Tour of Bright from the Cheap Seats

My ToB was from the middle of the pack, rather than as someone who was gunning for the top, so of course, I had to make sure I looked the part. The bike was polished, the light wheels were on, and the assos, capo and lazer apparel was donned with the appropriate ceremony. In all seriousness, though, this being my second time round, I realised from experience that getting organised and knowing what you wanted to do at various stages was important to having a satisfying time. At my last attempt 5 years ago, I managed to get dropped by the bunch prior to leaving Bright after getting caught behind a crash, and spent a lonely couple of hours soloing into a headwind and then grovelling up Tawonga. The then third stage up Buffalo had me dropping a chain on the short hill prior to the start of the main climb and again losing the main bunch. Not very satisfying. At all.

So this time round, it was about riding a good race in the bunch, not wasting too much energy and getting to the bottom of the climbs in reasonable shape so I can then be dropped (which was always going to happen- c’mon, many of my competitors were 15 years younger than me and weighed about as much as one of my legs). The pace was pretty furious heading to ovens, and I remember looking down and seeing 58km/hr on my speedo at one point. Being in the middle of 120 people made it feel pretty crazy at that point. there was some serious work being done at the front by some guys who were either working for others or were just stupid with energy to burn. There really was no reason to do any work on the front if you didn’t have a reason to, there were so many others doing it. One bloke went up the road a bit on Rosewhite, and the rest of the group tempo’d it with about 7-8 riders preventing any silly moves off the front (For which I was grateful). Then it was down the Kiewa valley towards Tawonga, which was much lumpier than I remembered, but we were working pretty hard at it. My goose was fairly cooked by the time I reached Tawonga with the group, and having grabbed a full bottle from the feed zone, I pushed up the hill at somewhat less than 100% so I wasn’t too stuffed for the TT. I ended up about 8 mins down on the fastest. The descent was great, but it isn’t hard to see why it claims so many when it is raced.

The TT was in the afternoon, and I retrieved my widely travelled TT helmet for a brief period to accompany me on what was an OK TT on a pretty hard course. Every time I got some rhythm, the next short hill hit and took out all my momentum. I haven’t done a TT for about 2 years, so the 27^th I got was probably about fair enough. I just got pipped on the line by my 20 second man. I didn’t even know he was there!

The third stage up Mt Hotham loomed on Sunday morning, and it was with significantly less vim and vigour that I got out of bed and made my way to the line. I was a little later than I had planned, and whilst I heard whisperings, it wasn’t until we were at Harrietville after what was a fairly pleasant 25km of jostling within the group, that I knew for sure that we were finishing prior to the start of the final 10km of Hotham (the steep bit). I can’t say I was that disappointed, as it was not going to advantage me in anyway if we went the whole distance, but there was a certain feeling of something missing. Still, I am glad we didn’t have to contend with 80km/hr winds across those saddles at the top. On the climb proper, the guys who were going to win the stage faded into the distance pretty early in the piece, leaving a bunch of us who split, reformed, split and reformed a number of times, with a few dropping off the back, especially when the Meg hit. I was struggling a bit after this, but held on, and when we got to the false flat, it was rolling turns for a while until we lost interest and followed whoever was looking strongest at the time, trying to hide from the side/head wind. With a final oomph, we were upon the line, and it was all over. After standing about for a while, basking in the glory of making up the numbers, I was getting a bit cold, so I donned my jacket and headed on down the mountain- definitely a highlight of the day.

It was great to see Steve and Christine, JB (and his curly haired girls), Mick, and the Alpine local, JayWoo, and part-time local, Aaron. Thanks also to Lisa for continuing the TT helmet’s brush with glory. And finally, thanks to the rider in the BeCoz kit who gave me a push at a crucial moment to stop me from losing contact with our group.

Crucifixion revisited

It has been some time since I attempted to do the ride that I conceived in a previous period of being drawn to the hills. I entertained the notion a couple of months ago, but the idea died in the arse for some reason of other, most likely because I would have struggled to finish. So, today it was that I headed to the lonely corner of surrey park in box hill. It lived up to it's name, and off I set.

My ride out to the Dandenongs was full of self recrimination, doubt, and a general lack of keeness, but fortunately, after a coffee in the Basin, and setting my headphones in place for a solo hammer fest, the one in twenty was more accommodating than usual, with my legs feeling strong. Whilst my time was nothing particularly special objectively, it is the best I have done for the past 2 years. I was getting in the groove too, with beats from the Jam, The Pixies, and Pink, amongst others to distract and inspire me.

I headed south to climb the Devil's Elbow (via Churchill's road and One Tree Hill), which felt pretty good. Pushing out 300watts whilst taking it relatively easy was satisfying, with 3 or 4 efforts at about 450watts to spice things up before the end. Felt really good over the top, and enjoyed the linkage of the end of this climb with the descent down Sherbrooke road, which I fear may be the most ordinary descent in the dandenongs. It certainly has the most chopped up road. It was rapidly followed by one of my favourite parts of riding in the Dandenongs- the road between Kallista and Monbulk. Nothing particularly difficult about it, and there is a bit of traffic, but it just flows beautifully.

Coming up to the Wall, I was hardly feeling the climbs in the legs, and was entertaining thoughts of adding in extra climbs. I was only half way through and those thoughts were banished before the end of the ride. Still, it bodes well for my condition in general. I pushed it up the Wall fairly consistently, getting out of the saddle whenever I was sagging and on the steeper sections. Completed the climb in equal time to my previous best, and wasn't pushing it too hard. Felt satisfied in Olinda, and it was off down the Mount Dandenong Tourist road to the Northern end of the 'Nongs.

The descent down Inverness road is one of the guilty pleasure of cycling. It is so fast and the surface so smooth, not to mention steep, that you can forgive the hazardous single lane sections. Before you know it, the turnaround comes and the gradual increasing incline eases you into it. Soon enough, it is steep, and maintains this to the left turn into the first single lane section, which remains pretty steep too. It then flattens out for some respite, before the road turns right for the nasty last pitch up to the Tourist Rd. Maintaining speed along this flatter section is difficult, and wasn't there for me today. Soon enough I headed up past Mt Dandenong Fire Station and up to Sky High- another steep pitch. At the top, my thoughts of further climbs were banished, as I could predict the cramping to come if I continued.

The roll down to the One in Twenty was sweet (after the always dragging short stretch up to Olinda), and the descent was glorious in sunshine on dry road. I decided against the solo coffee break as time was getting on, and pushed on through into the westerly wind. The short hill up Boronia road was brutal as usual. I have taken to attacking it as hard as I can, as it sucks whichever way you do it. Trip home was uneventful, and the coffee machine was on when I got there. Happy days!

Overall, I felt as good as I ever have after a crucifixion ride. The speeds up the hills would be better if I had kept off alcohol for the last 2 months as I had planned and lost a couple more kg. Nonetheless, all things considered, I feel pretty good. Given the self defeating thoughts I have been having in the past few weeks and especially at the start of the ride, I needed a good ride, and all in all, I got it.

Melbourne Cycling Clubs

While racing at the track I got to thinking about the different cycling clubs in Melbourne and their personalities. I should say that I have been a member of 2 clubs and my views are not based on any scientific study, but purely on the idle wonderings passing through my mind on the way home from DISC. Hence, I hope this causes no offence to those of you who take your affiliations seriously.

What got me thinking, was a couple of old timers who made the race in division 2 hard for their fellow riders. They were grizzled and somewhat soft around the middle, but with a hard glint in their eye, and a keen knowledge of tactics. They had made the trip from their gulag in the western suburbs and were card-carrying members of the Flemington Cycling club. This club seems to have a higher than average number of hard men (I am not sure if women are allowed to join- I have never met any), and if one is to believe their website, takes a dim view of their members fraternising with members of other clubs, attending foreign races, etc. This general hardness and unforgiving approach puts me in mind of Flanders in Belgium, where being the poorer, harder part of the country seems to turn out hungry cyclists who look about 20 years older than they are.

My own club- Hawthorn Cycling Club- seems to attract a large number of time trialists. What this says about the club, I do not know. I do know that whilst time trial bikes are the poster children of new technology in the bike industry, time trials are neither fun to watch or do, so I can only conclude that it is club of boring masochists. They also have one of the worst club strips- black and orange- it is up there with the AG2R brown and white kit from the pros. They do run a cracker of a track event on Sundays, where the strip can be seen in full skinsuited glory.

St Kilda Cycling Club is a fine inner city club, that provides, commentary, coffee, and seems to have a more active social scene than pretty much any other club- hence you are more likely to find eligible young riders of both sexes, mixing it up on the crit course and off. Christine has almost as many club championships here as Jeanie Longo. They have a fine looking strip- largely red in colour-that is set off nicely by a number of Italian bike makes, and Campy components. Members come from bayside suburbs, and further afield if single.

Northcote Cycling Club is a bit of a mystery club, where membership requires having Neiwand as your surname, or having thighs that are larger in diameter than most people’s chest. There are also some random road cyclists who mixed up Northcote for St Kilda, and have not been allowed to leave. Their kit is old school blue and white, and probably dates back to when Old Man Neiwand was a racing. If you race track, you have probably been spoken to sternly about your mistakes, and are better for it.

Blackburn Cycling club- as befits its location in family friendly eastern suburbs, is populated by juniors, and other riders who have been members since they were under 13s. It is rumoured that you cannot join if you have reached your majority. It has a fairly nice looking uniform of white grey and red, that is often seen flapping on the legs of bony prepubescent boys.

Carnegie Caulfield Cycling Club is the largest club, and certainly the club whose members have the largest aspirations (or their parents do). They have produced many champions, and will continue to do so. The new(ish) Carnegie kit has the unfortunate colour choice of light blue on the knicks over the brickie’s crack, and this can be a particular problem given there is a higher than usual chance you will be behind them. The design of the knicks also manages to make the skinniest backside look larger, which may not be a good thing in some instances.

Another year almost down

Well, this has been a long time between drinks. LazyLantern has been very lazy, whilst the rest of life has caught up with me.

What has happened? Well, the reality of a new child in 2009 hit home with the force of a tank, we moved from the warm fuzzy blanket-like feel of our inner city home to the brave new world of suburban melbourne, we made some hard decisions about our son's education and started to come to terms with the realities of dealing with the human failings of our family. And that is just the start. Overall, despite this, it has not been a bad year, but not a good one either. Just one with lots of work- vocational, domestic and psychological.

As to cycling, which I guess this blog is largely about, well it has taken a back seat to the rest of the action.

Top cycling moments of the year have been a return to the dirt, with the move affording the extra space to have a true mountain bike (as opposed to my faithful commuter, which is a MTB in the same way that a sultana was once a grape); destroying my much loved Colnago CT2 by driving it into the garage roof, whilst on top of the car- a definite lowlight; riding the RideTheWorlds event at the Road Cycling World Championships in Geelong- truly a great experience; and buying my new road bike, a gorgeous DeRosa Merak- not the bike I would have gravitated toward if my decision had been made slowly and precisely, but I am glad of the way it panned out- kind of like fate.

Onto new beginnings. Downhill to the end of the year and bring on 2011.

Another Saturday in Paradise

Two Saturdays in a row in the Hills- this must be a new record, at least for the last couple of years.

I arrived at Surrey Park after taking the soft option of driving from home to the meeting point. I just don't see the point in riding out through the inner east to get to the rendezvous point and having to chop off some of the good bit- that is the hills themselves. So, drive I did. I was there on my lonesome until 0645 when Les rolled on by, chasing a couple of blokes up the road. I was pretty sure they weren't the TE bunch, but hey, on my second week back, I wasn't going to argue. The tires I put on yesterday felt like they had lost some air overnight, but on reflection, that was just me. Les promised a scenic route through the wilds of Ferntree Gully, and after seeing tantalising glimpses of 3 riders ahead who didn't look sharply dressed enough to be from TE, we turned right off the Burwood Highway. It was indeed scenic, with a few sharp hills to whet the appetite prior to the Tourist Road, which we reached soon enough. No 11-23 this week, but I was soon on the 27, ticking the legs over at my max. The speed doesn't seem to change, only the cadence alters. I lobbied Les to head straight on up the tourist road, and being the obliging fellow he is, that we did. There was pea-soup fog up the top, which lessened as we went down towards Sassafras. I was thinking seriously about turning and rolling down the 1 in 20, but my spirits lifted on meeting Greg and Leigh in sassafras. A second ascent for them, with Les and I in tow, and we were off to the Northern Dandenongs, where I was going to descend Inverness and return home. I could wax lyrical about the descent, but I already did that last week. At the bottom, it just seems such a shame not to ride back up again, and the busy-ness of the road down to Montrose did not entice. The others headed up the hill, and I followed a little later. The 27 cog made it bearable but far from enjoyable- the roll down to Montrose was welcome.

Out on my own, I had forgotten that it is a fair ride back down Canterbury road to Surrey Park. Initially it is downhill, but soon there are a few pinches, like Heathmont Hill, which just hurts after the hills earlier in the ride. Every traffic light knows my name and wants to say hello, and on this rolling road, extra stops and starts are really not welcome. Finally the rise up to the start point looms, and I wring a few more pedals from my protesting legs and take it home.

Looking at the power file at home, my 20 min power is about 10% down on its peak last year, and longer periods are even worse. Hopefully I can push it up a bit for old time's sake. I miss the feeling of strength, and the ability to repeat. After I have done a couple of good efforts, these days, that's it. Still, with a good couple of months prior to Bright in January, there is plenty of improvement to be had.

The morning after

Just to prove that nothing lasts, my resolve yesterday seems to be evaporating rather quickly. Whilst I am still going to ride, it will be a roll on the rollers on the track bike, as my legs feel like jelly from yesterday. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Perhaps I was a little ambitious to be planning a hard interval session after failing to finish a crit.

Raspberry

Having had a couple of admittedly glorious months of doing baby and work to the exception of most riding, here I am weighing 87.5kg, with absolutely no top end, and not much bottom end either. I have moved onto yet another seat and have been eschewing my power meter for all riding until today.

I ventured down to Port Melbourne today "just to have a look" and was unfortunately tempted to have a go. Nothing drastic happened, in fact not much happened at all. Stuck in there at the back of the field for the first few minutes, I was rapidly using up my energy with the concertina-ing of the field. Haven't I said before, stay at the front! I should listen to myself. Out the back by ten minutes gone. D-oh!

Power meter told the story- OK peak powers coming out of the corners at 950watts, compared with about 1000watts last year, the normalised power at 311, reflecting the stopping and starting. I can't do that at the moment.

Time to get back to it. Need to do some time on the ergo and get some top end.