Last weekend hundreds of cyclists descended on the alpine town of Bright for one of Victoria’s most popular and most prestigious amateur bike races — the Tour of Bright. While most of the attention was focused on men’s and women’s A grade, there’s far more to the Tour of Bright than the pointy end of the top grades.
In this guest post Josh Goodall documents the lead-up to his first Tour of Bright and how the weekend eventually unfolded.
It seems like an age since the hammer dropped. It’s warm, it’s humid. My legs are on fire, my lungs are raw. The mountain goats on the front hardly seem to be breaking a sweat, but around me, one by one, people are cracking, dropping wheels, losing contact.
I’m still with the bunch but starting to feel light-headed. I think I’m going to be sick. And we’re only halfway round and halfway up the first climb of the first stage of the 2012 Tour of Bright. But, it’s all happening exactly according to plan.
Rewind. How did I get here?
David Heatley, head coach at Cycling-Inform put the idea in my head in late 2011. In conversation he’d innocently suggested ‘why don’t you enter the Tour of Bright?’ At the time I thought he was joking, and perhaps he was: I was 108kg at the time; way too heavy. Or perhaps David was talking to someone else and I misheard.
But it was too late — the seed was planted and it sprouted and grew, and in early 2012 I decided it was going to happen.
The Tour of Bright is a popular event and it was clear there’d be a sprint just to enter. In theory entries open at noon three months in advance, but Cycling Victoria’s website isn’t the most reliable so I was checking it regularly.
At 11:57am precisely the bip-bip of an SMS alerted me. I was ready to go and within seconds I was signed up for men’s C grade. And then I started to panic – what had I done?
I gave David a call, since this was all his fault, and got him on board as my coach. We had 12 weeks to get me into shape – if not to do well, then at least to finish with a general classification time that wasn’t a total embarrassment. I hired a PowerTap training wheel and commissioned one to keep while David wrote my training program.
Stage 1: The Gaps Loop
Flash forward, back to the race. I glance at my Garmin and do a quick calculation: if I can keep this up for two more minutes we’ll be done. My strategy for stage 1 was simple: get over Rosewhite Gap with the bunch, then try to stick with them to the Tawonga feed zone, after which we’re just uphill to the finish.
Today is warm and muggy. It’s 30°C and scattered showers in the area are making for uncomfortable conditions. It’s hard to stay hydrated when the bunch is surging hard every few minutes, and I heard about a crash early on so I’ve spent the past hour just trying to stay out of trouble near the front.
We’d shot out of Bright at a high clip – if I was expecting a neutral start, we didn’t get one. From the gun it was 40km/h and the speedo touched 50km/h before we were out of town. Lots of surges, lots of jostling for position. ‘If you’re not going forward, you’re going backwards’, as David says.
I think some of these guys have been racing too many crits – they’re all elbows and shouting. Still, among the bunch I’ve identified enough riders that seem to know what they’re doing. The Canberra Vikings and the Saint Cloud guys seem to be working well and I try to stick near them as much as possible. But I definitely haven’t had enough to drink.
I tell my lungs to keep it up. I keep the legs turning; the burn feels hard and heavy. If I give them a moment’s pause I know the lactate balance will implode and they’ll never restart. My heart rate ramps up, deep into the red zone. But two minutes later, merciful Zeus! – we are over Rosewhite Gap and I am still with the bunch.
I’ve put in the biggest 10 minute effort of my life. I know I’ll pay later but right now I also know that all the pre-dawn training rides and obsessive calorie counting have been worth it. It’s one of the best moments I’ve had on the bike, but there is no time to enjoy it – we’re descending and I have to keep up!
Coming down Rosewhite was … interesting. There are some people who clearly need to practise their lines. Nonetheless I make it safely to the right-hander and the undulations towards Tawonga.
Lots of attacks and surges come after but I hold on, each time telling myself ‘if I’m hurting, everyone else is hurting too, they’ll back off soon, just keep going!’ Still, by the time we reach the feed zone I’m dehydrated and cramping. I slow right up to grab water bottles, sculling most of one on the spot to wash down a gel. I lose contact with the main group but it doesn’t matter now: we’re at the base of the final climb.
I don’t have much left in the tank but somehow I scrape in a personal best effort climbing Tawonga Gap. I’m surprised how many riders I pass on the way up. But it’s even warmer than it had been earlier, I’m feeling horribly nauseous and I can’t eat anything more.
But the legs keep turning until the hilltop finish looms and oh my word, my lovely wife is there shouting me home delightedly. I have completed stage 1 of the Tour of Bright in 2 hours 55 minutes, 5 minutes faster than I expected. I sit down, utterly smashed, shotgun my recovery musette and don’t get up for 10 minutes.
I am 59th on the general classification.
The Strava file for Josh’s ride in stage 1 can be found here.
Stage 2: Individual time trial
It’s later in the same day and I’m warming up for the individual time trial, using David Heatley’s tent, his Kurt Kinetic trainer and a time trial bike borrowed from a very kind friend. David asks, concerned, ‘Have you had enough hydration?’ It’s still warm and the sweat is beading out all over me, and my answer of ‘it’s … adequate’ sounds hollow. And so it proves.
I arrive at the start line with legs primed, and the friendly and efficient commissaires slot me neatly into the launch sequence and hold my saddle. The Tour of Bright’s ITT is done pro style, with a ramp and a digital countdown. The adrenaline rises rapidly as you come up to the line; it’s like being on stage and suddenly the spotlight is on you! 3 … 2 … 1, a whispered ‘good luck’ from my launch controller and I’m off, my heart rate rising rapidly, settling into the gear and my, er, interpretation of an aero position.
This is the first opportunity in hours I’ve had to check in with myself. All the bustle of recovering from stage 1, prepping equipment, warming up and the start means I’ve hardly had a moment’s pause. But now, suddenly, I’m on the road, all alone with just my thoughts and my legs for company. And this is the point where all the stress and fatigue from the morning comes rushing in and I realise my recovery has been underdone.
The first hill rises up. I shift gears in the wrong direction and have to change back in a hurry. This is the trouble with being a time trial newbie: you screw up on the simple mechanical stuff. I’m looking down at my power numbers, and they’re okay but below what I’m capable of. And that’s the story of the first half of the TT: my power seems off.
I know, I’m just knackered from stage 1, but I’m under threshold when I want to be slightly above. Up one of the hills I’m passed by a very small, very light person. I decide I shall have my revenge on the way back.
I do the turnaround really badly. Actually, that’s a lie. I do it slowly to rest my legs. I’m only cheating myself, and I know it. I take more than a minute to ramp back up, but going back I’m really flying. I get in a good flat-back tuck, I start to feel more of a rhythm happening, and I get my revenge and pass Mr Mountain Goat. Phew!
But with only a few kilometres remaining I feel a familiar and unwelcome twinge in my hamstrings. It’s still warm, and I’ve lost even more sweat in the past half hour; my hamstrings are on the brink of cramping.
I do something I’d hoped to avoid and ease up to take a drink and shake out the legs, losing many seconds in the process. Eventually — it seems like an aeon — the cramps pass and the 1km sign looms. I turn the cranks harder; it’s time to dump all the remaining energy out, and I cross the line knowing there was nothing left … at least not today!
My time? 25 minutes 30.40 seconds — half a minute faster than my goal. My average power is definitely down but I’ve still gone 2.5 minutes faster than on my reconnaissance effort from 4 weeks ago.
All that and my GC position remains unchanged — still 59th!
I’ve learned my lesson. I limp back to the rental unit where my wife plies me with food and fluid and this time I try to get it all down. Tomorrow we are climbing Mt. Hotham.
The Strava file for Josh’s ride in stage 2 can be found here.
Stage 3: Mt. Hotham
Mt Hotham is my favourite climb of them all. I have ridden it many times and never failed to enjoy the sense of achievement and the stunning views at the crest of the summit road. When my hair turns white and I’m finally gone, please scatter my ashes up there. Although preferably with a view along the Razorback to Feathertop, not towards the water treatment plant, thanks.
Today, on the start line, I am less apprehensive than before. I know, now, that I can keep with this bunch. I had a good sleep and the right breakfast and the weather is mild. During the briefing I eye up the bunch, pick out the best people to roll turns with. The start is gentle this time, fast later.
Again there are many attacks and surges but I have no trouble holding on until Harrietville. This is where the real contenders attack, and the rest of us go into Gran Fondo mode; here now for the sport but not the win.
I settle in to climb with a friendly group and work with them … at least I do until the Meg where they drop back and I’m on my own for a while. I’m hoping the main bunch of Masters 4/5 will catch me, for a free ride through the false-flat, but that only happens near the water zone at the Buckland Gate after which it doesn’t matter anymore.
Even CRB Hill and the Diamantina and the summit road seem easy today. I get chatting to fellow travellers and I’m just enjoying the sunshine and loving the pace and the work all the way to the top.
The first time I climbed Mt Hotham my time was 3 hours 30 minutes. Today I am 25kg lighter, much, much stronger and I’ve set a new personal best: 1 hour 48 minutes. No, not stellar by Tour of Bright standards, but my GC position slips by only one notch.
Today even the descent of Hotham is a treat; a joy. Traffic is light and I’m descending my favourite mountain on a fast, stiff bike in sunny weather. It’s my final reward for three months of hard training and massive weight loss.
The Strava file for Josh’s ride in stage 3 can be found here.
My final result? Out of 92 starters in men’s C grade at the 2012 Tour of Bright, I finish 60th. For some, that would be a catastrophe. Not for me. My first road race was only a few months ago. This feels like a triumph.
Would I race it again? You bet. The Alpine Cycling Club puts on a terrific event and I’m not surprised the Tour of Bright sells out instantly. Yet it still has an intimate, club-racing feel; it just happens to be hard-fought and run on some of the most majestic roads in the state.
Next year, due to the oversubscription, there’ll be more structured entry conditions that really just cement its position as our top amateur race; a grand tour for the rest of us.
Have you got a climbing-related cycling story you’d like to share? Maybe you just rode your first mountain on the weekend? Or maybe you’re on holidays in the French Alps, climbing every col in sight. Either way, we’re keen to hear from you. Please get in touch with Matt via email.
19 Replies to “Guest post: Tour of Bright 2012”
Great write up! Thoroughly enjoyed the journey via this read, and will be up there this year spectating.
Well done Josh, great effort!
Fantastic work Josh, well done, and great write-up! A really inspiring read particularly as I am considering giving the TOB a crack next year! See you at one of the 7 Peaks rides!
This is what I come to the Climbing Cyclist for! Stories from people who are bit more like me, rather than the usual A Grade race reports.
Excellent work Josh, inspiring stuff!
Well done, Josh. Top effort!
Thanks Matt & Josh for sharing, a great account of what it is like to get your head into the correct space as well as the basics of getting it wrong with hydration.
Indeed, Geoff! The message here is Pay Attention To What Your Coach* Is Saying.
* and/or wife, teammate etc
Great write-up Josh. I saw you roll down the ramp at the TT. I was in Bright soaking in the atmosphere and doing lots of non-competitive riding. Good luck for next year.
Nice account, and nice to put a voice and a story to a jersey in the bunch!
There was indeed a fairly spectacular crash further back in the bunch, on which there are several perspectives in the comments thread at CyclingTips. A mate of mine had his Tour ended by it, though luckily he wasn’t seriously injured. There were guys coming down everywhere, and more than one somersaulting through the air. Put it down to over-excitedness in the bunch.
The conditions for the Tawonga Gap climb were amongst the most oppressive I’ve ever raced in. No, scratch that, they were the most oppressive I’ve ever raced in.
Roll on 2013 and trying to qualify! Look forward to some big fields in State opens.
I was the guy you rode with up CRB and Diamantina. Great write up and a similar story to my own. It really is a great event and the Alpine Cycling Club (of which I’m a member) do a massive amount of work in the background to make it work. Big thankyou to Aaron Smith and all the ACC volunteers for making it what it is.
See you next year (maybe???)
Thanks Graham! It was great to have company on for the final climbs (I call them the “three insults”). If I can, I’ll be back next year – hopefully I’ll be able to secure a place through the new state open qualifying series, if not there’s always the lottery…
What can I say ……I have never been so proud of my son. He has achieved something physical which I guess none of the family would have thought possible. Next year? I reckon he’ll see his position well up. I know from my youth – we lived close to the Welsh hills and I rode a Freddie Grub 531 meteor (I am 67!!!) just how tough climbs can be …….brilliant achievement.
Fantastic write-up and truly motivational. I am 110kg, and have just bought a road bike after 15yrs out of the sport. I am inspired enough to follow your example and aim for this event myself next year!! Thanks for the push!
All I can say, Glenn, is go for it! It’d be smart to set some milestone goals along the way, the Tour of Bright is a tough event to complete, in fact tough even to train for, and I recommend you track your fitness by entering a few club or state open road races and some mass-start endurance events. Heck, how about coming along on one of the Climbing Cyclist/Hells 500 “Seven Peaks Domestique” series?
Here’s another suggestion, enter Amy’s Gran Fondo next year; if you complete it in 3.5 hours or better, you’re at the same level I was in early September, following which most weeks saw training volumes over 400km with weight loss averaging 1kg/week. That’s a hard ask even with a coach & a supportive S.O. – and handling all that was at the limit of my organisational ability and mental toughness, so don’t be upset if you decide to postpone, the Tour of Bright will be still be there in 2014 too!
My coach, David, also runs his Bright Boot Camp in them hills twice a year and it’s both rewarding and fun and suitable for most ability levels; for me, this year, it was the final preparation for the Tour. I recommend that or something like it.
Whatever you do, stay inspired!
It’s going to be difficult to “aim for” TOB next year as a new rider.
The event sold out within minutes of entries going online, months before the event, as Josh noted. So next year they’ve radically changed the entry system, as discussed here. Basically, you have to qualify either through 2012 TOB results, or results in 2013 state opens, or you go into a lottery.
But don’t let that discourage you. There are plenty of other fun and very challenging club and state races on the calendar. My personal favourite is actually not TOB, but the Stratford-Dargo Classic, which is held a couple of weeks beforehand. The finishing climb of that race makes Hotham look easy! The Sam Miranda race weekend is also excellent (it has the fringe benefit of starting and finishing at a winery with very nice food, too).
More serious than I thought – Even 60th place in C grade has a dedicated TimeTrial bike.
Great write up of what seems like an awesome event.
Thanks Glenn! I did want to do things as properly as I could, to get the full range of experience. The TT bike I used was borrowed from a friend and I only had a few scattered days to become familiar with it, but it definitely makes a difference.
Awesome post! Really inspiring as I am a cyclist over 100kg mark!!! Nice work and congrats on your great result.
Fantastic insight – thanks so much Josh. Great work setting yourself such an awesome goal and achieving it in style. Well done!