"Give pedal power more room
The results are in for efforts in support of the Gong bike ride ("MS chain gang chills after a day of thrills, hills and spills", November 3): CityRail - highly commended; NSW Police - highly commended; Roads and Traffic Authority - very disappointing. The staff were great but they were let down by the idiots who decided more than 11,000 cyclists could be safely confined to one lane of the Princes Highway, the breakdown lane on the Sutherland bypass and one side of a two-metre-wide cycleway in Wollongong.
A two-hour road closure would have allowed plenty of room for cyclists to sort themselves out safely and would have saved the ambulances a lot of work. The RTA seems able to close roads for the marathon and half marathon - why not for the biggest cycling event on the NSW calendar?"
[I suppose that is what I was trying to say - DBL]
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Monday, 3 November 2008
To Gong and back
It was 2 years ago that I last did the Gong ride – and having just done it again I can understand why I only do it infrequently. Duffman was once again the instigator, and it is a good challenge for him as he only throws his leg over the top tube a couple of times a year now. And it’s for a good cause. I also consider it, to some extent, to be a protest ride – a litmus for the level of bicycle interest in the community, a show of strength that the pollies and town planners might occasionally take note of, especially if any get coaxed into actually taking part. And it must be considered a huge success this year with a record 14000 making the journey (according to today’s SMH). The weather was kind this year too, with a lovely taily blowing us along the last 30 km into the Gong. That’s the good.
The bad is that I spent much of it in cycling hell – just too many people, too many beginners on narrow restricted lanes, too much marshaled stopping and starting, and run by an organization who are not really up to hosting the size of event it has become, or don’t have the swagger with the police to properly shut some of the roads, or steal more than just a narrow lane for much of the course. Other major cities seem to be able to do such rides with 2 or 3 times the number. About 6 hours after starting off we completed the 85 km and rolled into the finishing park.
We eventually ended up at the North Wollongong hotel where a couple of very welcome ales were downed before steeling ourselves for the train-trip home. Whilst to their credit the SRA got the frequency of trains about right (we didn’t have to wait too long), they still demonstrated a breathtaking inability to exercise common sense. For some inexplicable reason our train pulled into St Peters but overshot the platform by 2 carriages. The train remained there with doors closed, tantalizing the occupants, many with crossed legs and swollen bladders, for about 10 minutes. The guard explained over the PA that permission was required for the train to reverse the ~100 metres in order to be properly positioned. This was subsequently denied, so the decision was finally made to open the doors of the remaining 6 carriages, and the occupants of the first 2 carriages who wished to alight were instructed to make their way through the carriages to the 3rd carriage where they could get off. A diabolical request, given how packed to the rafters each carriage was with bikes and bodies. Hence the state of beaurocratic madness the railways seem to have been reduced to. Those of you who opted for an earlier start and a car at the destination have obviously got this thing sussed! Still, I can laugh about it all now, and given how dodgy my memory has become I’m sure I’ll end up repeating the whole performance 2 years from now – or maybe even next year!
Another hold up, this time on the approach to Waterfall
Finally more peaceful riding as we cruise through the park
Anthony relaxing at Bald Hill. He used to Hang-glide off this spot in a former life
The edge of the world
On the fantastic new bridge
Re-hydration
More bike Chaos.....
The bad is that I spent much of it in cycling hell – just too many people, too many beginners on narrow restricted lanes, too much marshaled stopping and starting, and run by an organization who are not really up to hosting the size of event it has become, or don’t have the swagger with the police to properly shut some of the roads, or steal more than just a narrow lane for much of the course. Other major cities seem to be able to do such rides with 2 or 3 times the number. About 6 hours after starting off we completed the 85 km and rolled into the finishing park.
We eventually ended up at the North Wollongong hotel where a couple of very welcome ales were downed before steeling ourselves for the train-trip home. Whilst to their credit the SRA got the frequency of trains about right (we didn’t have to wait too long), they still demonstrated a breathtaking inability to exercise common sense. For some inexplicable reason our train pulled into St Peters but overshot the platform by 2 carriages. The train remained there with doors closed, tantalizing the occupants, many with crossed legs and swollen bladders, for about 10 minutes. The guard explained over the PA that permission was required for the train to reverse the ~100 metres in order to be properly positioned. This was subsequently denied, so the decision was finally made to open the doors of the remaining 6 carriages, and the occupants of the first 2 carriages who wished to alight were instructed to make their way through the carriages to the 3rd carriage where they could get off. A diabolical request, given how packed to the rafters each carriage was with bikes and bodies. Hence the state of beaurocratic madness the railways seem to have been reduced to. Those of you who opted for an earlier start and a car at the destination have obviously got this thing sussed! Still, I can laugh about it all now, and given how dodgy my memory has become I’m sure I’ll end up repeating the whole performance 2 years from now – or maybe even next year!
Another hold up, this time on the approach to Waterfall
Finally more peaceful riding as we cruise through the park
Anthony relaxing at Bald Hill. He used to Hang-glide off this spot in a former life
The edge of the world
On the fantastic new bridge
Re-hydration
More bike Chaos.....
Monday, 27 October 2008
The Brown Jersey
With Ham soon departing for the US a “last Hamster Sydney ride for some time” was held on the 3 valleys course, ending as always with a burnt coffee at Bobo’s on Bobbo. It was the biggest showing we’ve had for some time, with 6 riders in all – Ham, BT Greggles, Mikey, Gerard and Moi. We should get Ham to leave (temporarily) more often. It was a nice surprise to have breakky capped with a drizzle of French bubbly courtesy of Lisa and Michelle who joined us later at the Café.
We’ll miss you Ham:(
Ham, resplendant in Brown, next to a resurgent Gerard
Fellowship of the Veuve Clicquot
We’ll miss you Ham:(
Ham, resplendant in Brown, next to a resurgent Gerard
Fellowship of the Veuve Clicquot
Monday, 20 October 2008
Oaks Speedway
I finally succumbed to much pestering from Anita to take her on the Oaks mtb trail from Woodord to Glenbrook. I had resisted previously as the Oaks used to be quite a technical track with a knack for either dislodging people on steep bouldery descents –known to break more than just fingers – or at the very least wear holes in posteriors. But the powers that be have, in recent times, taken it upon themselves to bludgeon all the technical character out of the Oaks trail. Apparently they want to make it capable of accommodating fire trucks, or some such nonsense. So, over the last few traverses it has become progressively bulldozed, to the point that it is now virtually unrecognizable. Makes a mockery of the NPWS’s insistence that riders stick to the track and respect the bush. Only one last nasty section remained – well even that is now kaput. Disappointing from the perspective of challenge and aesthetics, but now a veritable speedway and excellent for beginners. Our loop up the highway and back down the trail was not, however, without incident. About ½-way along the dirt Anita alerted me to the fact that her machine was not shifting so well. Closer inspection revealed that the chain on her bike was effectively broken, but somehow one outside link at the damaged section was holding it together. Years of always carrying a chainbreaker with me on trails was just about to pay off. With the damaged link removed we were soon on our way again – it would have been a bloody long walk! One hour 10 to the trail head, and 3 hr 20 min car to car.
Sunday was spent at the bluies, climbing at Barden’s lookout. Despite the heatwave forecast it turned out to be a perfect spring day. We ticked the usual range of 19s and 20s on the main wall before popping round the corner for some of the steeper routes in the shade. Even managed to get myself up a 22, although with the misconception that it was actually 21 (well led Owen!). It would be interesting to know if I would have snagged it knowing it was 22. So much of climbing is mind games, you see.
The damaged link
Owen muscles through the low crux on a 20
Anita at the crux section of another 20
Dave Hemmings catching the rays as the sun swings over
Sunday was spent at the bluies, climbing at Barden’s lookout. Despite the heatwave forecast it turned out to be a perfect spring day. We ticked the usual range of 19s and 20s on the main wall before popping round the corner for some of the steeper routes in the shade. Even managed to get myself up a 22, although with the misconception that it was actually 21 (well led Owen!). It would be interesting to know if I would have snagged it knowing it was 22. So much of climbing is mind games, you see.
The damaged link
Owen muscles through the low crux on a 20
Anita at the crux section of another 20
Dave Hemmings catching the rays as the sun swings over
Monday, 13 October 2008
Another 24 hrs
With Japan out of the way, next on the outdoors agenda was preparation for the annual 24 hr enduro event at Mt Stromlo in Canberra. Having enjoyed the last one so thoroughly, I was keen to do it again in 2008. But rather than enter as a team of 4 I decided to be a little bolder and enter as a team of three, ensuring about 8 hrs ride time a piece. This, of course, required my finding another two individuals I could persuade to partake in the stupidity exercise. And the easiest way to do that, of course, was to entice people who had never done the thing before – enter Lawrence and Ben. And so it was that the Wheeled Wombat trio was born. The bulk of our preparation was done individually – which for me consisted predominantly of getting in as many commuting miles in as possible – although I managed a couple of longer mtb rides with Ben, and I got out for one road ride with Lawrence (who summarily kicked my a*se all the way back from our 6-valley adventure to Mt White).
Our campsite this year was almost exactly in the same location as the RESMED camp was last year, although this time we were on the edge of the plateau with uninterrupted views down to the tent city and transition area, and the return leg of the blue lap. Once again, the course consisted of 2 halves, red and blue. The red lap, at 13.2 km, was basically the same as last year’s version although 1 km longer, and consisted of a long climb up to the summit of Mt Stromlo, followed by a fantastic descent which at first traverses across the mountain before the bone-rattling plummet back to the transition area. The blue lap was also a little longer than last year (15 vs 13 km), and had the same awkward technical rock-garden sections I struggled with last year, although the last 1/3rd was a considerable improvement – slightly bigger twists than last year and my favorite part of the course.
The “Le Mans” style race start was a bit of a balls-up in the sense that once the first riders of the various teams were sectioned off, a certain number of bike handlers (and bikes), were repositioned from one end of the line-up to the other. So, when things kicked off I followed the mayhem to where I was expecting Anita and my bike to be, only to discover that neither were anywhere to be seen. By the time I worked out where they were, I was literally stone motherless last (whatever that really means?) Hence ensued the dust-munching quest of working my way through the tail of the field, which on some of the steeper hairpins required me to get off and walk, the line was so slow and congested. It wasn’t until I got going on the blue lap that traffic really thinned out nicely, which is the way it basically stays for the rest of the event.
We budgeted that each lap, be it red or blue, would on-aggregate take us about an hour to complete. So, the plan was to each start by doing a red followed by a blue (a “double”), before handing the baton over to the next rider. This would ensure we each got to see the course during the light. During the night we would each do two doubles in a row, before doing a double each the next morning if time permitted. The day laps went smoothly enough, but backing up one double with another during the night proved to be a little more difficult than anticipated – mental note for next time (Oh yes, next time!). Hard as the night was (all our lap times suffered) we all got through the event in good spirits, with no major stacks (Ben survived one endo and Lawrence collected a couple of trees!), and no mechanicals. In complete contrast to last years team we were all riding tubeless this year, and pressures of 40 psi, as compared to the ~45-50 I was running last year. I’m guessing this is part of the reason for my A-lap splits being a little quicker than last year, although I like to think that my mtb skills are gradually improving too.
We ended up completing 23 laps in our 24 hours, fractionally better than last years team-of-four effort (22), on a slightly harder set of circuits if the fastest lap times and distance are compared between editions. Overall a very pleasing result and I’m already thinking about next year, the possibility of a hard-tail, and the return to a 4-man team with a new improved strategy (1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 4). Any takers?
Our view over the tent city
Me having completed a very dusty first double
Lawrence is ready...
and in action near our campground
Ben enjoying the morning sun on the second day
Cousin Ingrid, and her husband Craig, who competed for a 4-man team
Totally unrelated - Ellie (with Joss and Marcie), kissing her 20's goodbye.
With Ian, also in retro clobber. It was a great night!
Our campsite this year was almost exactly in the same location as the RESMED camp was last year, although this time we were on the edge of the plateau with uninterrupted views down to the tent city and transition area, and the return leg of the blue lap. Once again, the course consisted of 2 halves, red and blue. The red lap, at 13.2 km, was basically the same as last year’s version although 1 km longer, and consisted of a long climb up to the summit of Mt Stromlo, followed by a fantastic descent which at first traverses across the mountain before the bone-rattling plummet back to the transition area. The blue lap was also a little longer than last year (15 vs 13 km), and had the same awkward technical rock-garden sections I struggled with last year, although the last 1/3rd was a considerable improvement – slightly bigger twists than last year and my favorite part of the course.
The “Le Mans” style race start was a bit of a balls-up in the sense that once the first riders of the various teams were sectioned off, a certain number of bike handlers (and bikes), were repositioned from one end of the line-up to the other. So, when things kicked off I followed the mayhem to where I was expecting Anita and my bike to be, only to discover that neither were anywhere to be seen. By the time I worked out where they were, I was literally stone motherless last (whatever that really means?) Hence ensued the dust-munching quest of working my way through the tail of the field, which on some of the steeper hairpins required me to get off and walk, the line was so slow and congested. It wasn’t until I got going on the blue lap that traffic really thinned out nicely, which is the way it basically stays for the rest of the event.
We budgeted that each lap, be it red or blue, would on-aggregate take us about an hour to complete. So, the plan was to each start by doing a red followed by a blue (a “double”), before handing the baton over to the next rider. This would ensure we each got to see the course during the light. During the night we would each do two doubles in a row, before doing a double each the next morning if time permitted. The day laps went smoothly enough, but backing up one double with another during the night proved to be a little more difficult than anticipated – mental note for next time (Oh yes, next time!). Hard as the night was (all our lap times suffered) we all got through the event in good spirits, with no major stacks (Ben survived one endo and Lawrence collected a couple of trees!), and no mechanicals. In complete contrast to last years team we were all riding tubeless this year, and pressures of 40 psi, as compared to the ~45-50 I was running last year. I’m guessing this is part of the reason for my A-lap splits being a little quicker than last year, although I like to think that my mtb skills are gradually improving too.
We ended up completing 23 laps in our 24 hours, fractionally better than last years team-of-four effort (22), on a slightly harder set of circuits if the fastest lap times and distance are compared between editions. Overall a very pleasing result and I’m already thinking about next year, the possibility of a hard-tail, and the return to a 4-man team with a new improved strategy (1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 4). Any takers?
Our view over the tent city
Me having completed a very dusty first double
Lawrence is ready...
and in action near our campground
Ben enjoying the morning sun on the second day
Cousin Ingrid, and her husband Craig, who competed for a 4-man team
Totally unrelated - Ellie (with Joss and Marcie), kissing her 20's goodbye.
With Ian, also in retro clobber. It was a great night!
Wednesday, 3 September 2008
Postcard from Japan
I’ve just returned from my first visit to Japan where I attended the conference of the International Union of Crystallographers (IUCR) – a body which meets on such a scale every 3 years. It was a fairly heavy affair with ~ 3000 delegates and 7 sessions running concurrently, which meant the usual shenanigans of traipsing from one lecture theatre to the next, to keep track of desired subject matter. This was all fairly exhausting, especially when considering that the thing ran for a week. When we weren’t in lectures we were on our feet, either presenting or purusing posters and interrogating their owners. It was nice to put a few names on faces, even those of the competition. In two instances I happened upon posters which looked eerily familiar to stuff I have worked on. One was from a Japanese group that also worked on amine oxidases (on which I have published a handful of papers). The other was from the Japanese/Thai group who gazzumped me with their structure on PfODCase, which I still managed to publish non-the-less. I’ve moved on from both projects, but it was sobering to realize that there are probably groups doing exactly what I’m doing at present. Although the science was generally pretty absorbing, socially the conference didn’t have too much going for it, which meant that we had to fend for ourselves in the evenings – which we did, of course, with gusto.
The venue hosting the event was a massive building called the Osaka cube, which stands on 4 stilts with enough vacuum under it to house the entire biochemistry building in which I work. Our hotel was a casual ~15 min stroll away, but even this distance I found to be an inconvenience in the tremendous heat and humidity that greeted us every morning and persisted late into the night. I don’t think there was a day of the trip where it didn’t rain. I’m just not built for a hot muggy climate. The locals have a better grip on how to get around – predominantly by bicycles, which are of the type not meant for speed, but for cruising the generally pancake-flat streets. I had no idea that such a bicycle culture existed in Japan. Dinners generally consisted of stumbling upon a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, ascending of descending a narrow staircase into a series of petit rooms, staring bewilderingly at a menu we couldn’t read, and pointing at a rang of selections down the page, tempered by the prices, which were the only components of the menus we could understand with any certainty [Japanese script comes in 3 flavours; Kanji (picture words – about 2000 of these), and Hiragana and Katagana (also funky character sets but both phonetic – and equally difficult to learn)]. We usually opted for the little restaurants without picture menus in order to get something authentically Japanese and not westernized. The hosts were very gracious, sometimes knowing no English at all, but we were always welcomed with smiles, never went hungry, and the food was nearly always delicious (oyshii) and relatively inexpensive. One restaurant turned out to specialize in chicken – in fact, only chicken – as we discovered (specialty restaurants are very common in Japan). We asked them via the phrase book to choose for us and out came dishes ranging from raw chicken skin all the way to the other bits of the bird, cooked in various ways…the whole bird, basically. Just as it rained every day, we satiated our thirsts with beer every day – lots of it, usually lager style and generally very good quality (Sapporo, Asahi, Kirin etc). On several occasions we also indulged in a bit of dry Sake – which brought at least one of us undone on one evening.
Although Japan can be a daunting place for a westerner to visit, you only have to unfold a map in the street and within about 30 sec someone will approach you and in broken English try to get you sorted. This happened upon my arrival at the Airport, where the fellow who helped me actually followed me down a few sets of elevators and passages to make sure I got on the right train. The rail staff were also phenomenal, with most knowing sufficient English to head you in the right direction – something that would be unimaginable from your average SRA staff.
With the conference dealt with, the Willing (John, Mugda and I) fared well the Unwilling (Aaron and DJ), and left Osaka on the Shinkansen (Bullet train), direction Mt Fuji. It pretty much rained all the way and I was fairly confident that there would be no way of being able to climb it, which was disappointing as when I originally signed up for the trip climbing Fuji was one of my main objectives. I must admit I also had my reservations about the climb. For one, Mt Fuji (3776m) is a big mountain, basically the same size as Mt Cook, although without the technical approach and savage ice slopes and turret. Although not technical, and with no ice/snow to contend with at this time of year, it is still big, and we could expect sub zero temperatures, thin air, possible mild altitude sickness, and if there was a combination of rain/snow and high winds, real danger exposure-wise. Additionally, the style in which most people climb Fuji is through the night such that the ascentionist can experience the sun rising over the land of the rising sun (the way it should be climbed!). Of the three of us, I was the only one with mountaineering experience, and only John and I had quality gear (breathable shells, head torches, sleeping bags).
There are multiple trails up the mountain, and numerous lodges one can stay in during an ascent. As all of these were booked, we ended up walking in from what turned out to be one of the longer routes, starting from where the bus dropped us at 1450 m. The rain and clouds had cleared sufficiently to give us the confidence of starting at 5 pm. I expected it to be a predominantly rocky path. This turned out to be true only for the last ¼, with the bulk of the mountain consisting of a massive pile of pea/grape sized pumice – basically the biggest pile of gravel I’ve ever seem in my life. Of the 2300m vertical we had to gain, most of this was done with feet sliding backwards with every step – grueling stuff. We stopped occasionally to sit out showers and marvel at the city lights piercing breaks in the clouds below. Higher up we took frequent breaks for breathers. We got to 3000 m at 11 pm, and bunked down for a few hours of fitfull dozing before resuming the slog. The temperature was probably about 5 degrees at this point – much warmer than I was expecting, and although it periodically drizzled, it was mostly jungle mist and there was no appreciable wind to speak of – we were lucky! There were only a few other parties on the same route, which we periodically leapfrogged on the way up. During the last hour however, climbers seemed to teem out of the higher hugs (below us) and begin the final push for the top. We topped out on the rim at 4:15 am, and to our great surprise found that there were already 100s of people up there, most teeming up via different routes. The trails of torches weaving up the slopes were very "Lord of the Rings". Most of the parties were young Japanese teenagers – I gather it’s one of the done things for the young Jap. When dawn eventually broke the sun struggled to penetrate heavy cloud on the horizon, but it was still a grand sight which we watched for a couple of hours. Enthusiastic cheering would occur whenever the sun did manage to momentarily break through and rays shot over the cloud bed which still hugged the valleys below (cue thoughts of the old imperial flag).
Once the sun got higher and the commotion had died down somewhat, we completed our circumnavigation of the crater (there were still hundreds making their way up) then started the descent back down the same path. John and I both had cracking headaches (mine due to dehydration, John's aided by victory sake), and we were eager to get the bulk of the descent done before we got roaster by the sun heating all that gravel - no doubt another plus for doing it at night. Fortunately, the slopes which had proved so arduous to ascend were a synch to get down, almost glissade style. What had taken us 11 hrs to get up we bombed down, back into the heat and humidity, in 3 sharp. That afternoon John and I fare-welled Mugda, who exited direction Kyoto, and jumped on another bullet train for Tokyo.
What a city! Makes NYC look like nyc. And the public transport system just has to be seen to be believed. Had a few days kicking around and consuming more beer along with John, Aaron and DJ (my liver needs a holiday from the holiday) before I jumped on another Shinkansen, and bombed the 400 km (as the crow flies) from Tokyo to Osaka in 3 hrs flat (too easy), then onto the big bird for home.
The Osaka Cube conference centre
Virus model, oragami-style
Ground control to major Tom. The Japanese really have a few issues when it comes to the bathroom.
Mt Fuji looms above the local town - not quite as speccy without the snow-dome. Pre 1950 it was white capped year round - global warming in action.
The venue hosting the event was a massive building called the Osaka cube, which stands on 4 stilts with enough vacuum under it to house the entire biochemistry building in which I work. Our hotel was a casual ~15 min stroll away, but even this distance I found to be an inconvenience in the tremendous heat and humidity that greeted us every morning and persisted late into the night. I don’t think there was a day of the trip where it didn’t rain. I’m just not built for a hot muggy climate. The locals have a better grip on how to get around – predominantly by bicycles, which are of the type not meant for speed, but for cruising the generally pancake-flat streets. I had no idea that such a bicycle culture existed in Japan. Dinners generally consisted of stumbling upon a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, ascending of descending a narrow staircase into a series of petit rooms, staring bewilderingly at a menu we couldn’t read, and pointing at a rang of selections down the page, tempered by the prices, which were the only components of the menus we could understand with any certainty [Japanese script comes in 3 flavours; Kanji (picture words – about 2000 of these), and Hiragana and Katagana (also funky character sets but both phonetic – and equally difficult to learn)]. We usually opted for the little restaurants without picture menus in order to get something authentically Japanese and not westernized. The hosts were very gracious, sometimes knowing no English at all, but we were always welcomed with smiles, never went hungry, and the food was nearly always delicious (oyshii) and relatively inexpensive. One restaurant turned out to specialize in chicken – in fact, only chicken – as we discovered (specialty restaurants are very common in Japan). We asked them via the phrase book to choose for us and out came dishes ranging from raw chicken skin all the way to the other bits of the bird, cooked in various ways…the whole bird, basically. Just as it rained every day, we satiated our thirsts with beer every day – lots of it, usually lager style and generally very good quality (Sapporo, Asahi, Kirin etc). On several occasions we also indulged in a bit of dry Sake – which brought at least one of us undone on one evening.
Although Japan can be a daunting place for a westerner to visit, you only have to unfold a map in the street and within about 30 sec someone will approach you and in broken English try to get you sorted. This happened upon my arrival at the Airport, where the fellow who helped me actually followed me down a few sets of elevators and passages to make sure I got on the right train. The rail staff were also phenomenal, with most knowing sufficient English to head you in the right direction – something that would be unimaginable from your average SRA staff.
With the conference dealt with, the Willing (John, Mugda and I) fared well the Unwilling (Aaron and DJ), and left Osaka on the Shinkansen (Bullet train), direction Mt Fuji. It pretty much rained all the way and I was fairly confident that there would be no way of being able to climb it, which was disappointing as when I originally signed up for the trip climbing Fuji was one of my main objectives. I must admit I also had my reservations about the climb. For one, Mt Fuji (3776m) is a big mountain, basically the same size as Mt Cook, although without the technical approach and savage ice slopes and turret. Although not technical, and with no ice/snow to contend with at this time of year, it is still big, and we could expect sub zero temperatures, thin air, possible mild altitude sickness, and if there was a combination of rain/snow and high winds, real danger exposure-wise. Additionally, the style in which most people climb Fuji is through the night such that the ascentionist can experience the sun rising over the land of the rising sun (the way it should be climbed!). Of the three of us, I was the only one with mountaineering experience, and only John and I had quality gear (breathable shells, head torches, sleeping bags).
There are multiple trails up the mountain, and numerous lodges one can stay in during an ascent. As all of these were booked, we ended up walking in from what turned out to be one of the longer routes, starting from where the bus dropped us at 1450 m. The rain and clouds had cleared sufficiently to give us the confidence of starting at 5 pm. I expected it to be a predominantly rocky path. This turned out to be true only for the last ¼, with the bulk of the mountain consisting of a massive pile of pea/grape sized pumice – basically the biggest pile of gravel I’ve ever seem in my life. Of the 2300m vertical we had to gain, most of this was done with feet sliding backwards with every step – grueling stuff. We stopped occasionally to sit out showers and marvel at the city lights piercing breaks in the clouds below. Higher up we took frequent breaks for breathers. We got to 3000 m at 11 pm, and bunked down for a few hours of fitfull dozing before resuming the slog. The temperature was probably about 5 degrees at this point – much warmer than I was expecting, and although it periodically drizzled, it was mostly jungle mist and there was no appreciable wind to speak of – we were lucky! There were only a few other parties on the same route, which we periodically leapfrogged on the way up. During the last hour however, climbers seemed to teem out of the higher hugs (below us) and begin the final push for the top. We topped out on the rim at 4:15 am, and to our great surprise found that there were already 100s of people up there, most teeming up via different routes. The trails of torches weaving up the slopes were very "Lord of the Rings". Most of the parties were young Japanese teenagers – I gather it’s one of the done things for the young Jap. When dawn eventually broke the sun struggled to penetrate heavy cloud on the horizon, but it was still a grand sight which we watched for a couple of hours. Enthusiastic cheering would occur whenever the sun did manage to momentarily break through and rays shot over the cloud bed which still hugged the valleys below (cue thoughts of the old imperial flag).
Once the sun got higher and the commotion had died down somewhat, we completed our circumnavigation of the crater (there were still hundreds making their way up) then started the descent back down the same path. John and I both had cracking headaches (mine due to dehydration, John's aided by victory sake), and we were eager to get the bulk of the descent done before we got roaster by the sun heating all that gravel - no doubt another plus for doing it at night. Fortunately, the slopes which had proved so arduous to ascend were a synch to get down, almost glissade style. What had taken us 11 hrs to get up we bombed down, back into the heat and humidity, in 3 sharp. That afternoon John and I fare-welled Mugda, who exited direction Kyoto, and jumped on another bullet train for Tokyo.
What a city! Makes NYC look like nyc. And the public transport system just has to be seen to be believed. Had a few days kicking around and consuming more beer along with John, Aaron and DJ (my liver needs a holiday from the holiday) before I jumped on another Shinkansen, and bombed the 400 km (as the crow flies) from Tokyo to Osaka in 3 hrs flat (too easy), then onto the big bird for home.
The Osaka Cube conference centre
Virus model, oragami-style
Overexposed Osaka castle. Upon approach we had fireworks whistle past our ears coutesy of nearby youfs engaging in a fireworks fight. All fun and games until...
Ground control to major Tom. The Japanese really have a few issues when it comes to the bathroom.
The 40-ft bronze Buddha at Nara, perhaps comtemplating which button to press.
Nara is full of statues such as this, into which a candles are placed at night. Must be quite a sight.
Mt Fuji looms above the local town - not quite as speccy without the snow-dome. Pre 1950 it was white capped year round - global warming in action.
Distant city lights way below - viewed from approx 3000 m
The crack of dawn
Jungle mist rolling back in on the descent
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Winter
Winter in Sydney is rolling on. Everyone has been complaining about how cold it is this year, but from my perspective, residing at “the outpost”, I’ve seen very little of the frosts and certainly none of the frozen bird baths of last year. With the arrival of my new old car, Dad and I opted to drive the former old one up to my sister’s place, just south of the Gold Coast, where it will serve out its days. It was good to see my sister again, and become acquainted with my little nephew and niece, Jackson and Jessica.
Alas, whilst the last post waxed lyrical about how well things have been going science-wise – it’s been nothing but the opposite side of the spectrum since. That’s science for you. Lots of bad/unusable data, and the paper we had high hopes for got bounced not once, but three times, so its ended up submitted in a journal (JMB) where we normally publish, although I’m sure it will cite way above the journal’s weight once it eventually comes out. I’m currently putting a poster together for the IUCR conference which starts in Osaka on the weekend. It will be my first time in Japan, so I’m looking forward to experiencing new sights, tastes and sounds. And a few of us are very keen to climb Mt Fuji (~3700 m) before returning home. Fingers crossed with the weather there.
Have managed a little climbing, although it really is cold in the blueys of late, but the recent highlight was probably a day walk to the blue gum forest and back, in the Grose Valley, near Blackheath. I hadn’t been down there since a mega fire ripped through it a few years ago. It was nice to see that the bulk of the forest was untouched, and it was great to once again feel like ants beneath that huge canopy. We were less than impressed however, to discover that the NPWS has blocked the road to Perry’s Lookdown for some reason, so if you are keen to do it prepare yourself for a 2.5 km trudge to get to the top of the stairs (and again on the return trip). Ah yes, the stairs, as expected gave the old legs a hammering. It took Anita and I about 45 min to do the descent, during which both of us had the jelly-leg wobbles by about ½ way – makes Dave Gells plummet of ~12 min very impressive. After cruising around the bottom for a few hours (and yes, the Dunny at Acacia flat is still full), it took about 48 min to get back up the stairs and into the snow/sleet and rain that had been periodically falling all afternoon on the plateau….and then we had to trudge back to car into a glacial wind. Needless to say we ended up thawing for quite some time in front of the fire at The Gardeners Inn.
And yes, the Olympics have been happening as well, although after the awesome finale to the road race on day 1, everything else has been a bit of an anticlimax. The whole team rode a pretty good race, but Cancellara had the ride of the day. Haven’t the Poms been absolutely awesome on the track too – something I’ve not witnessed before. Coupled with The Cav’s ride at Le Tour, it seems that the Brits are going through a bit of a cycling renaissance.
Commuting at this time of year is always hard, particularly riding home in the cold and dark, but after I return from Osaka, I’ve got about 6 weeks to ready myself for the 24 hr, which I’m aiming to do with Lawrence and Ben this year. This will require some preparation as I’m creeping at the moment. I’ve just purchased my first set of tubeless wheels, so I’ll let you know how these go in due course.
Konnichiwa!
Alas, whilst the last post waxed lyrical about how well things have been going science-wise – it’s been nothing but the opposite side of the spectrum since. That’s science for you. Lots of bad/unusable data, and the paper we had high hopes for got bounced not once, but three times, so its ended up submitted in a journal (JMB) where we normally publish, although I’m sure it will cite way above the journal’s weight once it eventually comes out. I’m currently putting a poster together for the IUCR conference which starts in Osaka on the weekend. It will be my first time in Japan, so I’m looking forward to experiencing new sights, tastes and sounds. And a few of us are very keen to climb Mt Fuji (~3700 m) before returning home. Fingers crossed with the weather there.
Have managed a little climbing, although it really is cold in the blueys of late, but the recent highlight was probably a day walk to the blue gum forest and back, in the Grose Valley, near Blackheath. I hadn’t been down there since a mega fire ripped through it a few years ago. It was nice to see that the bulk of the forest was untouched, and it was great to once again feel like ants beneath that huge canopy. We were less than impressed however, to discover that the NPWS has blocked the road to Perry’s Lookdown for some reason, so if you are keen to do it prepare yourself for a 2.5 km trudge to get to the top of the stairs (and again on the return trip). Ah yes, the stairs, as expected gave the old legs a hammering. It took Anita and I about 45 min to do the descent, during which both of us had the jelly-leg wobbles by about ½ way – makes Dave Gells plummet of ~12 min very impressive. After cruising around the bottom for a few hours (and yes, the Dunny at Acacia flat is still full), it took about 48 min to get back up the stairs and into the snow/sleet and rain that had been periodically falling all afternoon on the plateau….and then we had to trudge back to car into a glacial wind. Needless to say we ended up thawing for quite some time in front of the fire at The Gardeners Inn.
And yes, the Olympics have been happening as well, although after the awesome finale to the road race on day 1, everything else has been a bit of an anticlimax. The whole team rode a pretty good race, but Cancellara had the ride of the day. Haven’t the Poms been absolutely awesome on the track too – something I’ve not witnessed before. Coupled with The Cav’s ride at Le Tour, it seems that the Brits are going through a bit of a cycling renaissance.
Commuting at this time of year is always hard, particularly riding home in the cold and dark, but after I return from Osaka, I’ve got about 6 weeks to ready myself for the 24 hr, which I’m aiming to do with Lawrence and Ben this year. This will require some preparation as I’m creeping at the moment. I’ve just purchased my first set of tubeless wheels, so I’ll let you know how these go in due course.
Konnichiwa!
My first encounter with the big prawn, Ballina
Moonrise over the ocean at Ballina
The horror that is the Gold Coast as viewed from Burleigh Heads
Jackson also looks unimpressed
Abbey, Jackson and Jessica
Totally unrelated - Cockies up to mischief on my commute
Lovely female King Parrot in my backyard
Heidi and I compare guts
I think I might have won!
At the top of Perry's Lookdown
Blue Gum forest
tree-hugger
These things are huge
Anita catching the last rays of the sun on a grade 17 at Mt York.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
