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!

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

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

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!

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.

mixed bag

It’s been a while since my last post, during which I’ve been up to lots of things and nothing. In the riding department there have been numerous outings on several fronts. Ben and I checked out the technical mtb wonderland which is Red Hill, on the escarpment just south of the Narrabeen lakes. We discovered some absolutely terrifying drop-offs, which are obviously frequently ridden, as evidenced by the dirt smudges on the edges and landings. Not keen to become statistics, we limited our activity to the more sedate features. We also discovered some of the most amazing cement-like mud I’ve had to extract myself from.

All this riding got Anita interested to the point of actually giving it a go. On her first foray in the Royal National Park, she proclaimed it was the best fun she’d ever had on a bicycle only minutes before falling off on a tricksy descent and breaking her finger. She was even less amused at the prognosis – 2-3 months off climbing. This was going to test the relationship – as she is not the type who enjoys sitting idle.

So, in the absence of being able to climb or cycle, walking was one obvious avenue for release. We picked a weekend and aimed to do the Mt Solitary circuit over two days. Despite a lousy forecast, we set off on what turned out to be a lovely Saturday afternoon. We left the car at the top of the golden stairs on the Narrowneck peninsular, and headed off in the direction of the ruined castle, which we ended up just skirting as we had left a little late in the day. The climb up the ridge onto Mt Solitary was as enjoyable as I remembered, with fantastic views back across to the walls below Katoomba on one side, and more Narrowneck wilderness in the Kanangra direction. On top we decided to push on towards the middle of the massif, however, due to a navigational mishap by yours truly we ended up camping at Chinamans gully. The following day was a bit of a shocker, in the sense that the bureau of meteorology got the forecast spot on – rain and drizzle for the entire day (emphasis on entire!). I made the typical langles mistake of thinking I would just laugh at the cold (sans raincoat), preferring to walk wet than steam inside plastic all day – which was fine up to the point of about 10 hours later when the cold finally got to me as we trudged along the road towards the old abandoned hospital on the Kings Tableland. Fortunately, the taxi ride was only a phone call away, and having picked up the car we defrosted in the pub at Wentworth falls over a hot meal.

Other news includes the fact that as well as going the way of the mobile phone, I have also acquired my very own motor vehicle – a second hand mazda 323, which I’m embarrassed to say I’ve become very attached to – manual shifting and all. Just goes to show how hypocritical and easily corruptible an anti-technology motor-vehicle-phobe can be.

Work work work. That is the other thing that’s been consuming considerable time lately, but not entirely without payoff. My rather lean publication record has recently been swelled by the addition of several long-time-coming first author papers. Additionally, another paper aimed at the more prestigious Molecular Cell has recently been submitted on the back of a structure I was also instrumental in solving, and there is likely to be at least one other come the end of the year – my best year to date as far as publications are concerned. Maybe I’ll survive in the science game for a little while yet.

Sporting-wise, whilst I haven’t been up to much myself, I’ve been totally engrossed in two particular endeavors of late. The first involves the battle between two sets of climbers to bag the record for the speed ascent of The Nose route on El Capitan in Yosemite – a climb of approx 900 m (31 pitches, 5:10, A2), and first sieged by a cast of thousands back in the 60’s over some 45 days, but now tackled routinely by the elite in less than a days work! Hans Florine and Yugi Harayama have owned the record for much of the last 20 years, the most recent incarnation of which stood at 2 hr 48 min, until the rock'n roll Huber brothers knocked 3 min off it late last year. They made a film about their attempt to break it (“to the limit”), which is worth catching if you can find it showing. Not to be outdone, Hans and Yugi returned to the valley and over a period of about 3 weeks made numerous attempts to re-gain the record. I found myself captivated by the (almost daily) reports on various attempts etc. There is a huge amount of video footage to be found on the web if you’re interested. On their last shot before Yugi was to return to Japan, they finally shaved another 1 ½ minutes off it. It now stands at 2:43:33. I now await the return of the Hubers for the inevitable raising of the bar.

And of course there is Le Tour, which has been funking with my sleep for over a week now. Cadel has finally realised a dream and nabbed yellow. Go Cadel!!!



Another mega drop-off Ben and I wisely stay clear of.

a misplaced foot

me nu mo'a

on the ridge up to Mt Solitary

nice views on the day when we had them

more sensible wet weather attire

Ham models the brown jersey

more miserable weather - the ferry is somewhere out there in the fog

the protein crystallography beamline at the Australian Synchrotron

Kev near the top of the Tourmalet a few months ago, which the tour passed over last night.
Super shot Kev!

Dirtworks 08

Dirtworks 2008, Sunday May 4th

Last year I fronted up with pretty good fitness but with no clue what to expect and was subsequently horrified by the brutality of the course. This year I was not quite as fit, but knew what was on the menu and even had a plan. The lead up to this year’s race had been far from ideal, to say the least, with Sydney copping almost 3 weeks of constant rain which only relented a week before the event. However, the mtb gods smiled on us presenting an absolutely stunning day with the temp probably just hitting 20 as most riders were hitting the line in the early-mid afternoon.

I arrived at St Albans in a bit of a panic with a rear brake issue. That morning I finally worked out how to remove the brake pads (brute force and pliers), only to discover that whilst the front pads were fine, the rears were worn through to the metal on one side (something the shop was meant to address recently – not mentioning any names Burwood Cycles). Purchased a set of new ones en route and tried to fit them whilst in the queue at Wiseman’s Ferry, only to discover that there was no way I was going to get the new ones in. Fortunately, the guys at the service tent (City Bike Depot, Kent St) were familiar with the problem and promptly lubed the piston housings (one of which was sticking), and bled some fluid from the piston chamber (requiring more tools I am yet to acquire), allowing the new pads to be inserted. There is a lot about this mtb caper I am yet to learn. Relieved, and with my tent erect, I found “Single-Speed” Rob in the pub and had a beer before heading off for dinner, which this time I brought with me rather than suffer the inefficiency of the pub – which proved to be a good move.

Slept reasonably and at about 5:30 am joined in the hubbub of 1000 campers tinkering with pots, pans and portaloos, making last minute adjustments, and readying for the start – 6:30 am for the elite field. I started in the last wave of people doing the 100 km event, and was underway at 7 am. My cunning plan was to pace myself a bit better, be less aggressive but more consistent on the hills, and make better use of the feeds, which happened at 25, 50 and 75 km. It opted for a 3-stop strategy this time (only 2 previously). Pacing yourself on the climbs and embracing – indeed loving – the granny gear will get you a long way, and keep the legs supple, as opposed to the road rider’s strategy of simply muscling through every pinch. Last year I hardly used the granny, this year I probably spent ¼ of the distance and ½ the time in it. I started very cold – fingers numb before the first climb, but soon warmed up and lost the gillet and cap at the first feed. The technical crux’s for me once again were the rock-garden sections km 35-45 and km 55-65. With these out of the way I carefully negotiated the first big descent and soon arrived at the next obstacle – the pontoon bridge. Re-caught Rob at this point (he blitzed me on the descent), and decided to follow his lead and have a crack at riding the bridge (~50 m long consisting of a platform 18 inches wide lashed periodically to canoes). Only got 1/3 of the way across before the wobbles got to me and I knew I was off. Somehow managed to disengage and have my left foot land in the seat of a canoe, preventing the inevitable! Apparently about 5 others were less fortunate and ended up in the drink. I’ll be walking it next year. Arrived at the top of the second climb (and last feed) in good shape. Even the last 25 seemed easy this year. I turned on the gas, expecting to cream my time of last year given how strong I was feeling, but only managed to beat it by 10 min with a time of 5:49:16.

Suffered no crashes, no mechanicals, not even any cramping, and finished unshattered. Perhaps hadn’t gone as hard as I could have, but was overall very happy with my ride. Thought the track was a little easier this year, with many of the sand traps carrying more moisture and being more easily negotiated, although the frequent mud puddles slowed one up elsewhere. The winning time, BTW, was an incredible 4:09, a minute quicker than last year! There was the usual assortment of tales and horror stories at the end. Saw one guy roll in minus a saddle – but still had the front 1/2 of the saddle rails! Another without saddle or seatpost. Another minus one crank arm. Numerous with stories of exploding derailleurs, busted chains, grueling walks and mechanical jiggery-pokery. Sobering to be later informed that two people were evacuated by helicopter, and another 4 evacuated by ambulance – the worst accident list thus far for the event. Glad to get through with zero crashes this year. Overall, another fantastic day, which has primed my appetite for the 24 hr and the Highland Fling later in the year. Any takers?

Andersons and Oaks mtb trails

With Dirtworks looming I thought it high time to get in some mtb practice in the form of a couple of Saturdays on trails of the lower blue mountains. The first outing aimed for the Oaks trail, by first riding up the highway. I managed to rope in a couple from work (John and Frances), Ben from climbing, and even Gerard with a brand spanker (Specialzed Epic), whom we were to meet at Woodford. As is often the case with these mtb capers, there were a few stops, starts and issues along the way. Before we even started we had to swap two sets of slicks for two sets of knobblies for John and Frances. En route up the highway, Ben punctured on a bottle thoughtfully dispatched by a motorist. We all ran over the debris - it was perhaps inevitable that one of us should be claimed. This was the first of many punctures for Ben on the day – not surprising given the thinness of his rear tyre which was losing teeth. The same wheel broke a handful of spokes before the day was out. Upon meeting Gerard we learnt that the rear “brain” suspension on the epic was already bleeding oil on its inaugural ride – and we hadn’t even hit the rough stuff yet. The result - fully active "pogo" suspension all the time. Most of us had some kind on incident coming down the trail – including myself, due to the sheer stupidity of trying repeatedly to master the mono clipped in, only to flip the thing and land square on my back, although John, who witnessed it from directly behind thought it an excellent trick but not one he wanted to emulate.

I should add that this was the first “mobile” outing for the inevitable acquisition the langles mobile (thanks to BT, Gerard and the jibes from a cast of thousands) – hence the modification of the blog banner. Somehow landing on my back failed to crush this new extravagance.

The following weekend Ben and I were keen for the Andersons/Oaks double, again making a loop of it by riding up the highway from Glenbrook to Wentworth Falls, where we met Tony who was only keen for the downhill bit. Despite threatening rain all day, we managed to escape any serious dousings, but we weren’t able to escape the usual array of mechanicals. These started early (km 12) with Ben cracking a front hub bearing such that the front wheel virtually seized. A bit of manipulation and luck resulted in the wheel turning normally again, but not before some serious concern about how we were going to get the thing back to the car, let alone fixed. We gambled on continuing, and as it turned out the wheel gave no more trouble for the rest of the day. His rear wheel, shod with a new tire and with some new spokes (damaged last week), gave no further trouble, although after the first big descent of the day he flipped his brake pad to the correct orientation! Tony on the other hand ended up with all the punctures, not to mention taking the odd spill on some of the descents, although fortunately didn't break anything or lose lose too much claret for his efforts. The killer climb back to Woodford was not quite as dreadful as I remember, probably due to it being a lovely 18-20 C, as opposed to bloody hot when I’ve done it previously. Not feeling too bad, I had two cracks at it. The first involved 4 stops, and the second only 3. The second time round I got the bottom half clean – something I hadn’t managed before, so perhaps my bike handling skills are improving. On a good day I reckon I’ll crack the whole thing clean (he says now!).

Having negotiated Andersons, the Oaks trail finish now seemed pretty tame. It was very satisfying to be knocking off both in the same day (a 90 km round trip). Having got through the technical part of the Oaks, Ben (who was on a schedule) and I bid Tony good luck and pushed ahead, giving the single track some stick before wallowing up the final climb back to the car. Riding too and from the Concord oval rendezvous (where I met Ben, and where he dropped me off) made it probably the longest day I’ve ever had on an mtb (120 km), although about ½ of this was on the hard black stuff. Now, one more weekend to go before Dirtworks proper. I just hope we get some dry weather – the monotonous weeks of rain are making training difficult.

Ben, Frances and John at Glenbrook stream

Rare sighting of Gerard with mtb

Ben and Tony - Andersons trail

Tony re-adjusts the kitchen sink

we did this a few times - even claiming a pump in the process

I am now connected - damn!

top of the Oaks trail

Ben showing good helmet head