April 15, 2012

Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week two

Fletch doing another monster turn as we roll toward Mt. Macedon.

After the first week of the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy Challenge on Strava, I’d already amassed 341km, putting me well ahead of schedule to ride 800km in April. I’d finished the week with a solid 112km ride and I was starting to build some great momentum.

But that momentum didn’t last long with week two of the challenge getting off to a sluggish start. Read more

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6
April 8, 2012

Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: week one

View from the Whitfield-Mansfield road.

In the four months after last year’s 3 Peaks Challenge I only rode my bike twice. After completing the epic task I’d set myself, I found my motivation waning and I had no real desire to get back on the bike.

This time around, I’m not letting my fitness go to waste. I’ve signed up for the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy challenge on Strava — a fabulous cause and one I’m proud to be raising awareness about.

The goal is simple: ride 800km in April. That boils down to more or less 200km a week. Now, with one week completed, I’ve ridden 341km and I’m well ahead of schedule. Read more

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2
March 30, 2012

Ride Hard to Breathe Easy: prologue

Image courtesy of Ride Hard to Breathe Easy.

Every time I’ve stepped into the second bedroom of my shoebox apartment in the past few weeks, I’ve been struck by a small pang of disappointment. My bike is just sitting there, leaning casually against the wall as if to say ‘well, are we heading out now?’

It’s been nearly three weeks since I finished the 3 Peaks Challenge and the closest I’ve been to getting on the bike are those wistful glances at the ol’ Cannondale of an evening. Read more

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3
March 22, 2012

Guest post: 3 Peaks Challenge (I am the mountain)

It’s easy to forget that the Donvale Demon only took up cycling in the second half of last year. Since then he’s completed the Around the Bay in a Day (210km version) and thrown everything at his preparations for the 3 Peaks Challenge. In this guest post the Demon describes his first 3 Peaks attempt.

The Donvale Demon crossing the finish line.

Plenty of riders zipped by me on the way down Falls Creek, which added to my general mood of glumness. It was an emotional day for me, for reasons unconnected to the ride, and reasons I won’t trouble you with here.

In addition to those, quite morose concerns, I was keen not to come skidding off the bike and faceplant the road – as is my wont at times – on the way down that seemingly endless first descent. Read more

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12
March 15, 2012

Episode 19: 3 Peaks Challenge 2012

Route: 3 Peaks Challenge
Distance: 235km

Yours truly doing battle with the Back of Falls climb. (Image: Andy van Bergen)

There was a brief moment on the lower slopes of Mt Hotham when I thought to myself: ‘Finishing 3 Peaks isn’t going to be satisfying this year. I’ve already done it once, what’s to be gained by doing it a second time?’

How wrong I was.

Crossing the finish line on Sunday was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. It was a day of so many little victories and the culmination of so much hard work … but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Brendan and I drove up to Falls Creek late on Saturday morning. We stopped at Bogong village for a brief chat to my partner Sharon and her parents who had come up to cheer us on and to enjoy a relaxing long weekend.

Up at Falls Creek Brendan and I checked in to our accommodation, got our bikes checked (lights and brakes), registered for the ride, and caught up with the rest of the crew at the rider briefing.

It wasn’t just Brendan and I up for the ride — the Donvale Demon was there, as was Matt ‘Fletch’ Fletcher. Andy van Bergen and Evan Henley were also there, representing Hells 500. (If you haven’t already read Andy’s terrific account of the 300km Three Long Five High ride he put together, you should. It’s a cracking read.)

After the rider briefing and a carbohydrate-rich dinner, Brendan and I headed off to bed to get as much sleep as we could before the 5.30am alarm sounded.  We happened to be sharing a room with 3 Peaks Pro rider Peter English and the Lantern Rouge (Ben Douglas). They’re a couple of great dudes and it was a lot of fun chatting with them about 3 Peaks and cycling in general. I reckon it’s the closest I’ll ever get to feeling like I’m part of a pro cycling team

The 3 Peaks Pro team being introduced at the rider briefing.

On Sunday morning we rose early and staggered to breakfast in the pre-dawn cold. By 6.30, and with bellies full to bursting, we made our way to the start line to join a seething mass of nervous riders, red and white lights blinking as the sun slowly rose.

Even at the start line I knew it was going to be a better ride than last year’s. For a start, there wasn’t even a hint of rain on the horizon or the Bureau of Meteorology forecast. More importantly, I was starting the ride with two of the crew beside me: Brendan and the Donvale Demon. Last year I started alone, rode alone and finished the ride alone.

As it was I lost both Brendan and the Demon in the first 2km, Brendan down the hill in front of me, the Demon somewhere behind, wary of a repeat of his Baw Baw antics.

It took most of the descent for my pre-ride nerves to disappear but by the time I reached Bogong (and waved to Sharon and family as I rode past) I was ready to go. There was still no sign of Brendan so I kicked things up a gear and burned a few matches trying to bridge the gap. I eventually caught him about halfway to Mt. Beauty and together we tapped out the remaining kilometres to the base of the first peak: Tawonga Gap.

We hadn’t agreed on whether we would all stick together throughout the day but when I found myself opening a bit of a gap on Brendan on the climb, I decided I would wait for him at the top and together we would continue.

Once I’d found a nice rhythm, the climb itself was quite pleasant. I found myself on the wheel of some guy in dhb knicks (thanks!) and together we streamed past plenty of riders. The last time I climbed Tawonga it was 40 degrees, the road was melting and it felt as if I was riding in a furnace.  This time around it was far more pleasant and the kays flew by. I crested the climb in around 29 minutes and waited a few minutes for Brendan to arrive.

When Brendan arrived at the summit we discussed whether we should wait for the Demon to catch us or not. We decided to push on, knowing the Demon’s formidable skills on the flatlands would see him rejoin us before too long.

Climbing Mt. Hotham in perfect conditions.

We flew down the mountain toward Germantown, Brendan putting on a show with some wonderful descending skills. At Germantown we took a left and started the 20km transition to the start of the Mt. Hotham climb.

Before too long Brendan and I found ourselves in a “group” as we worked toward Harrietville. I say “group” because while there was a collection of riders in close proximity to one another, any kind of collaborative effort was noticeably absent. Moving at only 25km/h I was starting to get twitchy but, with riders taking up the whole lane, I couldn’t find room to get past.

No sooner had the group arranged itself two abreast than the Donvale Demon came speeding up on my right. Brendan and I jumped on and together the three of us sped toward Harrietville. That half an hour was one of the best parts of the day — the weather was fantastic, my legs were feeling fresh, I had riders around me and I was feeling good.

We stopped momentarily in Harrietville for water and then got to work on Mt. Hotham. Brendan, the Demon I got separated quite quickly and it was back to climbing alone. As I worked through the opening kilometres I was feeling strong and I managed to pass plenty of riders as I went.

And then I got hungry.

I’d spent the past few days carbo-loading like nobody’s business and yet, as I approached the final kilometres of the Hotham false-flat, I noticed myself getting weaker and my energy levels dropping right off. This was a frustrating feeling, especially as I’d been eating throughout the ride. I arrived at the conclusion I was in need of some real food and that energy bars just weren’t going to cut it.

As I stopped at Buckland Gate just long enough to stretch my ITBs (not just the one that’s been giving me trouble for weeks) and slam down a banana, a voice behind me said “stretch those ITBs!” It was Andy, who was looking strong and fresh and before long I was joining he and Evan as they neared the final third of the Hotham climb.

The two of them took it pretty easy for the remainder of the climb and I pushed on toward the summit, with the aim of meeting them at the Dinner Plain lunch stop. As I rolled under the bridge and into the Mt. Hotham village I hit ‘lap’ on my Garmin 500 and noticed that, despite the rest stop, I’d managed to climb Hotham in less than 1 hour 50 minutes — a PB of roughly five minutes, and about 20 minutes faster than last year’s 3 Peaks.

Descending toward Omeo.

Despite that small victory my ITBs were both hurting and I was desperate for some real food. I pushed through the 11km to Dinner Plain and lined up for lunch feeling tired but satisfied — two peaks down, one to go.

The lunch stop was great for a number of reasons. Not only did I get a chance to eat a solid lunch and stretch my legs, but the whole crew got to catch up before launching into the second half of the day.

Fletch was already at Dinner Plain when I arrived — a phenomenal effort given he’d been battling a virus all week and was still feeling ordinary. Andy and Evan rolled in a few minutes after me, and within the next 20 minutes or so Brendan and the Demon joined us as well.

In the weeks leading up to 3 Peaks my goal had gone from just finishing the event, to finishing in under 10 hours riding time. Last year I had completed the course in 10 hours 36 minutes and with all the extra training I’d done this year, I thought I was a realistic change of shaving 37 minutes off that time.

When we stopped at Dinner Plain I pulled out a piece of paper on which I’d written the timechecks I’d need to make in order to go under 10 hours. After 115km I was 10 minutes ahead of schedule — so far so good.

Fletch rolled out first, followed by Andy and Evan a short time later and then Brendan, the Donvale Demon and I. Launching into the descent, Brendan jumped to the front once more and was gone. With some deft cornering and a fearless attitude he gained a few minutes on us and we didn’t see him for the next 40km.

The Demon and I stuck together most of the way to Omeo, enjoying the scenery and the fact the weather had remained fine. There was still a long way to go but I think we were both starting to realise we would each finish the day with a 3 Peaks finisher’s jersey in our possession.

Brendan at the front, and not for the first time.

After 35km of great descents, amazing scenery and the occasional painful climb, the Demon and I bombed down the most enjoyable descent of the day and into Omeo. Brendan was waiting for us at the rest stop and after we all filled up water bottles and food reserves we saddled up and got ready to tackle the last 75km of the ride.

As we rolled out of the rest stop I took a quick peek at my timesheet. Somehow I’d dropped four minutes on the way down from Dinner Plain and I was only six minutes under the split that would get me back to Falls Creek in under 10 hours riding time.

The quiet country roads between Omeo and Anglers Rest are one of the highlights of 3 Peaks in my opinion. As we made our way along the Omeo Highway and climbed the 4km rise just out of Omeo, we drank in the surrounds. ‘Best to enjoy the scenery while we can’, I thought, ‘because there’s not much enjoyment to be had once the final climb starts’.

With Brendan driving hard at the front, we managed to average around 30km/h on the wonderful rollers to Anglers Rest. I found myself working pretty hard just to keep up and by the time I got to the Anglers Rest stop Brendan had already been waiting for a minute or so.

We met up with Andy and Evan at Anglers and together the five of us set off toward WTF Corner and the start of the last (and most difficult) climb of the day. A quick check of my timesheet showed I was roughly 10 minutes ahead of schedule again– back on track.

We chewed through those 11km after Anglers Rest without too much trouble and before we knew it we were staring up at the monstrosity that is the Bogong High Plains Road.

Last time I climbed the Back of Falls I described it as a surprisingly easy ride that I somehow managed to enjoy. Sunday was no such picnic.

Even with a 34×28, there were times where just turning over the pedals was a real strain. I spent a lot of time with my speed touching 7km/h and on more than one occasion I thought I’d have to stop (as I’d done plenty of times last year with a 39×26).

The weather looks nice but the Back of Falls climb was anything but pleasant.

For those first 9km, any thoughts of finishing the ride in under 10 hours were swept aside. Instead it simply became a matter of survival — keep turning the cranks; keep moving toward the finish.

And somehow I managed to do just that. Every time I thought I needed a breather, the road would flatten slightly and I’d get a brief reprieve. And then the road would go up again and I’d be back in the hurt box.

I reckon it’s easy to look back on moments like that and think ‘Oh well, I got through it. It mustn’ve been that hard!’ But let me tell you, I was suffering in ways that I haven’t experienced on the bike in a long time, if at all.

I was tired and sore, I was feeling hungry and I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs just to power the next pedal stroke. Having Andy and Evan about 100m up the road throughout the climb was a great carrot and one that really helped me through an hour of real suffering.

It seemed to take forever to get to Trapyard Gap but when I finally did it was a huge psychological boost — the worst was behind me and it was only 8km to the summit of the climb. After one final break, Brendan, Andy, Evan, Fletch and I set off on the ride’s final section. Leaving Trapyard Gap I checked my Garmin — to go under 10 hours I would need to cover the ride’s final 20km in around 90 minutes.

Sure, it sounds easy now, but with 215km in the legs and with a bunch of climbing still to go it was no certainty. I resolved just to get through the remainder of the climbing and go hard in the last 14km if I still had the energy.

The group broke apart almost immediately after Trapyard Gap with Brendan, Fletch and Andy setting the pace up ahead. Evan and I rode side-by-side, chatting about his extraordinary effort in Three Long Five High just two weeks prior and about how 3 Peaks compared to that ride and the Audax Alpine Classic.

I’d like to say the day’s last section of climbing was easy, but even those easier final kilometres were a real challenge. It was a real bonus having Evan there to distract me from my tired, aching legs and the desire to pull over and have a rest.

The summit of the Back of Falls climb.

Eventually we emerged from the trees and found ourselves on the Falls Creek plateau. As we summited the climb the game instantly changed. With a burst of adrenaline we kicked it into the big dog and started to pick up the pace.

As the kilometres ticked by I had calculations running through my head. The average speed I needed to go under 10 hours kept dropping — first it was 15km/h, then it was 12km/h and then, when it dropped below 10km/h while I was sitting on 35km/h I knew I was home.  I was going to finish 3 Peaks and I was going to go under 10 hours.

At the same time I was racing against the clock, Brendan was in a battle of his own up the road. He’d taken roughly 20 minutes longer than me to climb Tawonga and Hotham combined, and after he decided (at Trapyard Gap) he would also try for under 10 hours, his equation became a lot more challenging than mine.

He flew off the front with Andy and put in a huge effort, driving hard to the top of the climb and giving it everything he had down into Falls Creek.

In the end he crossed the line with a ride time of just under 9 hours 50 minutes — a truly fantastic effort given how late he started training seriously for this event. When I crossed the line three minutes later I stopped my Garmin and had a look at my ride time: 9 hours 23 minutes.

It’s hard to put into words just how good a moment like that feels. In fact, it was probably a couple of moments.

It started at the summit of the final climb, knowing that all of the hard work was done. When the Rocky Valley Storage Dam was visible around a corner for the first time, the feeling intensified — only a few kilometres to go.

And then, when we reached the top of the short rise just after the dam wall, well, if there’s a better buzz you can have as a recreational cyclist I want to know about it. From there it was just a short roll down the hill, past plenty of cheering onlookers and across the line.

Mission complete.

Seeing the Rocky Valley Storage Dam for the first time is like some kind of heaven.

All things considered, we really couldn’t have asked for a better day. The weather was sublime, the event was superbly run by Bicycle Network Victoria and the whole crew crossed the line without so much as a single puncture between us. A terrific effort all round, particularly from the Donvale Demon who well and truly silenced his critics with yet another stunning ride. I’m very much looking forward to reading his perspective on the ride early next week.

In the weeks leading up to the event I was unsure of how to balance my desire to ride with the rest of the guys while still improving on last year’s performance. In the end, I think we managed the perfect balance.

I got to ride with everyone for at least part of the day and I also managed to smash the goal I’d set for myself. The trade-off was roughly two-hours-worth of breaks spread across the day, meaning it took roughly 11 hours 30 minutes elapsed to finish the ride. Sure, I could have done it faster, but the joy of riding and completing an event such as the 3 Peaks Challenge with a bunch of great blokes far outweighed any desire I had to finish any earlier than I did.

As mentioned, there are a lot of differences between this year’s 3 Peaks and last year’s event — the weather being an obvious example. But perhaps the biggest difference is that I’ve come away from this year’s 3 Peaks with a real desire to get back on the bike ASAP.

I didn’t ride for a couple of months after last year’s event but this time around, I certainly won’t let it go so long. For a start, I’ve got the Ride Hard 2 Breathe Easy challenge on Strava to think about (if you haven’t already signed up, get on it!). I just need to do something about these stupid ITBs.

Brendan and I after crossing the line. (Image: Betty Ridgway)

Before I bring this (long!) post to a close, I’d like to say a couple of ‘thank-you’s to the people who helped me achieve my goal of completing a second 3 Peaks Challenge.

Thanks to the Donvale Demon for joining me on many training rides and for providing a real source of inspiration over the past five months. Thanks to Brendan for your company on many a training ride as well and for allowing me to partially make amends for causing you to be a ‘DNF’ two years ago.

Thanks to Fletch and Dougie for making the effort to come up to Falls Creek back in January and for the rides since then. Thanks to Andy van Bergen for organising our trip to Falls Creek back in January, for inviting the Demon, Brendan and I to spin classes a few months back, and for providing all kinds of ridiculous inspiration.

Thanks to Sam and Sarah at the Spin Room for the often-brutal spin classes that helped me reach a level of fitness I’d never previously enjoyed. The sessions weren’t always fun, but they were always valuable. Thanks too to everyone that came up on Sunday and said ‘hi’ and asked how my ITBs were. It was very heartening to have that support from people I’d never met.

Thanks to the wonderful crew at Bicycle Network Victoria for having Brendan and I along as their guests for the weekend and for putting on a truly wonderful cycling event. Everyone I spoke to across the weekend remarked at how well organised the whole thing was and how smoothly everything seemed to go. I couldn’t agree more — a job well done folks!

Thanks to my family for their constant support throughout this whole crazy endeavour, with particular mention to my partner Sharon. She’s been unbelievably supportive throughout and has put up with many lonely evenings over the past few months while I’ve been sitting here blogging.

And finally, thanks to all of you for reading not just this post, but all of the posts I’ve put together over the past five months. It often feels weird to sit here typing about, well, myself, but the amount of positive feedback I’ve had over the journey — and particularly in the past few weeks — makes it all worthwhile.

I hope you’ve got something out of these blogs, whether that’s a desire to attempt the 3 Peaks Challenge at some point,  to try one of the many terrific climbs around this great state of ours, or even just to get back on your bike.

Thanks for reading.

3 Peaks Challenge complete.

More 3 Peaks experiences:

I you’d like to add your 3 Peaks write-up to this list, send me an email with the details. Hover your mouse over the images below to see a description.

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31
March 9, 2012

Episode 18: Let’s roll!

The fact I’ve already completed the 3 Peaks Challenge before doesn’t feel like an advantage at this stage. I feel surprisingly nervous for Sunday and I’m more than a little bit scared of how my ITB is going to hold up.

But, then again, the hard work is all done. I’ve got five months of solid training behind me and, compared to last year, I’m feeling really strong on the bike. I’ve been taking huge chunks off my PBs on the climbs, my average speed has been up and I’m fitter than I’ve ever been. I’ve also put my bike in for a (probably unecessary) service, including a check of brake and gear cables.

And yet it won’t be until I get to, say, Dinner Plain that I’ll be confident of finishing 3 Peaks. Truth be told, I’m just looking forward to rolling across the start line and putting some kays behind me.

Pre-event nerves aside, it’s looking like Sunday will be a rather pleasant day as far as the weather’s concerned. The forecasts for Falls Creek and Mt. Hotham are both looking fine with temperatures somewhere between 10 and 15 degrees. I’ll be happy as long as it doesn’t rain. Then again, it wouldn’t be 3 Peaks without a spot of drizzle (or a torrential downpour) would it?

I had planned to head out for a ride last weekend with Brendan and the Donvale Demon but I was ill for most of the weekend. I had no desire to risk making myself sicker and so it was just Brendan and the Demon who headed out to Kinglake.

Speaking of Brendan and the Demon, it’s been great watching those two improve their fitness markedly in recent weeks. Brendan probably started his training later than he would have liked, but he’s reached 3 Peaks in great condition. The Demon, too, is in great shape. With any luck, he’ll cross the finish line on Sunday evening and prove to his doubters just how motivated he was to complete this challenge.

The three of us will be joined by Matt ‘Fletch’ Fletcher, assuming he can shake a nasty virus that’s kept him off the bike for the past week. Hope you’re on the mend mate!

We’ll also have the pleasure of riding alongside Andy van Bergen of Hells 500 fame … at least for a little while. When you can ride 300km in a day with nearly 6,000 vertical metres — which Andy and his crew did just a few weeks ago – you tend to be a stronger rider than us mere mortals!

For the past few days it’s been all about carbo-loading. I’ve been eating a couple of lunches and a couple of dinners every day and I feel full all the time. It’s a significant departure from the past five months where I felt hungry all day long and no amount of food could seem to fill me up.

Brendan and I are driving up to Falls Creek tomorrow morning in preparation for an early start on Sunday. One of the most memorable parts of last year’s 3 Peaks was the drive up to the start of the ride with Brendan blasting some pump-up tunes from his iPod. I’m hoping there’s a bit of that this year as well, and I’ve included a few songs in this post to get us all in the mood.

And that’s about it. I’ll be on Twitter all weekend and tweeting with the #3peaks hashtag during the ride itself. Feel free to leave me questions or comments and I’ll respond when I can.

Thanks to everyone that’s shown their support over the past five months, especially to those who have come along for training rides. It’s been great to share the ups and downs of training with you guys and I look forward to a bunch of high-fives (digital or in person) at the finish line on Sunday evening!

2 days to go …

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8
March 8, 2012

Guest post: Brisbane2Melbourne charity ride

Riding 160km in a day is an impressive effort. Riding an average of 160km a day for two weeks is a whole ‘nother level of impressive. That’s exactly what Sean Sampson plans to do when he sets off from Brisbane on Saturday morning and rides south. His plan: ride from Brisbane to Melbourne in two weeks to raise money for charity. In this guest post Sean describes the evolution of the Brisane2Melbourne idea and how there’s much more to a ride of this magnitude than just rolling up at the start line.

When you sit down with a map and actually plan how you’ll ride a bicycle from Brisbane to Melbourne via Sydney, it suddenly dawns on you: it’s a bloody long way. And of course there’s the small matter of getting over the Great Dividing Range.

When I first mentioned my grand plan to my wife, she laughed. In fact, I’m certain she’s still laughing now but after 12 months she’s learned to hide it. You see, I’m anything but your stereotypical cyclist.

I’m 6 foot 3, on the wrong side of 100kg and, while we’re all being honest, only took up cycling as I loathed the boredom of sitting in traffic to and from the office. That’s three fairly significant hurdles in the way of a 2,000+km along Australia’s east coast.

Such obstacles prompted many to ask me the same question: why?!

Why indeed. It started off with the idea of cycling home from Sydney after Christmas, just for something different. My wife is to blame for it spiralling from there — she suggested I do it for charity.

I thought about it, and concluded that 1,000km is hardly worthwhile. I decided to ride from Brisbane instead — that would be interesting enough to get some attention. And just like that, Brisbane 2 Melbourne was born.

Choosing the charities I wanted to support was equally easy. I’d had a long association with Foundation 5 Million+ from when I was living in Sydney, and I’d become involved with Cottage by the Sea through work when I moved to Melbourne.

F5m+ was started by a guy called Ian Ballard who had the dream of raising $5 million for research into a cure for MS. Sadly, Ian lost his battle before the $5 million was raised, but his legacy continues and F5m+ is now chasing their second $5 million.

Cottage by the Sea are a much smaller outfit. They’re based in Queenscliff and they provide short-term relief care for children whose families are experiencing difficulties. While parents deal with their difficulties, the children are cared for and get to experience camping and surfing in a safe environment.

I love the ocean so I wanted to keep the water nearby as much as possible throughout the ride. It will give me that psychological nudge to keep pushing when those mental and physical walls come up.

Starting in Brisbane’s Grey Street, I’ll wind my way through to the Gold Coast and start tracking along the coastline. Passing through towns such as Byron Bay, Coffs Harbour and Port Macquarie, it won’t be difficult to stay motivated.


View Larger Map

It’s certainly not a race to get to Melbourne, so if any particular day does get too tough, I won’t think twice about putting the bike down, throwing the swimmers on and taking a dip.

I’ve set myself a target speed of 25km/h. Granted, there’ll be periods where I’ll comfortably cruise along quicker, but the ride is about generating awareness so I’ll be making stops in many of the towns I pass through, be it for a drink or a meal.

Having grown up in Sydney, I have a soft-spot for the NSW coast, both north and south. This was a big reason for choosing to stay coastal as opposed to heading inland. There are so many amazing sights to take in — I’d be foolish to simply rush past them chasing a Strava segment.

Training for two weeks of constant riding is something I never thought I’d need to think about. I spoke to coaches, to riders, to clubs, to dieticians, to anyone I thought could have any useful information to help me survive intact.

Cyclesmart were great in assisting with the jerseys, but I struck out securing any sponsorship elsewhere. My wallet took a beating as I churned through countless kilometres and my wife showed the patience of a saint while watching me do hours of internet research, trying to educate myself on endurance riding.

Two years ago I had never even taken part in a group ride. When I finished the 100km Sorrento to Melbourne version of the 2010 Around the Bay in a Day, I nearly cried crossing the line – it was the longest ride I had ever completed. Now, 100km has become a near minimum for any weekend ride.

Granted, the pace isn’t always that quick, but I wasn’t training to go fast, just to go. My training rides often incorporate the Emerald Bakery, Mt Eliza’s Café on the Mount and a piece of cherry slice at Sky High Mt. Dandenong — a man needs his incentives!

Saturday March 10 will no doubt be the start of a fortnight that will make me cry, make me laugh and make me need to dig deeper than ever before. There’s no prize at the end other than a cold beer and the feeling of accomplishment. But then again, that’s all cycling is really about. Journalist Scott Martin sums it up pretty well:

To be a cyclist is to be a student of pain … at cycling’s core lies pain, hard and bitter as the pit inside a juicy peach. It doesn’t matter if you’re sprinting for an Olympic medal, a town sign, a trailhead, or the rest stop with the homemade brownies. If you never confront pain, you’re missing the essence of the sport. Without pain, there’s no adversity. Without adversity, no challenge. Without challenge, no improvement. No improvement, no sense of accomplishment and no deep-down joy. Might as well be playing Tiddly-Winks.

You can follow my ride at www.Brisbane2Melbourne.com or on Twitter @Bris2Mel. The ride is open to anyone who would like to join me, if even for part of one day.  Just get in touch and we can work out a spot to meet. It will be great to have some company out on the road.

Have you got a cycling adventure you’d like to share? Get in touch with Matt via email.

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1
March 6, 2012

Guest post: Three Long Five High (a Hells 500 epic)

There’s no shortage of epic challenge rides to be found in the great state of Victoria. Bicycle Network Victoria’s 3 Peaks Challenge springs to mind, as does the Audax Alpine Classic, just to mention a few. But for the few cyclists who aren’t satisfied by riding 250km in a day with plenty of climbing, a greater challenge is required. Introducing Three Long Five High, a one-day challenge ride of epic proportions.

The ride was devised by Andy van Bergen and his Hells 500 crew and features 300km of riding, including five epic climbs: Tawonga Gap (both sides), Mt. Hotham, Mt. Buffalo and Falls Creek. Read Andy’s ride report below.

As I strained to see in the feeble light, tears streamed horizontally across my face. I caught a quick flash in my periphery before feeling a solid THUMP as a bird hit me squarely in the shoulder. What the hell were we thinking descending the inky blackness of Falls Creek with no more than commuting lights?

Knowing the road from previous rides did little to assist – only the faint glow from the road reflectors kept us from overshooting the corners. Eventually the first dusty-blue light tinged the sky, providing a backdrop for the towering ridgeline. With eyes now adjusted, the second half of the descent was a little easier.

With some relief we counted off our entire contingent of riders in Mt. Beauty. It was a sketchy, nervous start to the biggest ride any of the Hells 500 crew had contemplated – 300km with close to 6,000 vertical metres, all in one day.

We got to work on Tawonga. The pace was on, but nothing silly at the start of such a big ride. It felt great ticking the legs over, and there was plenty of chatter among the crew. A kilometre up the road our support crew saw a tree come down, but they were able to man-handle it out of the way before we got there.

Apart from that small incident, the climb was out of the way with little fuss. An hour into the ride, and our two premier hill climbers were just starting their descent of Falls. Their plan was to catch us before Bright later in the day.


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Our riders cast long shadows down the road as the sun started to peak over the ridge. Legs felt loose, the crew was rolling in a perfect paceline, and the temperature was a very enjoyable 16 degrees. It was a fantastic start to the day.

It felt good to look down and see we had already knocked off 70km before Mt. Hotham – a sizable chunk of the day’s goal. We picked up Col – who had set off down the road in front of us – and the six of us started the long climb up to Hotham.

The chatter was up as we rolled through the dappled sunlight at the start of the Mt. Hotham climb. There was a spike in the heart rate coming through The Meg, but we soon settled back into a rhythm, regrouping for the false-flat and a couple of easy, bonus kilometres.

Before we knew it, we were already hitting the steep pinches, starting with CRB Hill. Still in sight of each other, we were spread along the road; no-one wanting to overcommit this early in the ride. Liam and Col were looking strong out the front, and our hard-man John was grinding away in his lowest gear – a standard crank and 25 tooth cog.

The deep, blue sky provided an incredible backdrop to some terrific views. Aside from the long climb snaking up the mountain, there was little other sign of habitation as far as the eye could see. Looking across toward Mt. Feathertop I could see a carpet of bright, yellow wildflowers contrasted against spindly gums bleached white – remnants of the big fires years ago.

We pulled into the cafe at Hotham, everyone testing their legs for signs of fatigue. We joked that the usual tweaks and twinges we associate with climbing all of a sudden become a source of potential concern a third of the way through an epic. Is this tightness in my hamstring going to be an issue later? Will this dull ache in my lower back come back to haunt me?

When it comes down to it, that’s part of the appeal of an endurance ride – it’s about working with the end goal in mind, and nursing your strength appropriately. We had just put down a quick coffee when our star-climbers Dan and Paddy rolled in. They had made up some great time on the Falls descent in the light, and thumped it up Hotham.

The two of them had worked together for the morning, until Paddy wisely sent Dan (the stronger rider) up the road for the final kilometres of the climb. He didn’t want to fall into the trap of hitting the final pinches harder than necessary. When you are riding with an A-grade hill climber it’s an important call to make.

With the whole crew together, we set off down the mountain. It was an incredible feeling – we’d already knocked out 100km, the legs were loose, and here we were whipping back down Hotham in a cool 22 degrees and blue skies, watching our mates tuck into the rolling corners.

Shortly after The Meg, Paddy caught up to a car which suddenly swerved to avoid a big wallaby lying on the road. With nowhere to go at 60km/h he grabbed the bars, clenched everything, and bunny-hopped it.

I came around the same corner and saw it in time, and frantically tried to figure out what the hand signal for ‘dead wallaby’ was so I could alert the support car behind me. Unfortunately my erratic waving didn’t prevent the inevitable.

The poor girls in the car were a bit shaken by the whole thing, so in Harrietville we did what any group of guys would do – we attempted to gross them out and make fun of their driving skills.

A quick head count confirmed we had our full contingent of seven riders, plus Evan who was feeling good and had decided to join us until Buffalo. Rolling turns back along the road to Bright was fantastic, with everyone making a contribution at the front.

We decided not to stop in Bright. The heat started to kick in properly for the first time as we started climbing out of Porepunkah. Clearly we were all keen to hit our rest stop at the Buffalo waterfall as the pace was on. With sweat pouring off we pulled in for a refuel.

I feel sorry for a poor couple that had found a romantic spot on the rocks by the creek, but who were quickly inundated by eight red-faced and salt-stained cyclists wallowing in the creek. We filled up, slapped on some sun protection, and grabbed nutrition for the road.

Each rider set off individually. By now we were 175km into the ride, the first tendrils of fatigue were wrapping around us, and we were facing the daunting prospect of grinding through a furnace for the following 20 clicks.

Sometimes we rode together, sometimes we held a wheel, sometimes there were some words of encouragement, but in general it was everyone’s own climb to deal with. Tyre tracks in the soft road and the popping of tar bubbles were our only companions. In sight of each other but strung-out down the road we eventually hit the plateau, and those last, easier kilometres into Dingo Dell.

The pre-planned route had us heading to the Chalet, but no one was going to be accused of shortening a climb, so pure, bloody-minded stubbornness saw us push on. One by one the riders came in. There were pained smiles but this really was it — we were well and truly over the halfway point, and essentially all we needed to do now was get home. Easy, right?

We looked to Evan, who had made it this far, despite having only signed on to support us in the opening stages of the ride. Surely he could be tempted to head back with us. With the best decision of the day, he agreed to press on.

It’s amazing how you can really hurt up a climb, only to stop for a minute, knock down a coke, and have a 180 degree turnaround on the descent. There were plenty of whoops as we flew back down the mountain.

Dan was in the drops focusing on the road ahead when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a large shadow tracking him. A quick glance and he was eyeballing a giant wedge-tailed eagle, obviously unimpressed with the intrusion on his territory.

Dan put his head down lower and dropped as fast as possible. He knew he could never outrun the eagle, and thankfully the territorial instincts of the bird subsided. Moments later, Paddy clipped a rock and blew out his rear tyre at speed. Skidding and weaving he was able to pull the bike up before shooting over the edge.

For those that have ridden the second section of Buffalo, you’ll know there’s not much to stop you sliding down the mountain should you come off. We pushed on as the support car swung in to assist what would turn out to be the only flat in a combined 2,400km of cycling.

The most experienced rider amongst us was about to have the rookie move of the day. Deciding at Dingo Dell that his thirst was worth two cans of coke, Dan had started to drink one only to find it wasn’t going down well, so he poured both cans into an empty bidon. 15km of course-chip-descent later his bidon exploded, covering him and his bike in sticky black liquid. Still 10km from town and with the temperature in the 30s, Dan would have to wait to clean up.

After a quick top-up in Bright, it wasn’t long before we were climbing back up to the Tawonga Gap. By this stage there was daylight between riders – we could generally see each other, but again it was a case of everyone just having to deal with their own mental and physical state. Things were starting to hurt. We were approaching the 250km mark,  and without even having crested Tawonga, we still had to face the daunting prospect of the final climb up Falls Creek.

That sort of thing really works away at you, and when you are in a dark place, it’s your niggling companion. A mid-climb waterstop was essential in the heat, but we were keen to keep moving so the break was over all too quick. The last two kilometres went on forever, each corner revealing yet another banking corner, but eventually we saw the Tawonga Gap and  we rolled in to the cheers of the support crew.

With the clockwork efficiency of a Formula One pit crew, our meticulously organised support of Tony, Judy, Nic and Tam provided a significant refuel, fresh fruit, and the incredible luxury of a change of kit.

They soon had us back on our way, heading down the broken descent into Mt Beauty. The roadworks did nothing for fried brains having to bunny-hop gravel ditches at speed. But we were through it quick enough, and we soon regrouped for the final push up Falls Creek.

Dan and Col were up the road as the six of us rolled through the roundabout at Mt. Beauty. The kangaroos at the golf course were there to greet us as the first gentle sections of the climb commenced.

Usually I’ll enviously eye off the snaking single track that winds along the road from the mountain bike park, but this time the focus was on not dropping a wheel. Sitting at the back of the pack, I fought once or twice not to fall off the back. As soon as you are mentally broken your speed can drop in seconds, so it was important to keep in contact.

Rather than have the pace dictated, I jumped on the front. I started to feel better and I noticed a tiny gap developing. I thought it might be nice to have a buffer to fall back on later as the suffering would no doubt intensify. Slotting it into the big chain-ring I pushed down each mini descent, knowing the others would just be rolling.

I came into Bogong for the quickest of refuels and to pick up my lights for the final ascent. Col had been patiently waiting for the crew to arrive only to find Paddy and I shooting straight off again (sorry Col). For the next 10km Paddy would be my carrot, dangling 100m up the road.

They say that a sign of breaking is a rider constantly checking over their shoulder, and I had been doing nothing but that since Bogong. Suddenly, far down the road, I could make out a rider in black who had obviously just seen me too. It was on. How long could I hold off?

The fear must have given me a little boost, because I was now within 50m of Paddy and closing. We rounded a corner to the cheers from Paddy’s wife and two sons. Cowbells were ringing, running high-fives were dished out, and colourful chalk writing on the road spelled ‘Go Daddy’ in lemonade-stand letters.

I didn’t see Paddy again – his spirits were soaring. I suddenly felt a strong push in my back. ‘Come on Andy, grab my wheel, we’re so close! Push it! Push it!’. It was Mike, and he was flying. My speed instantly dropped, and with that I was broken, and would be left in my own little world of pain for the remainder of the ride.

The last 4km from the gatehouse seemed to take forever, and by this stage everything was hurting. There was no comfortable sitting position – my back, neck and shoulders hurt; even strange places like toes and fingers were sore. But despite the pain, we were still crawling toward our destination, lit up and visible in the distance.

Pushing through the village we were surprised by the welcome – 15 people screaming, shouting, waving, and clapping us on. We had known all day that we would arrive slightly short of our 300km goal, but that didn’t stop the pain of disappointment when we had to keep riding past the rousing reception, and on to the lake for the final junk miles.

The Garmin numbers were all that mattered at this stage. The climbing was over – we just needed to tick off 8km along the flat road. Adrenaline was pumping as the last gold and pink rays of sunlight bounced off the water. Sucking in the deep breaths, this was for the soul. One by one, as the riders rolled in, we all had a laugh to see that no-one had left anything to chance – we all finished on 301km.

The biggest cheer was for the day’s hero, Evan, who had set out to provide moral support as far as possible, and ended up finishing the whole 300km with us. It’s not often you finish a ride with more riders than you start with.

Trading stories over breakfast the next morning with the rain falling outside it was difficult to recall with accuracy the depths of pain and suffering that we had just been through, other than to apply a general ‘yeah, I was really hurting’.

But the things that do and will stick are riding the Hotham skyline in extraordinary conditions, rolling easy turns on the way into Bright with a tight crew of mates, and the buzz of tearing down the Buffalo descent.

Memory is selective, and I can live with that.

John and Andy would like to welcome Liam, Mike, Dan, Col, Evan, John, and Paddy to the Hells 500 crew. Hells 500 is all about photography, mates, and adventure. To keep in touch with the crew and find out about upcoming rides, visit www.facebook.com/hells500.

Images courtesy of Andy and Tammy van Bergen.

Filed under Guest posts
10
March 1, 2012

Episode 17: Beach Road vs. Mt. Dandenong

Route: Thornbury, Emerald, Olinda, Dandenongs loop
Distance: 183km
Duration: 7 hours 11 minutes

Brendan climbing the Devil's Elbows

Do you ever have one of those days where you wake up and decide not to go riding, only to regret the decision later in the day? Those days leave me with a real sense of guilt — a feeling that sitting on the couch is a waste of time when I could be out getting fit. That feeling is magnified when an event such as the 3 Peaks Challenge is just around the corner.

I was saddled with that feeling for most of Saturday after learning the Donvale Demon had headed out on the 200km-long, official 3 Peaks training ride while I had opted for a sleep-in. In my own defence, it was supposed to be 38 degrees with a 45km/h northerly, making the ride back from Sorrento to Melbourne a less-than-appealing prospect.

But while I felt guilty for not joining the Demon, the feeling didn’t last all that long — Brendan and I got out early the next morning for a ride of almost the same length, albeit with considerably more climbing.

We met at the end of Yarra Boulevard at 7am and jumped on the Koonung Creek Trail and headed toward the Dandenongs. The plan was pretty nebulous — ride out to the ‘Nongs, do some kays and then come home.

Approaching the Dandenongs from the south.

We took the bike track all the way to Springvale Road, past Canterbury Road and it wasn’t until the path had become the Eastlink Trail and we were at Wellington Road that we eventually decided to turn off. It was the first time either of us had ridden the path beyond Boronia Road and it made for some great riding.

We decided to follow Wellington Road all the way up to Emerald and attack the Dandenongs from the south — a first for both of us. While there were a few climbs the closer we got to Emerald, there was nothing long or steep enough to throw us off a good rhythm nor slow our progress too much.

We took a quick break at Emerald before continuing toward Monbulk. From my ride to Inverloch a few weeks earlier I knew that the Emerald-Monbulk Road was roughly half uphill and half downhill. The few kilometres of uphill were pretty mild in comparison to other climbs in the Dandenongs — 2-3% if that — and we were able to maintain a decent clip all the way into Monbulk.

Once in Monbulk we were back on more familiar roads. We rode through town and headed up toward Olinda, climbing The Wall in the process. It’s a strange climb, The Wall. It’s definitely not the most challenging climb you can ride in the Dandenongs, but its steep sections are not to be sneezed at.

Climbing between Emerald and Monbulk.

From Olinda we pushed on toward Sky High and another quick rest break. We got something to eat really quickly, not wanting to give our bodies too much of an opportunity to relax. Of course, it wouldn’t be a visit to Sky High without taking the time to check out the awesome view which, on Sunday, was particularly brilliant.

At this point I decided it was time to do something about my ITB which had been getting progressively more painful since the first 50km or so of the ride. I popped some Nurofen and hoped for the best.

Fed and watered, Brendan and I descended from Sky High and then climbed back toward Olinda before heading toward Ferntree Gully. Our new plan was to take in one more climb before heading home. We descended the Mt. Dandenong Tourist Road toward Ferntree Gully and turned around at Burwood Highway, climbing back up the hill.

The Ferntree Gully end of the Tourist Road isn’t the easiest climb in the Dandenongs — especially when it’s the second or third climb of the day — and Brendan and I took our time and climbed at a comfortable pace. We turned left at Tremont to take in the second half of the Devil’s Elbows climb — definitely the more picturesque half.

The view from Sky High, with Melbourne CBD, Port Phillip Bay and the You Yangs visible.

As we rounded one corner, Brendan stopped suddenly and said “there’s a car down there!”. Sure enough, a few metres below the road in a fern-covered gully, lay an overturned white car. We stopped for a couple moments to see if it was from a recent accident but the lack of tyre tracks seemed to suggest it had been there a while. Still, a strange sight among pristine native bush.

After summitting the Devil’s Elbows climb we continued north along the Tourist Road, the plan being to descend to Montrose before heading home. But when we got to Sassafras we were both still feeling strong and so we headed down Mountain Highway toward The Basin, turned around and climbed back up the 1 in 20.

We certainly didn’t set any records on the climb and while we probably could have gone faster, it was just nice to be able to take our time, enjoy the scenery and get in some serious kays. Incidentally, if you’re looking to head to the 1 in 20 in the near future, you might want to check to see if the road is open. When we were there the road was reduced to one lane (with temporary traffic lights in action) and signs seemed to indicate the road would be closed during the week.

Back at Sassafras we climbed up to Olinda one final time before taking the Tourist Road down to Montrose (a great descent). We followed Canterbury Road to Eastlink where we jumped back on the bike track.

Yours truly at Sky High.

By this point the Nurofen had kicked in and I couldn’t feel any pain in my ITB, making the ride home far more pleasant that it would otherwise have been.

After climbing back toward Springvale Road we relished the opportunity to be on the flat section of the bike track and enjoyed heading homeward at a decent speed. To my delight, I didn’t feel all that tired or fatigued at all, at least until the final 5km of the day. With the temperature hovering in the low 30s (it had been hot for most of the day but, being in the hills, we were sheltered from its greatest impact) I was sweating up a storm and ready for a rest.

I rolled into the driveway having clocked up 183km with nearly 2,600 vertical metres — a solid day in the saddle whichever way you look at it. Sadly my Garming Edge 500 had “lost” 13km and it was only by cross-checking my data with Brendan’s that I was able to work out how far I’d travelled. It appears the battery in my Edge’s cadence/speed sensor might be dying, despite being only a few months old. Either that or there’s something wrong with the unit itself.

While I was certainly tired by the end of the ride, I definitely felt as if I could have kept going. In fact, as I’ve said repeatedly in the past few weeks, I’m feeling the fittest I can ever remember feeling. I’m looking forward to taking on 3 Peaks on Sunday week and seeing how the body holds up.

Second half of the Devil's Elbows climb.

That said, it looks like I’ll be relying on Nurofen to keep the ITB pain at bay, particularly in the latter stages of the ride. I’m planning on taking a week or two off the bike post-3 Peaks to let my ITB heal properly before throwing myself at the Ride Hard to Breathe Easy challenge on Strava.

But, as the great sports cliché goes, I’m just taking it one week at a time.

As always, feel free to come and have a chat on Twitter, Facebook and/or Strava. And of course, comments are always welcome below.

Thanks for reading and please stay safe on the roads.

10 days to go …

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Filed under 3 Peaks Challenge
6
February 22, 2012

Episode 16: the magical Reefton Spur

Route: Warburton, Marysville, Lake Mountain loop
Distance: 140km
Duration: 5 hours 32 minutes

Terrific views from the Reefton Spur.

Over the past nine months it’s been inspiring to see the Donvale Demon rapidly improve as a cyclist. He’s gone from non-cyclist to Around the Bay in a Day finisher to having a fantastic chance of completing the 3 Peaks Challenge in a few weeks time. He’s looking really strong.

Having heard about the Demon’s epic Two Peaks ride from a few weekends ago, I was keen to head out to Warburton and have a crack myself. The Demon himself wasn’t available on Saturday morning so the crew consisted of Brendan, Matt ‘Fletch’ Fletcher and I. We drove out to Warburton and set off toward Reefton on what would be an epic ride through a truly gorgeous part of the world.

I’d heard bits and pieces about the road between Warburton and Lake Mountain and the amazing climb that takes you over the Reefton Spur, not least of all from the Demon himself. But until Saturday, I’d never ridden up that way, nor even driven over the Reefton Spur.

A profile of the Reefton Spur shows about 20km of almost-constant climbing, starting in Reefton and ending at Camberville. And while the road is definitely ‘up’, it’s not that difficult to find a comfortable rhythm and just take in the surroundings.

A combination of great company, stunning views, quiet roads and amazing scenery made the time (and the kilometres) fly by. I probably say this about most of the routes I cycle, but the Reefton Spur truly is an amazing piece of road. Get out there and give it a shot — you won’t regret it.

Reaching Cambarville we took a left turn and headed past the Lake Mountain Alpine Resort turn-off and descended toward Marysville. The plan was to retrace the Demon’s steps (or should that be tyre tracks?) into Marysville before heading back up to the Lake Mountain Alpine Resort. After a quick bite to eat in Marysville we got stuck into the Lake Mountain climb.

Climbing toward Lake Mountain from Camberville.

The first 4km of the climb are undeniably steep but once you get over that initial hurdle, the rest of the climb is pretty straightforward. Fletch, Brendan and I decided we’d all ride at our own pace and regroup at the resort. As I worked through the initial steep section I found myself with a bit of a gap over the others — a gap I expected to disappear once the road flattened off somewhat. As you might remember from a previous instalment, I have real trouble keeping up with Fletch when the road flattens out.

But the catch never came and I found myself riding alone for the next hour-and-a-bit. I didn’t feel as if I was pushing terribly hard, but when I arrived at the Lake Mountain Alpine Resort, I had taken 14 minutes off my previous best — a time of 1 hour 11 minutes.

This is probably more indicative of a slow previous best rather than any good turn of speed. That said, this is the strongest I’ve ever felt on the bike and it’s great to be seeing such results. Fletch and Brendan arrived a little while later, and the three of us headed up to the new resort centre to grab a bite to eat.

After a short break we got back on the road, all of us looking forward to the chance to spend some time descending. We’d ridden 80km by that point and climbed 2,300 vertical metres.

More climbing on the way toward Lake Mountain

This was my first long ride without Nurofen since my ITB flared up a few weeks ago and it felt good to be riding without needing drugs to get me through. Strangely though, the ITB is more painful on descents than it is on the climbs (higher cadence vs. lower cadence perhaps?) and the descent from Lake Mountain turned out to be a pretty painful experience.

That said, it was great to be heading downhill and after a short climb back toward Cambarville (the gloriously named ‘Deliverance climb!’ on Strava) it was back to descending. If I thought the climb up the Reefton Spur was great (which it was) then the descent was on a whole ‘nother level of awesome. There were a couple of times I thought to myself ‘this is the best descent I’ve ever done’. I don’t know if that was the adrenaline talking but it was certainly an amazing hour or so, heading back toward Warburton.

As we were getting toward the bottom of the Reefton Spur I had one of the stranger experiences I’ve ever had on a bike. We’d been followed for a couple of kilometres by a police car that was giving us plenty of space and as we rounded a corner a little while later we came up behind a slow-moving ambulance. For a couple of kilometres we enjoyed our own emergency services escort, sandwiched between an ambulance and police car.

After a while, the ambulance pulled over to the side of the road allowing us to pass, and the three of us led the ambulance and police car down the mountain.

Climbing Lake Mountain from the Marysville side.

After 120km of riding we stopped at one of the terrific vantage points to get some photos of the valleys and mountains in the distance. By this point my ITB had become really painful and I decided to take some Nurofen to get me through the final 20km.

For the whole day I’d been riding with the expectation that I’d need to save some energy for an ascent of Mt. Donna Buang. After all, the Donvale Demon had ridden the same route the previous week, solo, and had finished the day with a Donna climb. Surely the three of us, riding together, could drag ourselves up Donna?

Having left something in the tank for Donna I was still feeling pretty fresh when we got back to Warburton. The combination of stretching at our photo stop and the Nurofen also meant I had no serious ITB pain to contend with.

In the end we decided it was probably best to leave Donna for another day, given it was already 5.30pm and a climb of Donna would see us back in Warburton at 7.30pm, at the earliest. We headed back to the car, stuck the bikes on the bike rack and drove back to Melbourne.

Even without the Donna climb to cap things off, it was a fantastic day on the bike. 140 solid kilometres with over 2,600 vertical metres.

Descending Lake Mountain; Fletch on the left, Brendan on the right.

So January and February have flown by and March is just about upon us. It’s less than three weeks until the Donvale Demon, Brendan, Fletch and I line up at Falls Creek and attempt the 3 Peaks Challenge. I know I’m a little apprehensive about the day, despite being the fittest I’ve ever been. I can imagine the others are a little nervous too.

There’s an official 3 Peaks training ride this Saturday morning that leaves from St. Kilda and goes to Sorrento via Arthurs Seat and back. It’s a 200km day and one that I’m keen to head along to. Hopefully the Demon, Fletch and Brendan will be there too. In the meantime I’ll be keeping up the stretches and strengthening exercises and hoping my ITB continues to improve.

As always, feel free to come and have a chat on Twitter, Facebook and/or Strava. And of course, comments are always welcome below.

Thanks for reading and be sure to stay safe on the roads.

17 days to go …

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Filed under 3 Peaks Challenge
12