Regrowth in Marysville

I was up and packed far earlier than normal and on the road for our shortest day. I have put this down -mainly- to the significant lack of rainfall the day before. A truely remarkable and smile inducing 0mm! Although this happy circumstance was met with the appearance of someting else..dew. Nevertheless, with dry clothes and a lighter bag it was much easier to get myself together.

I also made breakfast a light affair, given the minute (49km) distance to cover for the day. The turnaround in my psyche is amazing. I used to consider a 60km event an arduous challenge and now I am looking forward to the 3 peaks challenge in March (>200 km in a day over 3 mountains).

The ride today was tres enjoyable. i was out before most of the schools -a nice change- and was trying to perfect my skills riding as part of a pack. Alas, each time it was my turn to lead I accidentally left the others behind. I need to work on some consistency and lose the 'chase and overtake, chase and overtake' mentality.

It was incredible to see the seedlings (or new branches, not sure which) of the old burn out gums regrowing after Black Saturday. Unfortunately my camera battery died about 4 days ago and my phone isn't good enough to get right up close to show you what I am talking about. But the new growth has wrapped itself up around the burnt out trees, in most cases all the way to the top, and it is amazing to see the bush regrowing faster than the community inside it.

It would have been terrifying to have been there at the time, worse than terrifying actually. Ranges on all sides ablaze with nowhere for you to go and flames moving faster than cars.

Riding across the finish line was a massive rush of adrenaline. The town turned out to cheer us through and the realisation that I had actually done it. You realise why my 4999 co-riders do it year in, year out. To set yourself a goal and achieve it. After 8 days of butt busting hills, unforgiving descents, rain, mud, people tripping over your tent in the middle of thhe night. To cross that line and know you have beaten your mind, and what you previously thought to be the limitations of your own body, it's too good for words. I did have about a 20 minute long period where all I could think was 'Now What Should I Do??' with my legs ready to carry me at least another 30 or 40k!

So the question is...what next???

It's the rest day!

Wow, exhausted! It's the rest day and I'm finding it very hard to get moving this morning. Lying on my new blowup mattress is just so incredibly comfortable and seems to cause my legs no pain.

Actually, the legs actually haven't been complaining for the last two days. Admittedly there's been a lot of flat, but that will change tomorrow were not only do we have a new killer hill but we have to do more than 100k's!

Today i am just taking it easy, doing some maintenance and maybe some canoeing. 2 days ago, just as I was contemplating all the bike breakdowns on the side of the road and why it had not yet happened to me a spoke on the back wheel went CLANG! I should never have thought the thought. A great guy named Peter got me back on the road by compensating with the other spokes. It was all fixed up that evening by the mechanics but last night on my way into town the same thing happened on my front wheel! Argh!

So today will be fixing that and moving slowly...for a change.

Good morning galahs on Day 3

I managed to pack up my things, admittedly rather slowly yesterday morning, and navigated the treacherous mud to get my breakfast. Thr tent fared the night very well but the bos was slow to get going.

Packing up was only the first chore though, with a much anticipated hill climb and busier roads (day 1 everyone was staggered up a bit more).

The effect of the rain was not all that evident on the road until much later but the hill was evident. Rumour indicated that for the most part it was a 6 degree climb and you could feel it in the legs, even if you didn't know that. however lunch was on the other side of it. for me, i expected some great views, a great downhill and sense of achievement.

There were some other though that had forgotten the point though as they used their energy reserves to push their bikes up the hill. Heads down, mind defeated... it's slower, less efficient and this isn't The Great Vic 'I Pushed my bike for 600kms'!

The downhill after lunch made it all worth it with some reaches speeds of 74kph if rumours are to be believed. Alas speed is the enemy of the sane and someone inevitably came off, with sirens and lights of police and ambulance being required.

But I made it in one piece, and here I go again, on my birthday, ready to attack Murchison!

PS not quite ready - still need to pack, collapse tent, eat breakfast ad take some panadol foe the saddle sores!

I think i was in a cyclone

I'm scared to look outside and see how much rain fell last night! i've also been holding it since 1030 last night because I didn't want to leave.

Something I overheard from my tent neighbours, "argh! My gloves are wet!", "mate, you're an idiot, that's the lest of our worries"

Today's ride has been extended for 6 km's and we will climb more than 600m's in elevation. Bring it on.

Day 1 of the Great Vic

It was a two lane street, which I suppose is fairly atypical for this kind of place. Humid but cool and early in the morning after a big rain, you could hear the lorikeets starting up their familiar screech. the trees on the northern side of the road were all eucalyptus, twisted but strong from their years. Years that were well established at the base of their trunks; scarred as they have been by the Australian bush. On the other side they were misleading, at first appearing like smalls shrubs, but really they are just babies, hiding in the shadow of their parents with a lean away from the road.

What is typical is the sound. Along with the unseen lorikeets you could hear that ever present hum of an idling truck's engine at the servo, with cars rushing by on the highway. Leading down the side road a Give Way sign was framed by two 60's and a Hilux coming the other way.

I stood in the middle of the road, taking it in. Looking forward to a week in the bush.

Now, I'm lying in my tent listening to the pelting of rain, the bass of the fake U2 band has ended and people are heading back to their abodes in this insane tent city. We've built it from a sheep paddock, the softness I feel below my buttocks is really just Roo Poo.

It was a beautiful day, firstly riding in the sun, enjoying the serenity of being on holiday, alone (with 4999 strangers). I looked out over the wheatfields as I rode (I won't pretend to know what they really were, but shell refer to everything as a wheat field). Along their edges native trees remained, or had been allowed to grow, but sometimes only in a comically designed pattern, or a pattern of no design. Some tall and others skinny, and yet others doing a lean-to resemblant of a pushup. Their shapes are so familiar but I could stare all day, even at those that stand as burnt out husks without a leaf, but a testament to endurance.

Occaisionally a fellow rider would remind me I wasn't alone, but for the most part, being here with no seatbelt, windscreen, timeline or expectations gave me such a sense of peace from a busy overactive world.

Day 1 is done, as I rest in Dookie, so tomorrow let the road take me to Euroa!!!