lPJLI/AAAAAAAAB8s/zJ1QMrmPa_o/s1600/NSCX1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PgZTJYy8lHc/UfhZU5lPJLI/AAAAAAAAB8s/zJ1QMrmPa_o/s400/NSCX1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-32024346653092705072013-07-09T03:24:00.001-07:002013-07-09T03:34:23.139-07:00Fat; where it is at!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BdyYb5byJCw/Udvh3ksjE1I/AAAAAAAAB5s/1w_MHRPvVdA/s1600/Fatty+shred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BdyYb5byJCw/Udvh3ksjE1I/AAAAAAAAB5s/1w_MHRPvVdA/s400/Fatty+shred.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shredding the super bowl at Stockton Dunes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After much procrastination and bumping of gums, Heidi and I took
the opportunity of a free and sunny Sunday to meet up with some and awesomely
hospitable chums in Newcastle and experience some sand riding aboard fat bikes.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I’d first learnt of the amazing prowess of these fat tyred
steeds through the ravings of Ross and Brad, who portrayed them as a sort of
mystical flying unicorn which could take you to places you’d never even dreamt
of.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Globally, the morbidly obese tyre carcass is gaining
traction (excuse the pun), with sprinkles
of the odd bikes occupying the floors of pornographic bike shows like the North
‘merican Handmade Bicycle Show (NAHBS). With mainstream brands like Kona releasing
a fatty from their factory this year, it won’t be long till they are the next
29er.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Initially the brainchild of perennial curmudgeons Surly, the
bikes are based around a tyre at least 4 inches width, achieved through a rim
of excessive girth. Coupled with curvaceous shaping of frame and fork to fit
tyres and an uber wide bottom bracket, a fatty is formed. Dropping the pressure as low as 4 psi creates
a monstrous footprint which yields unheralded traction on all sorts of sketchy
surfaces like sand and snow. It also imparts crude but cushy undamped
suspension that does a great deal to smooth out the trail.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KiaRp4LUBH0/Udvh4Tdt-tI/AAAAAAAAB6A/tdrAQ5Jwk7A/s1600/Fatty+smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KiaRp4LUBH0/Udvh4Tdt-tI/AAAAAAAAB6A/tdrAQ5Jwk7A/s400/Fatty+smile.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiles for miles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When hopping aboard the Moonlander I was kindly lent by
Kedan (The Bike Bag Dude), my first reaction was an ear to ear smile, the
ridiculously proportioned tyre inspiring an almost child like glee. Rolling out
in a fatilla of some six fatties, we pointed our big tyres for the dunes.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6BA7ZY6EL2c/Udvj8bReLtI/AAAAAAAAB7M/GYAwt-4kGe8/s1600/IMAG0861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6BA7ZY6EL2c/Udvj8bReLtI/AAAAAAAAB7M/GYAwt-4kGe8/s400/IMAG0861.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fatilla stops for a sift</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our ride started with a fire road composed of loose
moto-churned sand which I wouldn’t have got more than a single frustrating
pedal stroke in on a normal tyre. The fatties handled this with aplomb, only
protesting when I crossed into a patch of loose sand. Here instead of the
expected wheel sapping hump it felt like
riding on jelly with no hint of impeded
forward progress.</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our guide and photographer Ross had mapped out a sifty route
which took in some of the Stockton dunes best offerings, and we quickly sought
out one aptly dubbed the ‘super bowl’ which featured a vertical drop of about
50m and some steep sided banks perfectly suited to carving turns. Letting go of
the brakes and getting some speed on the descent felt suspiciously like being
on skis on snow, the tyres drifting in a
delightfully predictable way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--D_78sR7lBM/Udvh59t-aoI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/PUKHDUH9Lps/s1600/Heidi+fatty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--D_78sR7lBM/Udvh59t-aoI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/PUKHDUH9Lps/s400/Heidi+fatty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi tackles the dunes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What was most mind blowing, was how loose the sand was, so
loose that dunes were challenging even to walk up, as we discovered when we
took some more adventurous lines later in the ride. But with some gratuitous
use of granny gear and smooth pedalling we were back at the top of the dune
fizzing and ready for another run.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d25NlA_pxPw/UdvkRPnYHcI/AAAAAAAAB8E/eS76SGxwCvE/s1600/IMAG0864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d25NlA_pxPw/UdvkRPnYHcI/AAAAAAAAB8E/eS76SGxwCvE/s400/IMAG0864.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ross and Ollie emerge from the brambles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not content with carving chilled turns, Ross passed off
photographer duties to Brad, and sought out the steepest, gnarliest dune he
could find. His high speed descent was accompanied by whoops then shouts as it
was halted by a nasty patch of brambles. He finally emerged smiling and
giggling and I had to give it a go. We found a second slope that ended in what
looked like a trail and screamed down it. Ross’ high speed too much even for the immense
traction of his fatty, sliding off the edge of the sandy ‘berm’ and scoring
some more face time with the brambles. Seems if you are willing to let go of
inhibitions and embrace sand in your eyes, ears and nose, there is a lot of fun
to be had on fat bikes!</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ0I7pWGHDs/Udvh6GDGaBI/AAAAAAAAB6g/kmPa_XLEyF4/s1600/Heidi+smiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ0I7pWGHDs/Udvh6GDGaBI/AAAAAAAAB6g/kmPa_XLEyF4/s400/Heidi+smiles.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi works on her fat tan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Heidi reported that finishing up on the ride, her face was
sore from smiling, which is as good a testimonial as any as to the sheer fun
factor of fat bikes. If you get an opportunity to ride one, give it a go! While
they won’t replace a normal MTB for everyday off roading, on the right terrain
they really are the bicycle equivalent of a bedazzled flying unicorn, opening
up a mind blowing world of previously unrideable terrain. I can see one of these
magical beasts finding a home in my herd of bikes, another +1 to add to the
already excessive N of bikes.</div>
</div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-53167583492525286922013-06-30T19:43:00.002-07:002013-06-30T19:43:42.723-07:00Rad^Mud<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qDfgiKqQXOk/UdDswuV7uTI/AAAAAAAAB5U/ER0LpLxi1wk/s1600/2013-06-30_12-43-47_812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qDfgiKqQXOk/UdDswuV7uTI/AAAAAAAAB5U/ER0LpLxi1wk/s400/2013-06-30_12-43-47_812.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cross season is in full swing here in ‘stralia but the
usually pleasant weather has meant rider have been without<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a muddy par cours to indulge their skinny
tires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Riders were however in luck, as what
felt like a month of dreary rain set up the Newcastle velodrome CX course for a
mud bath of the filthiest kind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shuttling to the race with Sean, a key instigator in the
Sydney CX scene, we arrived to watch the support races tear the turf to shreds.
Before their start water was standing 4” deep in places, and by the end of 40
minutes it was a thick brown slop with the consistency of porridge. It was to
be the stage for one of the single dirtiest races I’ve had the pleasure of
riding in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sean and I abandoned our plans of a practice lap, holding on
to the vestiges of civility offered by my light blue Carbon Drive kit by
setting up rollers under a tiny awning, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sheltering
form the onslaught of freefalling <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>felines and canines. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q02po-WT9qA/UdDmad-c0MI/AAAAAAAAB34/uYHYQtijpjM/s1600/2013-06-30_12-43-54_54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q02po-WT9qA/UdDmad-c0MI/AAAAAAAAB34/uYHYQtijpjM/s400/2013-06-30_12-43-54_54.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The race commissarie wasn’t half a funny bastard, taking
time to give an extended welcoming speech from beneath his umbrella while
riders shivered and cursed the rain. When he finally shouted ‘Go!’ and the 40 rider
field hit the fast back straight, my vision became splattered with brown splotches
as eyelids blinked desperately to clear a path to follow between the surging riders.
As seems to be a theme I started well, holding a solid 5<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> in the
field and clawing back the leaders on the runs.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xV3lkY-nF_k/UdDnV-xrHWI/AAAAAAAAB4M/N6n1R3YY44Q/s749/Run1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xV3lkY-nF_k/UdDnV-xrHWI/AAAAAAAAB4M/N6n1R3YY44Q/s400/Run1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-teH7hAJs95o/UdDnow5Kq0I/AAAAAAAAB4Y/VSkhsfJA5XE/s811/rUN2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-teH7hAJs95o/UdDnow5Kq0I/AAAAAAAAB4Y/VSkhsfJA5XE/s400/rUN2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos <a href="http://www.theherald.com.au/story/1607204/gallery-novice-wins-cyclocross/?cs=306" target="_blank">Dean Osland</a> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My downfall in this race was failure to pick the right cog
ratio on by Raleigh Hodala. Thinking that the balance of the course was fast
and flat, I’d kept it at 64” and while this proved great for back straight and
around the ‘drome, trying to get on top of it through the muddy twisty sections
proved to be like wading through treacle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For next time when the course is this sloppy, an MTB ratio of 52” would
be far more appropriate, if a little less manly. Check <a href="http://www.nbnnews.com.au/index.php/2013/06/30/cyclocross-riders-happy-as-pigs-in-mud/" target="_blank">NBN News</a> for some awesome race footage including your truly showing some (lack of) running form!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D5gqWq1aPzQ/UdDrwik_spI/AAAAAAAAB5A/M3AOhreB0yQ/s829/Velo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D5gqWq1aPzQ/UdDrwik_spI/AAAAAAAAB5A/M3AOhreB0yQ/s400/Velo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-toxZsZBOTOU/UdDn1aV4RxI/AAAAAAAAB4g/z4MMVtZQaGA/s796/Random.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-toxZsZBOTOU/UdDn1aV4RxI/AAAAAAAAB4g/z4MMVtZQaGA/s400/Random.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos <a href="http://www.theherald.com.au/story/1607204/gallery-novice-wins-cyclocross/?cs=306" target="_blank">Dean Osland</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While I was battling and pulling out the best facial
contortions I could muster, It was a blast, due in no small part to the
spectacularly rowdy crowd and bangin’ tunes on offer from a DJ at the course
high point. This single feature set a festive mood and you’d be hard pressed to
find anyone there on the day who didn’t finish up with a smile, or at least a
crooked grin. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_rNIhI2ycJI/UdDqWaiC_CI/AAAAAAAAB4w/8HprJVG1QUE/s551/Run3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_rNIhI2ycJI/UdDqWaiC_CI/AAAAAAAAB4w/8HprJVG1QUE/s400/Run3.JPG" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Grant Moylan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I finished up the race in 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> place with a mud
beard as if I’d just polished off seven courses of the stuff. A power wash for
the bike and shower for the limbs, the latter plagued by some dodgy drainage which
quickly rendered the floor of the bathroom as filthy as the lead in to the
velodrome on course. We packed up Sean’s Carolla and drove back to realty, content
at having indulged our dreams of racing cross in proper European style mud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-40344384437533700922013-06-16T20:56:00.000-07:002013-06-16T20:56:02.078-07:00Cross-eyed at Terrey Hills<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Drt2bha-nwE/Ub6A8ekZ3rI/AAAAAAAAB3g/ZZMDfWEHsE4/s1600/CX1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Drt2bha-nwE/Ub6A8ekZ3rI/AAAAAAAAB3g/ZZMDfWEHsE4/s400/CX1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
The past weekend proved to be a Sydney s(t)unner weather wise, and what better way to make the most of it than to bury oneself deep in lactic laced quicksand, spinning the legs in a fruitless attempt to escape from the 40 min smash-fest. As the second round of the MWMTB Club Winter series, the technical Terrey Hills course made up for a lack of actual hills with a tight twisty race course that demanded and rewarded precision riding in equal measure. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Features included a lethal corner-barrier-stairs-barrier run up combo, a token muddy stretch, a gut clenching drop into a BMX tabletop, and a forgiving PVC barrier which was usually reserved for the equine inhabitants of the park. Check this sweet video <a href="http://vimeo.com/68437738" target="_blank">here</a> and Dave Bateman's great photography of the race <a href="http://issuu.com/lenuge/docs/cyclo150613/44" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Aboard my Gates Carbon Drive Hodala CX, I had made a departure from standard procedure by strapping on a set of deep dish carbon tubular wheels from my road racing days. With Schwalbe Racing Ralph rubber carefully glued on, the lower pressures afforded by the tubs proved to be a revelation. The immense traction and bump absorption brought joy to the ride, at least as much joy as can be had in these short bursts of anaerobic suffering. Safe to say I'm hooked on tubs for off road racing, and will take my chances with riding them on road on the long commute to and from the race course.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IVz2PgtqHvY/Ub6A5-b9olI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/Na57c4yuzLE/s1600/CX2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IVz2PgtqHvY/Ub6A5-b9olI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/Na57c4yuzLE/s400/CX2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With almost 2 months having passed since my last race, my expectations of performance weren't high. Punching my single (fortunately well guessed gear) up to speed, I sucked onto the wheel of the lead bunch. It wasn't too last however, as when tailing off the back of the group I got gapped when a rider decided to run rather than hop a barrier. Despite desperate attempts to get back on, the legs simply weren't willing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I faded into lap three when the efforts of the previous two caught up on me but rallied back meekly and pulled off fifth. The course proved to be well suited to a singlespeed, so with a bit of high intensity riding and some effort to dial in my lines on grassy turns, I hope to be able to hang on at the pointier end.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A big distinction between this slick event and Christchurch's <a href="http://southerncrosscx.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Southern Cross CX</a> was the seriousness of it all. Despite the ridiculousness of pushing skinny tired steeds over barriers, paddocks and BMX tracks, there wasn't a costume or air horn in site! Perhaps it will just take a while for the rowdier aspects of the sport to catch on here in super civilized Sydney.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bring on round 3 and 4 which double as the Sydney national series. Till then I've made it my task to boost the riding rowdiness of the local populace. Get amongst it Sydney!</div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-36858734223376195162013-06-10T16:10:00.000-07:002013-06-10T16:10:22.852-07:00Scone; fresh baked with butter, jam and a dash of cream<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aPTeZPf-gqk/UbZWG_vjFiI/AAAAAAAAB0U/5zwxSVlY4DM/s1600/Scone+to+Gloucester.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aPTeZPf-gqk/UbZWG_vjFiI/AAAAAAAAB0U/5zwxSVlY4DM/s400/Scone+to+Gloucester.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It had been a longstanding plan to join
Ross (aka the <a href="http://www.theunknownrider.com/" target="_blank">Unknown Rider</a>) and some of his chums on a bikepacking trip
into the Barrington tops, a high plateau draped in rainforest inland from
Newcastle, New South Wales. While riding induced back spasms ruled out Ross in
the week leading up to the start of this particular ride, the show went on, led
by bearded Barrington campaigner Brad (B-rad) with locals Jason, Gaz and newbie
Chris.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q3okeI7t9C4/UbZWiMpW9OI/AAAAAAAAB0c/juU3eKu9eSY/s1600/Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q3okeI7t9C4/UbZWiMpW9OI/AAAAAAAAB0c/juU3eKu9eSY/s400/Group.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brad points out an epic trail in the distance</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dashing away from work with my bike and
kit, I hopped aboard the express train to Newcastle. While limited space meant
I couldn’t take a book, entertainment came from a fellow passenger providing a
crack impersonation of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RjC-vh06_c" target="_blank">Trent from Punchy</a>. His Australianisims and cussing on
all manner of topics from Fords to boat people kept the carriage lively.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Waiting at the train station was Ross, who
had kindly offered to give me a ride to Brad’s house. From there we loaded up
the Volkswagon of doom and headed for Scone, grabbing some sleep and our last
night in a proper bed before we were to embrace the bush. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lld3tuE4PYU/UbZW_N57_7I/AAAAAAAAB0k/2eBV-NnKL0o/s1600/Scone+digs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lld3tuE4PYU/UbZW_N57_7I/AAAAAAAAB0k/2eBV-NnKL0o/s400/Scone+digs.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Scone digs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Newbie Chris proved to hold on to the
vestiges of civilisation for much longer than the rest of us, grabbing a
morning shower while the rest of us didn’t bother, knowing our skin was to
become crusted with the hard earned filth that only a solid bikepack can bring.</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7dhO8Xy444/UbZXbd-0S9I/AAAAAAAAB0s/KB-L-es8iTg/s1600/2013-06-08_13-44-37_329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7dhO8Xy444/UbZXbd-0S9I/AAAAAAAAB0s/KB-L-es8iTg/s400/2013-06-08_13-44-37_329.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie working on his filth crust</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For this ride I’d opted for a Freeload rack
with a reprise of the solar charging system which I’d unceremoniously dropped
after the disastrous showing of my prototype integrated rack in the Great
Southern Brevet (link). While the early morning mist out of Scone produced more
dew than volts, by the time the clouds had cleared and we’d made the pub for
second brunch the battery was charging happily.</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4CoZkfYN1Ug/UbZXsmfPQ3I/AAAAAAAAB00/1vukGxc2bg0/s1600/Solar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4CoZkfYN1Ug/UbZXsmfPQ3I/AAAAAAAAB00/1vukGxc2bg0/s400/Solar.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solar panels at suboptimal efficiency</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The road to Moonan Flat had been of the coarsely
chipped variety which makes for easy going on treadlies, but as we rounded the
corner and headed to the base of the hill we hit the sweet smooth
dirt that willed our bicycles up the climb.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PB6DLZ_1rt8/UbZX7waYpJI/AAAAAAAAB08/D-4l8F0VtFw/s1600/Jason+climbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PB6DLZ_1rt8/UbZX7waYpJI/AAAAAAAAB08/D-4l8F0VtFw/s400/Jason+climbing.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason heads skyward</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And what a climb it was. Topping out at
1500m, the 20km climb packed a solid 1200 vertical metre punch which got me
pretty stoked. This particular fondness for long climbs is one of the more
difficult things to explain (especially to non bikers) but a big climb like
this (reminiscent of the ones in the Tour Divide) really is a fantastic
experience. Twisting and turning up the mountainside while view become more and
more expansive by the minute. The higher you go the cooler the breeze <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>until finally you top out with satisfaction and
a bit of huff and a puff at the crest of the climb. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Up till the point I’d conquered the
Barrington plateau climb I was convinced that Australia held none of the long
ascending delights which are prolific in New Zealand, but this climb certainly
set the record straight.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKNI-D_PH8w/UbZYHrPeZwI/AAAAAAAAB1E/mz1p2Iss5dc/s1600/Views.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKNI-D_PH8w/UbZYHrPeZwI/AAAAAAAAB1E/mz1p2Iss5dc/s400/Views.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The landmark at the end of this particular
monster was an amusing Dingo fence, presumably to keep the pesky baby stealing
critters from the national park on the other side. As one witty graffiti artist
pointed out, the fence didn’t present a particularly strong deterrent.</span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZN6ENC1qsxQ/UbZYrQQYz2I/AAAAAAAAB1U/ifC-RWNeGoc/s1600/Dingo+fence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZN6ENC1qsxQ/UbZYrQQYz2I/AAAAAAAAB1U/ifC-RWNeGoc/s400/Dingo+fence.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dingos welcome</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now atop the Barrington Plateau, the grades
mellowed and just before dusk a claggy mist descended, the atmospheric
conditions mirroring the muddy double track which took us across the plateau to
within a stones throw of our destination for the night, Selby Alley hut. By the
time it had got properly dark I’d learned how to make the most of the slippery
track, keeping rolling speed up and using my dynamo light to illuminate the
small patch of jungle in my immediate periphery.</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hLHKihr9tWo/UbZY4nnw_-I/AAAAAAAAB1c/tsk7zweFTzk/s1600/Mist+descends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hLHKihr9tWo/UbZY4nnw_-I/AAAAAAAAB1c/tsk7zweFTzk/s400/Mist+descends.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mist descends</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Turning off down the corker, we switched
from a riding focus to searching for our accommodation, an illusive structure
built in 1955 which promised shelter from the drizzle, a glowing fire and water
for our dehydrated space food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A brief
but exciting encounter with a trail traversing wombat proved a small distraction,
but by the time we’d passed the waypoint and had seen no sign of a trail to the
hut, we decided to cut our losses and pitch our tents on one of the rare
trailside flat spots.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Poor Jason had neglected to bring a
mattress (though no fault of his own) and despite my assurances, the lumpy
tussocks didn’t prove that ergonomic. He was kept awake by the groaning of what
we at first thought was a sasquatch, but later proved to be a windfall tree
hung up perilously close to our impromptu campsite. I’m not certain that paper
thin cuben fibre would have offered much protection from this falling hulk!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1W0AiH8B1E8/UbZZ5nqf4WI/AAAAAAAAB18/xMIIjIo6I2M/s1600/Treeofdoom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1W0AiH8B1E8/UbZZ5nqf4WI/AAAAAAAAB18/xMIIjIo6I2M/s400/Treeofdoom.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree of doom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">B-rad and the others soon turned up and we
shared stories of the days before grabbing an awesome nights<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sleep (except Jason), lulled into sasquatch
filled dreams by the groaning of the forest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Morning cast a completely different light
on the situation, and on riding back up the Corker we spied the well disguised
trail which had alluded us at night. Slithering down the trail and stepping
carefully across the log bridge we found the hut, and a family of some 13
hyperactive kids who had spent the night up there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OS5gcHTCQus/UbZaI_uB3wI/AAAAAAAAB2E/j6i_mvB92pw/s1600/Selby+Alley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OS5gcHTCQus/UbZaI_uB3wI/AAAAAAAAB2E/j6i_mvB92pw/s400/Selby+Alley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Selby Alley Hut</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h8dHDH2JVGU/UbZa2yijoAI/AAAAAAAAB2k/GC_5kPhNd1A/s1600/Waterfall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h8dHDH2JVGU/UbZa2yijoAI/AAAAAAAAB2k/GC_5kPhNd1A/s400/Waterfall.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How's the serenity?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Saying our hellos, goodbyes, and restocking
with water we kicked off for Wombat Flats, then the Link trail; an exceptional
piece of trail which really made the ride. It was wet and stacked with poorly
assembled babies’ head boulders which scattered and tumbled as tires grappled
for traction. Like a long climb, a technical one gets me stoked, and the fact
that any ups were rewarded with giggle inducing slippery downs made this trail
the real deal. It was akin to the technical parts of Canterbury’s Wharfedale,
complete with the odd fallen tree and wheel swallowing bog which Rohloff and
drive belt munched through without protest. The sheer amount of sticks and
vines which littered the track would pose a threat for dangly do dads on a
derailleur, but with nothing to snag I could charge through the maelstrom with
relative ease.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m7Wz0d3xKhI/UbZcSgUUUTI/AAAAAAAAB3E/F9d6V_83hMU/s1600/Link.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m7Wz0d3xKhI/UbZcSgUUUTI/AAAAAAAAB3E/F9d6V_83hMU/s400/Link.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason shreds the link</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lunch and another quaint hut and we pointed
downhill, taking in an eye watering 20km drop from Gloucester tops to flats,
spinning out, tucking and finding the limits of traction on the rain slicked
dirt road. Only the odd uphill car quashed the buzz, with fear of becoming a
hood ornament keeping us from going proper fast. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Elation of the climb over, we rolled
through the delightful farmlets and lumpy foothills to Gloucester, in time for
a beer, dinner and a lift back to the train station.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-NZ"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">B-rad played the role of ride instigator exceptionally
well, and the post ride mood at the pub was buoyant, with a particularly stoked
Chris vowing to throw his helmet into the bikepacking game. Personally, after
my small taster of the terrain on offer in Newcastle I’ll be back with bells on.
Perhaps most exciting is the Big Hurt, which links some of the best trails (ala
Link track) with epic climbs for 750 km
of totally awesome adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All going
to plan I’ll be ling up for this monster in late August, safe in the knowledge
of the awesomeness in store!</span></span></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-84889044404487136832013-05-06T21:19:00.001-07:002013-05-06T21:19:27.261-07:00Safari, Kiribati Style! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sX1IppmFkZU/UYh9dxt2QTI/AAAAAAAAByI/f8HvWETa8BM/s1600/Picplanning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sX1IppmFkZU/UYh9dxt2QTI/AAAAAAAAByI/f8HvWETa8BM/s400/Picplanning.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Expedition planning underway with local Amon taking the lead</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having recently started work for the World Bank based out of
the Sydney office, I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to
visit some far flung places in the Pacific like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiribati" target="_blank">Kiribati</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As an engineer I feel<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there is a great
deal basic infrastructure can do for these developing countries, and anything
we can do to help the friendly pacific people with their dire social, economic
and environmental problems is a good thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before you dismiss these trips excessive junkets at the
expense of the Bank’s kindly donors , I can assure you the pace of work while
on ‘mission’ is frenetic, with 12 hours days and missed lunches not uncommon.
The latter can prove particularly hard to bear for this particular glutton,
although when it finally arrives, the rich deep fried Kiribati supper <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>certainly restores the calorie balance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Occasionally though I’ll get an opportunity to escape the
madness and visit a special location which really lifts the trips from mere
work visits into the rarefied air of adventure. When this happens I can’t help
but be stoked to be working for The Bank, as they are colloquially known.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4UM8NtCnvEc/UYh938q3nYI/AAAAAAAAByg/PnnWrAN6wzE/s1600/Picboat1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4UM8NtCnvEc/UYh938q3nYI/AAAAAAAAByg/PnnWrAN6wzE/s400/Picboat1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pride of the Kiribati feelt at our disposal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whilst sea level rise is widely touted as the single factor
which will spell the end to the coral atolls of Kiribati, water supply is
perhaps a more critical issue, with the entire supply coming from a collection
of thin freshwater lenses stored beneath the narrow strips of sand. The two
issues are linked, with rising sea pushing salt water into the precious fresh
water layer, rendering the resource useless. <a href="http://www.theglobalmail.org/feature/kiribati-a-nation-going-under/590/" target="_blank">Here</a> is an article giving
a good summary of the nation's predicament. Currently the people of Kiribati only receive half
of the recommended minimum, a mere 20 litres per person per day. Any measures
to supplement this with capture of rain or additional groundwater are of
crucial importance for the people of Kiribati.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last Saturday under the guise of visiting remote rainwater
collection and infiltration gallery sites we boarded the pride of the Kiribati
fleet for the islets of North Tarawa. The safety of the craft left a bit to be
desired, with protruding wood screws from the transom ripping one of our
parties shorts (thankfully not undies), and a UV weathered life ring which I’m
certain would have disintegrated on impact with the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately on this fine day the tepid waters
of the lagoon were far from dangerous.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAihGEXx6E/UYh-HAfHlUI/AAAAAAAAByo/qiR2DkE6qPE/s1600/picboat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VAihGEXx6E/UYh-HAfHlUI/AAAAAAAAByo/qiR2DkE6qPE/s400/picboat2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain at the helm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; tab-stops: 100.5pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’d heard atoll legends of international consultants being
lost at sea for months after popping out for a spot of fishing, and had stocked
up with enough provisions to keep us alive for days. A raid of the local store
yielded numerous canned delicacies of Chinese origin, notably a spicy black
bean ‘marine fish’, and pork giblets mixed with bamboo shoots. As one of our
party pointed out, the former was rather odd given the abundance of fresh fish
in the surrounding ocean.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o_RRpvTP14A/UYh-i_D_6LI/AAAAAAAABzA/5hR0jUB1j3A/s1600/picAmon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o_RRpvTP14A/UYh-i_D_6LI/AAAAAAAABzA/5hR0jUB1j3A/s400/picAmon.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Generally limited stocks at this North Tarawa store</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In comparison to barren South Tarawa, where a dirth of
organic matter makes plant life limited to coconut palms, the North is a
relative jungle, with lush trees providing ample cover for post lunch napping.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mgaOLh4HDsk/UYh-zl8KbMI/AAAAAAAABzI/0_oiRfMI78c/s1600/piccoconut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mgaOLh4HDsk/UYh-zl8KbMI/AAAAAAAABzI/0_oiRfMI78c/s400/piccoconut.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coconut fronds made for a prime napping spot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After inspecting a couple of roofs which we hope to use to collect
water and fill large rainwater tanks, we jumped on the back of a flogged Toyota
light truck and bounced and bumped ourselves all the way to the Northern tip of
the Island at Naa. Here we found sites of some historical significance
including in reverse chronological order the final Buariki battle of the savage
Tarawa war (WWII), the site of the atolls historic leprosy colony, and the
first European landing site.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d2voy0GRoDk/UYh--xbabFI/AAAAAAAABzQ/mLoA4nBJDyM/s1600/Pictruck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d2voy0GRoDk/UYh--xbabFI/AAAAAAAABzQ/mLoA4nBJDyM/s400/Pictruck.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Backside bruising truck safari</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wading back to the boat just as the sun began to set, we
were treated to clear skies and an amazing display of astronomical
illumination. I lay on the stern deck of the boat and stared up at the heavens,
the boat carefully edging<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>south in the
shallow lagoon, water lapping at the hull.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LnHPxWIojI/UYh9iLqVxuI/AAAAAAAAByU/ksRbw2cJfo8/s1600/picsunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LnHPxWIojI/UYh9iLqVxuI/AAAAAAAAByU/ksRbw2cJfo8/s400/picsunset.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunet at Naa, Tarawa's northen tip</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While the adventure didn’t involve bicycles or even a
mountain, I was very fortunate to see North Tarawa, and will endeavor to return
again when time and equipment allow on my next mission. A colleague has
purchased a mountain bike for the princely sum of $150 and after a brief sortie
to test its wading capability I’m confident that it’ll be up to the task of a
North Tarawa round trip. Will keep you posted how I get on!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kRbe6Ay5dK0/UYh_yrtN82I/AAAAAAAABzk/k4jmmXu-swU/s1600/bike1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kRbe6Ay5dK0/UYh_yrtN82I/AAAAAAAABzk/k4jmmXu-swU/s400/bike1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OwF7PzPXzpo/UYiAAwB1QqI/AAAAAAAABzw/WKT83MWbrlE/s1600/bike2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OwF7PzPXzpo/UYiAAwB1QqI/AAAAAAAABzw/WKT83MWbrlE/s400/bike2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Next stop Australia!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
</div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37155776.post-1812475966469055622013-03-30T21:42:00.002-07:002013-03-30T23:08:36.444-07:00Escape to the Blue ‘Mountains’<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OQtn0NT7qX0/UVe7na1vAZI/AAAAAAAABwI/RXCfpo8CjHw/s1600/2013-03-29_12-06-47_403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OQtn0NT7qX0/UVe7na1vAZI/AAAAAAAABwI/RXCfpo8CjHw/s400/2013-03-29_12-06-47_403.jpg" width="223" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bikes + Train = Fun ahead</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Easter weekend dawned and Heidi and I took the opportunity
to escape the madness of our new Sydney home to head for the hills. Hills is an
appropriate description with the most extreme geographical projections in close
proximity; The Blue Mountains only reaching a pitiful 1090m, a mere pimple by
New Zealand standards.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heralded by friends as one of the must visit places in New South
Wales, the Blue Mountains have been on the must do list since arrival, so
taking advantage of the great train service we loaded up with bikes with gear for
the scenic journey into the ‘mountains’.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ejepCeS7kQM/UVe7_XOQlDI/AAAAAAAABwQ/xminmVDZV0o/s1600/2013-03-29_18-38-17_389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ejepCeS7kQM/UVe7_XOQlDI/AAAAAAAABwQ/xminmVDZV0o/s400/2013-03-29_18-38-17_389.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How's the serenity?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heidi was riding her mountain bike for the first time in a
while, the clammniess of Brisbane making her roadbike her go to steed, but took
to the fat tires quickly, enjoying the even playing field that Ollie’s fully
laiden pack created on the uphill sections. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a lot of time on my El Commandante recently, I’d
decided to air up the fat tires and take out my more travel endowed El Chucho.
This would make me ready for any impromptu hucks that might eventuate, while
also getting me get used to the bike which would be my go to ride for the
<a href="http://www.trans-savoie.com/" target="_blank">Trans-Savoie</a> Enduro race I’ve signed up for in France this August. While
we weren’t expecting the Blue Mountains trails to rate highly on the gnarl
scale, I wanted to be ready for any extreme detours that might eventuate.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-34KerLbIG78/UVe84K-jhnI/AAAAAAAABww/6I7nK6wl7BM/s1600/2013-03-30_10-04-13_429+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-34KerLbIG78/UVe84K-jhnI/AAAAAAAABww/6I7nK6wl7BM/s400/2013-03-30_10-04-13_429+(2).jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gawking at Govett's Leap</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BlKyF8Gl87E/UVe9MNFLwxI/AAAAAAAABw4/M7s1wmYelgo/s1600/2013-03-29_15-25-13_144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BlKyF8Gl87E/UVe9MNFLwxI/AAAAAAAABw4/M7s1wmYelgo/s400/2013-03-29_15-25-13_144.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heidi on tent setup duty</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Arriving on Friday afternoon we set up camp, and realising
on completion that 4:30PM was probably too early to go to bed, we went
exploring down a promising trail from Perry’s Lookdown.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dropping 600m in 2km, this trail posted figures which would
compete with the epic descents of the Canterbury foothills for steepness, but
alas the sections were too steep, too littered with steps and chest impaling
hand rails to consider riding them. Or perhaps I’m just getting lame after too
much time across the ditch where properly gnarly trails are as rare as kangaroo
eggs</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qypAr3rE0lE/UVe9dTUuZ4I/AAAAAAAABxA/o_iRxjN9-nQ/s1600/2013-03-29_15-51-22_804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qypAr3rE0lE/UVe9dTUuZ4I/AAAAAAAABxA/o_iRxjN9-nQ/s400/2013-03-29_15-51-22_804.jpg" width="223" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would have ridden this if I had my knee pads</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day we headed further afield to explore some of the
trails which were mentioned in local ride guides, namely Govetts Leap, Baltzer
Lookout, Anvil Rock and Victoria Falls. Besides a sprinkling of singletrack
made tantalisingly rowdy by some water erosion, the trails were largely nice
flowing set of 4wd roads. Not too bad all considered, especially as every route
ended in a spectacular lookout with a breathtaking outlook across the water
eroded valley to towering orange cliffs. The exposure added to the vista, as
did the blue haze which permeated the gum forest, presumably the source for
this mountainous region’s name.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s-tOlkI340w/UVe97-_omVI/AAAAAAAABxI/bkY_6SNA3y4/s1600/2013-03-30_11-36-06_739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s-tOlkI340w/UVe97-_omVI/AAAAAAAABxI/bkY_6SNA3y4/s400/2013-03-30_11-36-06_739.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this huck if I had a downhill bike</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lcv7YsjWJdQ/UVe-QOBHrUI/AAAAAAAABxQ/bx3Ac0BHsAE/s1600/2013-03-29_18-51-25_432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lcv7YsjWJdQ/UVe-QOBHrUI/AAAAAAAABxQ/bx3Ac0BHsAE/s400/2013-03-29_18-51-25_432.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wind took a toll on this cliff</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My favourite parts of camping are eating lots of easy to
prepare food, then going to bed at 7PM and logging a solid 12 hours sleep, and
this trip didn’t disappoint. Despite
signage and the area’s reputation for ferocious forest fires, some fellow
campers insisted on building camp fires, perhaps exercising some idiotic pyromanical
gene which Australian’s posess.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that we’ve got a feel for the place I’m hoping we’ll be
frequent visitors. Only two hours by train, they Blue Mountains are a great way
to escape the city, a readily accessible wilderness experience just like in New
Zealand. With a bit of investigation and hushed exchanges in the dark corner of
bike shops we’ll hopefully find some trails which will justify a bit of
hike-a-bike. I’m confident that somewhere in the vast network of trails I’ll
find something which rides the fine line between death and elation that can
only come from the right mix of gravity, roots, rocks, leaves and dust. </span></div>
</div>
Oliver (Ollie) Whalleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04563981415543463732noreply@blogger.com1