Friday, 26 November 2010

Just a flesh wound...

We were riding along and...


WARNING: grizzly stuff below
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You should have seen the other guy!

Monday, 22 November 2010

Perfect Blueys Day

"Smack my pitch up" (120 m, with pitches of 18 18 18 20 17)
Sublime point, Leura, Sun 21st Nov.








Anita grappling with the overlap crux on the 4th pitch (of 5!).


Photos of us courtesy of Anelia Dietmann (pictured belaying, above), on the neighbouring classic at the grade, "Sweet Dreams" (17). Thanks Anelia for some great shots!
We actually started on "Whymper", which shares the same first pitch with SMPU, then discovered the line of new rings heading skyward. Couldn't resist given that the alternative was all carrots. Fantastic climb (SMPU) and probably the best multi-pitcher at the grade in the mountains.

Monday, 15 November 2010

Toasted!

The theme for the Highland Fling this year was one of "baking"…mixing the ingredients to make a good course – firetrail, singletrack, hills and descents – for what has traditionally been a 110 km (vs 100 km) mtb enduro. There was also the 100 mile option, which I had absolutely no desire to do. The last and only other time I rode the Fling was in 2007, on the Stumpy with original tubed wheels. Pretty gruelling experience – took ~6'20", which included 1 puncture and a whole lotta hurt. I've missed out in recent years because, of all the enduros on the calendar, this one tends to sell out quickest – ~2000 spots sold in 5 and ½ hours last year! This year I managed to get a spot courtesy of GKs diligence on the computer 6 months ago.

To be honest I was already feeling pretty fried and could quite easily have given it the flick, but as the entry was there it seemed a shame to waste it. It's been 5 weeks since the Scott24, and although my toes have finally stopped tingling, I'm still not sure my lower back is quite returned to normal. I hadn't done much in the way of kms in the intervening weeks, so at least I'd be fresh! The lead up in Sydney has been pretty wet – rain every second day sort of stuff. On the drive to Bundanoon we hit some pretty heavy downfalls, but managed to get the tents up in the dry, and remarkably had no rain that afternoon as we headed from the campground into town to register and carbolode at the pub. A heavy shower during the night cleared to reveal a hot yet humid race day.

The course is typically broken into three segments; ~30 km of paddocks, ~50 km of windy singletrack with lots of climbing, and ~30 km of fire road. This year the first 30 was much quicker courtesy of avoiding the creek-lined singletrack segments which got shuffled to the last 30. The middle 50 was mostly unchanged, although the tracks were more groomed, and the last 30, which could also now be described as more paddock dominated, started fast but had some horrible stings in the tail.

At 7:30 we were off, and it was nice to see that the organisers had dealt with the bottlenecks which plagued the first sector in previous years by letting the long segments of undulating paddocks thin the ranks. Within about 15 km I was steaming and decided to remove my gloves, something I've not resorted to before on the mtb. Although I had 3 L of fluid on my back, and another 0.75 on the frame, at the rate I was sweating I was hoping to have air-through-fingers provide some additional cooling. Riding glove less is a gamble in the sense that crashing is even less desirable.

With the first sector dispensed with I was feeling pretty good as I went through the untimed transition [5 min is allowed to travel from one set of timing mats, across the railway line to the second set of mats ~ 1 km away]. I was dreading the middle 50 km sector, as last time my technical skills weren't sufficient to make the large tracts of single track flow. This time I quite enjoyed it, but seemed to have forgotten how much climbing was involved. By the time I hit the 55 km feed zone at ~ 2'36", the first of the Elite riders were just starting to filter past (they started 30 min behind the main field), and I was starting to feel pretty fatigued, and was suffering the first uncomfortable signs of cramp. This was going to be a long day! Although I wasn't originally planning to stop at the 55 km feed, I needed to gulp down multiple cups of fluid, and have a pee (which produced almost nothing). I was already pretty dehydrated.

From here on the racing had well and truly ceased and it was once again a case of survival. Lots of steep climbs. Lots of failed cramp management = lots of cramping and walking of steep pinches. Maybe BT and Kev are right – this really is the domain of the masochist. Even suffered the indignity of having to abandon a good wheel I'd been working well with on the flat run back to the untimed transition. The head was willing, but the legs simply said "continue pedalling at your peril". Finished the sector, but not in great shape. At transition I oiled my chain, gulped down more fluid and a banana, and headed out onto the last sector. My clock read ~ 4 hrs elapsed and I had approx 27 km to travel. In 07 this last sector was a quickie, so I was hopeful that I might get home in 5'30", which I would have been pretty happy with given I'm not at peak fitness. It started out well – lots of flat-chat dusty roads and lovely paddock gliding, but whenever things turned uphill I was instantly in trouble. Oh how slowly the kms ticked by, especially once engaged in the "roller coaster" sector, which I've no doubt is more groovy in the reverse direction. My ETA for finishing had to be continuously revised as yet another pinch had me doubled over in cramp. Somehow the end came with my clock reading 5'57", the last 4 hrs of which were pretty hot and hard yakka. This placed me 96th in a field of ~680 starters. The winner, Jason English, came home in ~4'25", very similar to the winners time in 07, which makes me think the course, albeit better groomed and not as rough, a little harder in its current incarnation. The main difference is that the merits of the first and last sectors have basically been swapped – and multiple stings in the tail are far more devastating at the death on wasted bodies.

Despite the ordeal, enjoyed a good hose down, and relaxed in the sun with lunch and brews as riders kept coming across the line for the next ~3 hours. Didn't have to wait long for GK, who put in a great ride to come home as the clock tickled 6'30" – THREE hours better than 2 years ago – well done GK! Caught up with friendly faces I only seem to bump into at these events. Remarkably, two unicyclists completed the course as well – one of which had two gears. The first one home, on the geared wheel, thought the other "crazy". In retaliation, the ungeared unicyclist declared the other a cheat. Blend in a smattering of cyclocrossers, single speeders, cyclocross singlespeeders, and tandems and other clowns from the mtb circus – well, you get the picture, it's that sort of event. Requisite masochism aside, I still love doing these things.

Don't quite know how to manage my cramping in the heat. Quite possibly the 4 beers downed the previous evening had something to do with it, but in the last 3 or 4 enduros (most of which haven't involved a significant beer quotient), whilst burning at similar efforts the cramps start to bite around ½ way in. Will have to do some research in this regard before the next one, which will most likely be Dirtworks in April of next year. Till then……rest…

Friday, 5 November 2010

Walking the plank, possum style


A few weekends ago i returned from a ride to find a commotion in the backyard. A Ringtail Possum had somehow not found his/her way home the previous eve, but had instead been found by a gang of Sulfur Crested Cockatoos who, like a bunch of teenagers, made their displeasure known to the poor little fellow. Boy those things can make a racket. The Maggies joined in as well. Attempts to escape to a bushier neighbouring tree were met with screeching and the occasional nip to the tail. Poss did eventually escape...with his tail in tact, and an experience that hopefully won't go forgotten.

One of Poss's bids for freedom

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

Plain Wanderers

"What the hell is a twitchathon?" Well, a twitchathon (or "twitch") is a race to see as many different bird species as possible in a given 24 hour period (obviously I'm not totally cured of these 24 hr things). The race is undertaken by teams of bird enthusiasts (yes, I am a nerd), usually 2-4 per team, and in NSW happens in late October, when things are more interesting due to the return of many birds who winter in the far north or abroad. Invariably, the strategy is to visit as many different habitats as possible, jumping in and out of cars in a race across the state, with most teams starting somewhere in western NSW to pick up the dry country birds (4pm start time on the Saturday), driving like a madman (or women) through the night to catch dawn with rainforest species in the more northern forests, and finishing at one of several designated spots on the coast at 4 pm Sunday (we chose Newcastle as one can avoid Sydney traffic and still pick up the seabirds).

Last year I did my first twitch in a team of 4, the "Plain Wanderers" (with reference to a rare oddball quail found only in a couple of paddocks in southern NSW and Vic, the "Plains Wanderer"), comprised of myself, Rob and Andy from work, and Rob's English bird fanatic friend Ed. Last year we covered about 700 km and picked up 173 species, placing us ~15th in the state - a long way from the winners (Menacing Monarchs) amazing score of 247 (and > 1000 km covered). This year, being a little older and (hopefully) wiser, we hoped to crack the double ton. But it would be no walk in the park. The breaking of the drought in NSW this winter, and the generally wet state of the red (green!) center, means that many inland species which would normally be picked up where we planned to start, south of Gunnedah, were nowhere to be seen, yet were being reported in huge numbers in the country's vast interior (ie way way further west than one could reasonably travel in 24 hours).

We all skipped a day of work and headed inland on Thursday eve in the langles mobile (pretty squishy!) to scope out the various areas we had in mind. Stayed in Scone Thursday eve, spent all day Friday on reconnaissance, and boozed and bedded at the only pub in Spring Ridge on the Friday night. On the Friday we stumbled upon the vast plains of Lake Goran, which actually contained water (first time in years) – and consequently loads of waterbirds. So this is where we counted down the minutes to the start on Saturday arvo, with spotting scopes and binoculars strained on various parts of the lake, trying to keep track of distant rarer species which were easily lost and hard to find again amongst the shimmering heat haze and hundreds/thousands of more pedestrian species/specks. With the race under way and after a good swag of ticks we were soon in the car and driving at warp speed along dirt roads south to Spring Ridge, where we bagged a good range of dry forest species, such as Red-Capped Robin, Hobby, and an Owlet Nightjar who's roost we'd discovered the previous day (no bashing of the tree trunk required!). Back-tracking we got Babblers and some of the inland parrots at Breezer State Forest, before getting the divine White-Winged Fairy Wren at Breezer Dam (we knew exactly where to look), before speeding towards Quipolly Dams to tick the two species we knew we would be unlikely to get anywhere else – Blue-Billed duck and Nankeen Night Heron. We got these just on ~7:20, with the light now so bad that everything else had virtually shut up shop for the day.

On our way out of Quipolly we spot-lighted a Frogmouth, and picked up a Boobook Owl at the Quirindi sewage ponds! (ahh, the fabulous places we choose to visit!). Driving through the night proved a little dangerous as one of the headlights had blown during the day, so upon stopping at Muswellbrooke Macca's for dinner (Jebus I'd forgotten how truly awful that shit is), we swapped out the globe and headed further south then north along the diabolically twisty and rutted route to the Allyn river in the heart of Barrington Tops. Upon opening the car door within seconds the car was full of about 1000 midges – I kid you not! We evacuated pronto, opening the windows and flooring it over the range to camp a few valleys away, in a less insect infected yet equally sodden and leech-ridden site, getting to sleep approx 2:30 am with the count at 95 – a couple more than the same stage last year.

Morning arrived all too soon. Apparently I did some impressive snoring during the night, and managed to miss about 10 ticks the other guys heard through the tent in another phenomenal rainforest dawn chorus (only 3 out of the 4 have to identify the bird to make it count). We eventually packed the tents (ie squashed them into the boot), backtracked over the range, and on our exit managed to bag the unmistakable call of the Noisy Pitta from the car, a magnificent little rainforest bird I haven't seen or heard in about 20 years – highlight of the trip for me. We travelled by more back-roads, stopping intermittently at oddball paddocks, lakes and bits of forest, until we met the coast at Stockton Sandspit, and eventually the Newcastle Baths, before heading back to several more swamp areas before arriving at the finish (Newcastle Wetlands Center) with about 40 min remaining, where we bagged the obligatory Magpie Goose and finished with a count of 193 for our 609 km travelled (about 1500 km for the weekend).

Although short of the desired 200, we were pretty content with our effort, given the difficulties wet conditions had presented. We placed 8th in the state with only 4 teams besting 200, and with the Monarchs again winning with 237, but again covering over 1000 km to do so. Most impressive was one team who ticked about 150 birds entirely by bicycle, covering (only!) 105 km in the process. Goes to show how much one misses by being in the car. Now there's a challenge! I was as trashed as last year, but not as trashed as the car which really copped a beating on the dirt tracks, and bottomed out one-too many times resulting in a ruptured muffler; so you can imagine how our ears rang on the drive home. Hopefully that's the only thing wrong with it. All in all, it was a great race and I'm certainly not cured, and want to do it all again….next year!
The (normally) dry side of the Breezer reservoir
Ordinarily diving off the end of this jetty would result in a broken kneck.
Scopes the order of the day at the Lake Goran floodplain - in flood!
One of many obstacles the car had to deal with
....and rest.....