-->
After
the previous week’s grovel in the heat and dust of Welby I was hoping that at
least a little condition would be gained to help negotiate the following week’s
gruelling Highland Fling, probably the premiere marathon race in the country and
a race I've never put in a good show at.
This
time the weather gods were on my side. The forecast was for a
maximum of 13 with rain likely. The outcome; spot on. For
most of the race the temperature struggled to attain double figures, the sun
never broke through, and the “essence of England” that dampened many spirits in
the start corral was to be a constant for much of the day. Seriously perfect!
As
usual a piper in full kilt regalia got the campers out of tents early and
queuing for the portaloos. Whilst kitting up the drizzle moved in. I
opted simply for an undershirt and long fingered gloves. Two bottles on the frame and two liters on
the back completed the picture for a no-stop strategy (ala
Kowalski). Reflecting on past efforts I realised that the ease of
the first sector typically lured me into a road race mindset with predictable
outcomes after the 3 hr mark. This time I held myself back and just
plodded the paddocks, enjoying the cooler temperatures and arrived at the first
non-timed section (= railway crossing) a good deal more refreshed than in the
past. Onwards!
I
arrived at "The Wall" way earlier than expected, a loose 30% ramp of
100 meters that I'd never gone close to clearing previously. I
nearly ticked it this time.... until just near the top a walking rider forced a
change of line, resulting in loss of traction, stalling and clipping
out. The only problem was that my right foot failed to disengage and
it was to this side that I comically pitched in the reverse direction… an
undignified downhill crash going backwards!
Once on my back a more graceful manipulation with legs allowed the bike
to be deposited on the down-slope side (channelling Michael Rogers in prologue crash
mode). Saddle out of line but no real damage, and it was back to the
process of chugging the delightful dust-free trails. Once again, the
(unrelated) "Great Wall", was the most mesmerising sector; tranquil meandering
through a stunning forest carpeted by bright leaves resembling something out of
a fairy tale. There were also some great
birds to be twitched on call – of note Cicadabird and Gang Gang (which I
haven’t heard in a while), and the delightful “falling leaf” of White-throated
Gerygones.
The
forest was eventually escaped and I was soon pushing into a headwind on the
exposed plateau farm roads leading to the second untimed sector. Unfortunately, the rider I caught just before
this sector was already toasted and just held the wheel. The first
trickles of the elite field came through towards the end of this sector and I
jumped on a group of three for the last kilometer.
The
last sector is where I'd invariably come to grief in past editions so I was
curious to see how I'd hold up on a cooler outing. I got a nice sympathetic draft on the fire
roads from one of the Elites who’d hung up ambitions due to a puncture (thanks
Kyle – he still jagged 9th outright BTW). I groveled through the Roller Coaster sector,
and even cleaned Broke Back Mountain without the legs locking
up. With two kilometers to go I caught Mr Moore, whom was battling
cramp courtesy of the more in vogue strategy of going out hard and suffering
late, and we rolled to the finish together. Trent and I finished only a handful of seconds apart, as has been the habit at the Kowalski and
some of the 7 hr events this year.
The
race is still 112 km but now includes another few Kms of single track – not exactly
welcome coming at the end. Coupled with a heavy track this explains
the Elite winner’s time (4:18) being almost 10 min slower than the previous
year. For someone of my ability this probably
translates to a course handicap of around 15-20 minutes over last year’s
edition. Hence I was pretty happy to record my best time in about 5 outings,
coming home in 5:22, 16th in category (of 230) and 79th outright (of 570). Anita
was all smiles at the finish, happily eschewing a day of drizzle for a slow but
dry Bundanoon breakfast.
In
no time we had me and bike washed and the tent packed. Burgers never tasted better under a tarp near
the finish whilst shooting the breeze with my old schoolmate Eric who had a terrific
race finishing 12 min ahead of me and jagging 6th in Masters. I've
had such painful outings at the Fling in the past I thought this might be my
last, but I honestly enjoyed it this year so maybe it won't be the last time I show. I've
just got to do a rain dance leading in, as cool and damp seem to be conditions
that suit this chugger best.
No comments:
Post a Comment