A few days ago, Richard bestowed upon me two tiny spongy earplugs
– which proved to be my most important possession on the trip. Snoring is a
bitch. And Wanaka was the one place where all 6 of us stayed in the same room.
Shawn takes the prize as the only one who didn’t snore. 5 of the 6 of us in
Wanaka were stirring Sauron of Mordor with our snoring. I woke midway through
the night for a nature call and took out the ear plugs (because I must have
made the odd assumption that I could not pee with ear plugs in). I counted 4
different, and LOAD snorers – Santo slept silently.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Day 6 – Damn you weather. Damn you! (shaking fist at the sky).
Jack Daniels Remaining: 490mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 36kms
Rain. Wind. More rain. More wind.
Last time I went up Haast pass it was raining so hard it
could have put the fires of Hell (or Mordor) out. This time was no different.
Only this time, the hell storm of rain and wind did not end once we “passed the
pass” and entered Otago. We stopped by a lake for some sightseeing. Had we
chosen to get out and ride here, we would have had a tail wind sure, but it was
so brutal it would have been unsafe and being blown into oncoming traffic was a
serious risk. So grumpily we barreled back into the bang bus.
It was a real shame we didn’t ride today. Of all the
potential riding, Haast pass was the feather I wanted in my cap. It’s a
stunning journey in a car, so a bike would have been even better – with the
added satisfaction of yet another climb conquered. Apart from a few stop-offs
to photograph waterfalls and lakes, it was a fairly benign journey.
A few happy snaps along the way which I believe exacerbate the stunningly stunning scenery. Thankfully no one produced the tool accessory of the decade - the selfie stick. Well played boys.
Wanaka was not the picture of beauty when we arrived either – those that hadn’t been took some photos of the lake. I sussed out some accommodation and did what I do best before beer o’clock – drink coffee.
Oooooh. I feel a pano shot coming on.. here it comes...
BAM!
We stayed at the Youth Hostel. This was the only time we all
stayed in the same room (a 6 birth dorm with kitchenette and bathroom). I was
pretty chuffed with myself, as in talking to the lady at the counter, we were
awarded the “low carb” rate for our efforts in riding so the room cost just $22
each rather than $32, (hey a win is a win and a little part of me likes to
think it was my dashing good looks and fluttering eyelids that helped get the
lower rate). The day was all in all pretty lazy with pub grub late lunch. We
gave the 3 or 4 bottles of spirits we had with us a nudge and dined on finger
food back in the room for breakfast. A bit of reading, sleeping, walking,
hanging out, chatting etc….
The boys!
A few happy snaps along the way which I believe exacerbate the stunningly stunning scenery. Thankfully no one produced the tool accessory of the decade - the selfie stick. Well played boys.
Wanaka was not the picture of beauty when we arrived either – those that hadn’t been took some photos of the lake. I sussed out some accommodation and did what I do best before beer o’clock – drink coffee.
Oooooh. I feel a pano shot coming on.. here it comes...
BAM!
The boys!
Day 5 - Captain Stupid
Jack Daniels Remaining: 690mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 101kmI had a lot of ideas for the title of today’s entry, because it would be the most successful day of riding for me; 100km’s including the hills in reverse from Franz Josef to Fox on our way to Haast.
Alas, the award for Captain Stupid for this trip went to
yours truly. In my haste to depart this morning and get a gap on the boys (as they
would inevitably catch me), I made one “small” oversight. About 15kms up the
road my phone was beeping and ringing. As it was a local NZ SIM, that only a
handful of people had I figured it was important. It was Shawn; “Do you have
the van key”. I was quite positive I gave it to Paul, but to be sure, I emptied
the contents of my jersey pockets on the side of the road, somewhere between
Franz Josef and Fox. No key. Phone rang again. “We found it”. And the moment
Shawn asked if I remember where I hung the key it immediately came back to me –
the rubber stopper on the tail gate of the van. Shit bloody shit shit I thought
– how did I forget that. Probably rightfully so, the boys carried and air of
distrust with them for the next few days, double checking who had the key
(looking in my direction).
Anyhow, back to the ride. Shawn and Richard passed me not
far past Fox Glacier. From there, the Km’s ticked over 40, 50, 60, 70… No van.
No Alex. I was growing a bit worried. This was a VERY isolated part of the trip
with no phone reception, towns or stops. I pulled up at a turnoff to a café,
but was torn. If I went into the café, it was likely the van (and Alex) would
pass me and not know it. The problem is, our destination (I thought) was Haast
– 140km’s from Franz Josef and a solid 30kms longer than I’d ever really ridden
in one stint before. So I was unsure whether to stop and wait or push on. This was coupled also with a repeating voice in my head about whether we had actually
agreed to re-group in a tiny village called Mahitahi (midway – which I had already
overshot). There had been discussion on this the previous evening.
I decided to push on
the Haast. About 100 metres down the road, a Magpie?! Attacked me (I didn’t
think there were any in this country!). Persistent little bugger too. He (or
she) played let’s piss off Justin for about 300 metres before realising this genuine
threat to its chicks was gone (yes I am known to climb up trees and steal magpie chicks; I’m seeking therapy for it, I swear). Ironically, not much later Alex caught
me, then then Van. Alex’s slowness was explained by a broken rear spoke (after
a Km walk a nice touring couple picked him up and got him to Fox, where he
borrowed Paul’s wheel for the rest of the journey). The van caught me at 92kms
– and I asked them to hold back so I could do 100kms (I didn’t trust myself
doing 140km’s with the van in front of me and no way of communicating with
them.
…A mere 1km downs the road, an unscheduled stop. Out of the
corner of my eye I noticed something on the side of the road. I turned round
and as I suspected, it was a tiny Robin (native one I assume). It didn’t look
right and it obviously wasn’t when I lent down and picked it up. It sat quietly on my finger. I suspected it got hit by a car (but showed no signs of
injury). I shook my finger and it flew off... but landed in the middle of the
road. This isn’t good, I thought. I quickly assessed the situation. I was miles
from anyway. I did have the van not far behind me, but I was familiar with
Haast – they are lucky to have a pub, let alone a vet of some kind. I admit, I
considered “quick end” options for the little fella (no need to elaborate).
However, I picked it up once more and gave my finger another shake to encourage
it to take off – success. It flew (fairly well it seemed) to a nearby branch.
This time out of my reach, but I was content it would be ok. I departed and a
little further down the road realised my decision was probably a good one. I was in new Zealand and with ground dwelling predators near
non-existent, it would have far longer to recover in NZ than in Australia – the
land of snakes, spiders, feral cats, foxes and just about everything else that
would choose a helpless winded creature that weighs less than a fart a suitable
meal.
Not long after the van caught me (almost exactly at the
100km mark) and the rest of the trip was
spent supporting Alex on his way to Haast.
What better way to finish a ride.. NZ West Coast and a Tui....
Haast was every bit as quiet as I remembered (I don’t think
the boys were terribly impressed). We mulled over the idea of pushing on, but
decided against as it would mean we would not get to ride up the pass tomorrow,
and arrival in Wanaka would have been rather late. It turned out to be one of
the better evenings together. We had the motel virtually to ourselves (despite
being advised it was “fishing season and expect Haast to be busy”. Two or three
of the boys chose to make this their big night and stayed up till 3am –
presumably just to given the ample supply of spirits with us a nudge…
The bang bus, waiting patiently outside the motel room while
its passengers rested...
Haast, in all its "going off" glory..
Every trip has a theme song. Ours I think was this little number from Rammstein – Du Hast (for obvious reasons). Take a moment, to get yourself a herbal tea, get on your comfy pillow and listen to its peaceful harmony…
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Day 4 - Glacier Country
Jack Daniels Remaining: 750mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 36kms
This is a fantastic part of New Zealand and I am glad we
chose to spend 2 nights in Franz Josef. For this "kind of" rest day, we all found out various activities
to do – even the ever-indecisive Saunders eventually sorted his day. Base camp
for the two days was the Franz Josef YHA.
Shawn, Richard and Paul decided to ride to Fox Glacier and
back (about 55kms round trip). I spent the morning with Alex and Sam having
coffee/breakfast, and then attempted to fix my bike (I had also lost the use of my front
gears the previous day). While I do know a bit about bike maintenance,
sometimes it would pay if I took a moment to step back and assess the problem.
I hastily removed and attempted to tighten the derailleur cable, but then
discovered two things – one was the cable had become detached from the shifter (and I had no idea how to re-attach it), the second more embarrassing issue, was realising there was nothing wrong with my gears – it was in fact that my cranks were not aligned;
my on the fly fix it job yesterday was not quite right. I corrected the issue
(spare part thanks to Santo), but was unable to fix the cable.
I decided to head to Fox with Alex and Sam who booked a heli-hike on Fox Glacier – the bike was good enough to ride, so I loaded it up
with the expectation of riding back from Fox to Franz Josef. Upon arriving at Lake Matheson (for viewing Mt Cook), I realised I had “been here, done this”
before, so jumped on the bike right away, while the weather was good.
The ride from Fox to Franz Josef was awesome, with lots of
challenging hills but rewarding descents. Check out the profile and the ride:
And some happy snaps...
Approaching Fox Glacier from Lake Matheson (cloud on the mountains in NZ, how different):
Decisions, decisions:
The spectacular views looking back towards Lake Matheson, while climbing:
With a couple of little deviations, I turned it into a 36km
ride, including a 3km “cyclo-cross” up to Franz Josef Glacier, which gave me an
appreciation of the micro-climates of the area. I got properly drenched at the
Glacier, but upon returning back to the main road, I noted it was bone dry.
The crew split for dinner tonight with Richard, Shawn and
Paul eating in, and the rest of us giving another restaurant – Alice May – a
try. Got to say, one of the best roast pork meals I have ever had in my life!
Though, on inquiring about the name, we were directed to the somewhat sombre story in the menu that it was named in honour of a local lady, who was the
centre of women’s rights for a while, when she shot her boyfriend for refusing
to marry her when their baby was born still-born. She became the centre of
women’s rights and charges against her were dropped (remember that New Zealand
was the first country in the world to afford women the right to vote). Her
actions were obviously out of grief and despair as she did attempt to kill
herself at the same time.
Like of the little hobbits we were, the six us re-convened
for second dinner later that evening and a night cap. Apparently Richard, after
riding every day (and to and from Fox Glacier), had excess energy (and no-dose)
to burn. So here he is he head banging and violently flailing one hand.
(Slow shutter speed and no flash?… I don’t know what you are
talking about…)
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Day 3 - Well Tickle me Hocker!
Jack Daniels Remaining: 860mls
Km's covered: 50km
The journey today would take us from Arthur's Pass on an
undulating ride to the West Coast and down to Hokitika. Upon rising on the 3rd
day, the weather again proved to be an unknown quantity. It was raining, it
even hailed and I think sleeted a little. However, there was no wind (yet) so
in my book that was good enough. I kitted up, as did Alex and the eternal
freaks of nature Richard and Shawn. Paul would be Sam’s “Bang bus buddy” today
and they would depart after us and play what became the daily ritual of the
bang bus leaving after the riders and eventually catching them to pick up those
who were done for the day. Off we set. The first 10kms or so was fairly
standard mountain climbing. Enjoyable – even with the rain and hail (thanks Paul
for the loaner of your spray jacket). We then came across the gradient 16%
decent which was a little dicey, including an viaduct very high over the river
which had head-wind, side-wind, tail-wind and up-wind. It was freakish and a
little scary being blown around. We passed under tunnels reminiscent of those
on the Tour de France. This was possible the one of the very few moments where
my mere $1,000 cyclo-cross bike being superior to the boys $4000+ road bikes –
disc brakes on a wet, windy, 16% decent are a real winner. The road eventually
flattened out, and became following the meandering <xx> river. Km’s
passed by pretty well, until I felt something loose under my left foot. My foot
came loose from the bike – I assumed an issue with my cleat until I looked down
and found the whole pedal and crank still attached to my foot but not the bike!
Shit!
So I pulled over for repairs, and not a half bad spot for a
mechanical issue either…
After about 20 minutes repair work (never leave home without
your allen keys), I was on my way again, having taken the opportunity to refuel
again I was feeling pretty good. The weather was all over the shop – sunshine
one moment, rain the next, hail then next, back to sunshine…. And then… the
wind. The wind REALLY picked up in the valley heading due west to the coast –
and it was relentless. The van had already passed me a short while ago, and
after 50km’s when I realised that I was using most of my energy just to stay
upright on the bike, I decided to call the van back for a pick up. I was
demoralised and my poor relationship with headwinds continued. As I pushed off
again waiting for the bus to come back I kind of felt at ease with my decision
when I saw the water from a pond, being blown off the pond and raining down on
the surrounding ground.
Eventually I was collected and we high tailed it for
Hokitika – we passed Alex (who looked spent but to his credit pushed on). We
met up with the other two in Hokitika. This was to be our overnight stop, but
upon noticing not much going on in town (coupled with the “who the hell are
you?” looks we got at the local pub) we grabbed a quick feed and made the two
hour drive to Franz Josef – I drove and spent most of the time keeping the very
un-aerodynamic bang bus straight on the road. Thanks also to Sam for asking me
to check out the amazing views, even though a small truck was coming in the
opposite direction… ;-)
Hokitika... has the "H" factor, but not the "X" factor...
Day 2 – Like a F@rt in the wind
Jack Daniels Remaining: 950mls
Kilometers Covered: 20km
If you failed to read my previous blog on my ride from
Brisbane to Sydney; you suck and it is your loss from now until the end of
eternity. But seriously (well, kind of seriously, you still should have read
it), I made my readers well aware of how much I DESPISE a headwind when riding.
After a glorious day of arrival (still, calm and maybe 22 degrees), the first day
of our ride was grey, cold and the winds of hell were blowing FROM the
direction we were headed. I half heatedly kitted up and rode round to the bike
shop with the boys to get Richard’s new seat clamp.
…and that was enough for me to declare I wasn’t riding.
Headwinds are not enjoyable. And I am in particular a sensitive little fairy
about them and refuse to ride in it. Let me <try> to give you my point of
view…
I don’t mind hills. A hill is the same hill today as it was
yesterday, as it will be tomorrow, as it will be in 10, or 100 years. Therefore
you have a known challenge that does not change itself on any given day. A
headwind just “appears” like a fart in an elevator. Something you don’t
necessarily have to contend with, but just happens to be there one day to piss
you off. A headwind could have been a tailwind (like the scent of a lady’s
perfume in said lift that makes you weak at the knees) or it could have been no
wind (like a lift as it should be – no noticeable smell). A headwind is the bane of my already VERY
fragile relationship with road cycling and something I am simply not willing to
deal with.
The boys told me I chose the right day to not ride. I thanked
them for their “support” (I think that's what it was). Anyway, a day spent with Sam the man in a van is
not the worst thing I can think of, and it was an enjoyable drive up towards the
designated meeting point (Castle Hill). A childish “doughy” in a van, 2 or 3
coffees and about 34 songs from our playlists later we caught up, one by one with
the boys as they rode from bad weather, through storm, through Armageddon on
their way up to castle hill. May I say good effort boys! Here is the grade of the
ride for you readers to help you appreciate the feat. Yeah, it sucked...
100km’s under their belt at Castle Hill, they were not keen
on the ride to Arthurs Pass, 50kms further up the road. Oddly (as we were in
the mountains), the skies cleared and the wind died down and we were greeted
with some spectacular scenery on the way to Arthurs Pass…. I was getting itchy
feet but could not get consent from a fellow rider. With 20kms to go to Arthurs
Pass we stopped for some photos. I kitted up. I rode. 20kms. Yeah not much but
it was a good way to start. And then Alex captures this shot. While I don’t
proclaim to like photos of myself and am probably the antithesis of vain, this
is a winner. Thanks Alex.
I rolled into Arthur's Pass. The backpackers we were staying
at there was a winner. Pub and food across the road, I couldn’t be happier.
I wanted to think of something witty to write about this shot in the pub at Arthur's pass, but Alex had just ridden that profile I showed earlier, the dude was shagged...
And here was my ride for the day...
Finally, I must say. New Zealand. Tourism. You’re doing it
right. Last time I visited the country I noticed the high quality of signage
and general attention to helping tourists experience the country. So we are in Arthur's Pass. Population 17 people, 8 Kia’s and
4 dead possums and we found this....
The photo doesn’t do it justice (it more
looks like a powerful camera flash). Infact it is a waterfall lite up with a
massive flood light and was REALLY effective.
And shhh, if you look carefully you will see a Samwise in
its natural habitat doing… Something...
On Christchurch…
If I may be serious for a moment, the evening before and
this morning with Sam, we had a look around Christchurch and it was a very
sobering experience. In February of 2011 (that’s nearly 5 years ago as of
penning this blog) a 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck Christchurch. The city
centre was out of bounds for a long time, and while cleaned up, the effects are
still clearly evident – most notable of which is the Christchurch Cathedral,
which seemingly still stands as a reminder of the event. The CBD is rather
barren, with many gravel parking lots, which are simply the vacant spaces of
demolished buildings. Further still were all the empty/derelict buildings. On
our drive, Sam and I also took a drive up to the hills surrounding Christchurch.
We stopped at a good viewing point, with a huge mansion behind us – on closer
inspection I noticed it clearly showed the scars of the quake with cracks in
the masonry patched up.
But as usual, a Kiwi never gives up, and for the most part Christchurch is well recovering.
Yours truly in a snap from up on the hills area of Christchurch....
Day 1 – Yeah but it doesn’t have the fucking tow bar we asked for!
Jack Daniels Remaining: 1 litre.
Kilometers Covered: 0.5km (test ride)
Kilometers Covered: 0.5km (test ride)
Standard rendezvous at the airport – 5 bike boxes + a 6th
containing the bike rack, the fellowship was formed at an appropriate pre-lunchtime watering hole at Sydney airport (yeah, a coffee shop). Duty free Jack Daniels
sorted. 1 litre remains….
…A note on packing ones bike in a box.
One of the most shitty annoying, frustrating, painstaking
asshole of a jobs known to man – just above removing the lint from the lint
collector in a dryer but just below cleaning up cockroach guts after a
successful slaying. I hated it. Nuff said. Shut up.
The unfortunate highlight of the day would have to have been
the discovery (or lack thereof) of a tow bar on the 12 seater van we hired (AT
HALF PRICE – thank you Sam) for the trip. This is despite the fact that we asked
repeated if it had one. What was more annoying was not the fact that we
couldn’t use a bike rack for the trip, but we would have to somehow lug the
thing round with us for the trip. And I am not talking about you standard bike
rack. It was one of these MOFO’s (yes, big and annoying).
Coupled with aggravating a back injury in unloading his
bike, Shawn took the news particularly badly and is the unfortunate winner of the
“first to lose his shit” award.
As we would learn though, this setback would lead the 6 of
us to being the masters of “Bangbus Tetris”. Packing 6 fully built bikes, 6
fully built boys with luggage, 6 bike boxes and yes one annoying… fucking… bike
rack into the van was no easy feat. But we pulled it off in spectacular style
and while not admitting to it, each of us carried a quiet air of contentment on
the achievement.
Attempting to load 6 large boxes and boys into the van....
Attempting to load 6 large boxes and boys into the van....
First night’s accommodation in Christchurch was really nice,
a quaint establishment just across the part from Chirstchurch CBD… Then this
happened on its lawn:
Bikes reassembled (well 99.998% assembled – Richard’s seat post clamp went AWOL), we did what 6 Aussie boys on a trip do best. We went to the bar. I reacquainted myself with what I believe is NZ’s finest beer and I am willing to say in my top 5 beers ever – Speights.
This is a photo of poppies taken at the hotel...
Poppies are nice and these help to convey to you what a fine establishment this was. It was the sort of place you would take a lady after a classy night out. Giggitty Giggitty!
After a quick beer we headed for the CBD for a meal “across the park”. Our accommodation was on the opposite side of the CBD – to get to the CBD we had to traverse Hagley Park. It was one of those instances where it looks much smaller on the map than it is in real life. To put in in perspective, we crossed a few football fields and a gold course. Once in the CBD, it took even longer to find somewhere to eat. In fact, once we found somewhere, Richard had had enough and walked back – the meal we found was ok, but certainly not worth the 45mins odd of walking to get there.
Another Adventure Dawns...
So back in 2014 I completed an epic ride from Brisbane to
Sydney – and was very serious about it, covering over 100km’s nearly every day
for 9 days straight. Much discipline was required for this ride, AND much
training (many long boring hours on the gym trainer during the winter months
prior to the ride). Alas, through lack of time (party because of work and party
because of interests in other pursuits) I did not put in the training for this
trip. I didn’t want to either. This was a trip where I would ride within my
current fitness ability and damn it, have a good time as well. I’ve been battle
weary from work this year and wanted to enjoy the trip as well. My reference to the gradual consumption of a 1 litre bottle
of Jack Daniels (with a little help from my fellowship of friends) makes my
approach to this trip painfully clear.
Schemed up mainly by Shawn and Richard, and 1 part each of
Paul, Alex, Sam(wise) and yours truly and we had a “boys” trip to New Zealand.
A focus on cycling, the trip was a tour from Christchurch to Queenstown. You
had two options for travel, the self-propelled two wheeled version, or the 4
wheeled option, aboard the “bang bus” (if you are not familiar with this term I
HIGHLY advise AGAINST googling it without safe search turned on). 5 of us brought bikes; Sam came for the
trip and experience, simply because Sam is Sam.
...And I told you not to Google it, so don't blame me.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
The old bag...
Probably a meaningless post to you but one of those sentimental ones for me.
This is just a standard buy at the supermarket glad zip lock bag. This baby was the protector of my phone, while stowed safely in my jersey pocket for the duration of the ride. The phone was removed and re-inserted into this thing countless times, it protected the phone from sweat & rain. I still think it had a few more rounds it is as well. I wonder if any of its brethren have seen this much workload... Unlikely.
Another random photo as well. The helmet, complete with Scala two way radio device attached as well as some specialised MAPM kit (Magpie Attack Protection Mechanism), otherwise know as a $3 set of zip ties from Bunnings.
A razor was also wasted weight and space. For a decidedly un-hairy specimen from the human genome, I didn't think this was a bad effort for 9 days of growth...
Justin.
This is just a standard buy at the supermarket glad zip lock bag. This baby was the protector of my phone, while stowed safely in my jersey pocket for the duration of the ride. The phone was removed and re-inserted into this thing countless times, it protected the phone from sweat & rain. I still think it had a few more rounds it is as well. I wonder if any of its brethren have seen this much workload... Unlikely.
Another random photo as well. The helmet, complete with Scala two way radio device attached as well as some specialised MAPM kit (Magpie Attack Protection Mechanism), otherwise know as a $3 set of zip ties from Bunnings.
A razor was also wasted weight and space. For a decidedly un-hairy specimen from the human genome, I didn't think this was a bad effort for 9 days of growth...
Justin.
Day 10 - A day for the record books
Finishing weights:
The Bike: 19Kgs
The Boy: 78Kgs
So, despite eating like a Mongolian yak for the trip, it appears calorie intake didn't match calorie outgoings. I have shed around 4.5Kgs. My suspicion of this weight loss occurred on the second to last day. I felt my jeans were lose. I attempted to tighten my belt. I found it was already on the smallest hole. While yes I lost a weight around the belly region (not that I had a muffin top issue or anything in the first place), unfortunately I think I also lost some upper body muscle definition so I'll need to work to beefcake myself up again.
Upon arrival home on day 9, the Garmin read 963.5Km's. I lousy 'effin 36.5km's from the 1000km's. So day 10 was a few laps around The Bay (with pannier weight on) and then a ride up to and back from the gym (see comment below...)
And here it is..
- 1,001Km's in 10 days...
- 46hrs 45mins in the saddle
- 31,668 calories burnt (or 133,005 Kilojoules - which sounds so much more awesome)
Day 10 was an interesting day. Exercise is as much mind as body. Honestly, for those 9 days, parts of my body, like my quads were screaming. But mentally I knew I had to keep going. Only by pedaling was I going to reach Sydney. So I think it was a case of:
Body: "Please stop, I'm damaged and can't go on.
Brain: "Shut the fuck up and ride"
This body/brain banter continued for 9 days. On the 9th day I reached my destination, cracked open a beer and crashed on the couch. I think at this time by brain gave into the body:
Body: "Please stop, I'm damaged and can't go on.
Brain: "Fine. Pussy."
Day 10 was an out and back loop ride in Sydney. I didn't have to ride. I was done. This was just the icing on the cake. And by this time, my body had well and truly won the brain over. These 36km's felt terrible. At the gym I couldn't lift shit. This feeling actually carried on for a few days, which I can only assume was a form of fatigue. I hear that on the designated rest days of the Tour de France, the riders still go out and smash 100km's as a rest day can spell disaster for the remainder of the tour. I really do get it.
This feeling of fatigue lingered around for a few days. I was also somewhat discombobulated. I couldn't get enough food into me. I didn't want to go anywhere or do very much. It was about 5 or 6 days before I felt back up to normal operating mode.
Justin (all 78kg's of me).
The Bike: 19Kgs
The Boy: 78Kgs
So, despite eating like a Mongolian yak for the trip, it appears calorie intake didn't match calorie outgoings. I have shed around 4.5Kgs. My suspicion of this weight loss occurred on the second to last day. I felt my jeans were lose. I attempted to tighten my belt. I found it was already on the smallest hole. While yes I lost a weight around the belly region (not that I had a muffin top issue or anything in the first place), unfortunately I think I also lost some upper body muscle definition so I'll need to work to beefcake myself up again.
Upon arrival home on day 9, the Garmin read 963.5Km's. I lousy 'effin 36.5km's from the 1000km's. So day 10 was a few laps around The Bay (with pannier weight on) and then a ride up to and back from the gym (see comment below...)
And here it is..
- 1,001Km's in 10 days...
- 46hrs 45mins in the saddle
- 31,668 calories burnt (or 133,005 Kilojoules - which sounds so much more awesome)
Day 10 was an interesting day. Exercise is as much mind as body. Honestly, for those 9 days, parts of my body, like my quads were screaming. But mentally I knew I had to keep going. Only by pedaling was I going to reach Sydney. So I think it was a case of:
Body: "Please stop, I'm damaged and can't go on.
Brain: "Shut the fuck up and ride"
This body/brain banter continued for 9 days. On the 9th day I reached my destination, cracked open a beer and crashed on the couch. I think at this time by brain gave into the body:
Body: "Please stop, I'm damaged and can't go on.
Brain: "Fine. Pussy."
Day 10 was an out and back loop ride in Sydney. I didn't have to ride. I was done. This was just the icing on the cake. And by this time, my body had well and truly won the brain over. These 36km's felt terrible. At the gym I couldn't lift shit. This feeling actually carried on for a few days, which I can only assume was a form of fatigue. I hear that on the designated rest days of the Tour de France, the riders still go out and smash 100km's as a rest day can spell disaster for the remainder of the tour. I really do get it.
This feeling of fatigue lingered around for a few days. I was also somewhat discombobulated. I couldn't get enough food into me. I didn't want to go anywhere or do very much. It was about 5 or 6 days before I felt back up to normal operating mode.
Justin (all 78kg's of me).
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Day 9 - Budgewoi to Sydney
Distance: Nearly there, don't care
Pain Factor: Nearly there, don't care
Magpie attacks: Nearly there, don't care
Cow sightings: Nearly there don't care
Accommodation Highlight: My own bed. Huzzah!
http://www.strava.com/activities/191513211 (Part 1)
http://www.strava.com/activities/191513467 (Part 2)
Like...a...boss!
9 days after setting out from Brisbane, at 2pm Sunday 7th September, we had done it. 1 full day ahead of schedule too. Thankfully, despite some darn right crappy weather for the last few days, apart from a few spots of rain at palm beach, Sydney turned on the weather for our arrival.
Having resisted the temptation to seriously "get on it" last night - limiting myself to just 2 glasses of wine, we set off at a slightly earlier time than normal. Today was a little different, because about halfway through the days ride, we needed to catch a ferry from Ettalong Beach to Palm Beach. The ferry of course worked ona schedule so today really was the first day we had to ride to a schedule. We left at 8am. The ferry departed at 11am. It was 50km's down the road. As usual, my body kicked and screamed and carried on like a pork chop for the first 20 minutes of the day. But ye 'ol faithful diesel engine eventually kicked into gear. Thankfully also the wind had died down a bit so I was able to keep a very decent pace up around the 25 to 30km's/h - much less than this and there was a real chance of missing the ferry. The remnants of my cold were breaking up too. I was a snot factory. Not sure if you needed to know that though..
Anyway, we half followed the GPS and half followed our nose towards Ettalong. One magpie attack and this was the first one who actually made an effort to hit me. Waving one hand around my helmet, I am sure I looked like a right slight to passing motorists. With a time limit, I made good progress and rolled into Ettalong at about 10:15am. As usual, Santo was already there and had staked out a cool little cafe (note: the Cafe at the Ettalong ferry wharf does THE best banana bread I've tasted!). Today was fathers day so a quick call to Dad while I inhaled a coffee and banana bread and we were on out way again.
Santo waiting as the ferry pulls into Ettalong...
..And then we were in Palm Beach, and while it is the far northern woop woop extremity we were, officially, in Sydney! Still a solid 50Km to ride though. On arrival in Palm Beach a bit of rain set in, so we waited it out for 10mins while it passed (what did people do before smartphones and the BoM radar?!?). Today was the first day of the AFL final's and my mate/flatmate's team was playing (Richmond). When a mate is such a massive fan of a team, you can't help but it rubbing off on you and I now had a new mission - to get home in time to join him on the couch to watch the game with an icy cold FULL STRENGTH beer in hand.
The ride from Palm Beach to Sydney was pretty typical for Sydney. Busy traffic and inconsiderate drivers. We were going to stop at a friends house in Manly on the way through, but pushed on. We agreed on a stop at Milsons Point for some obligatory "RAAR - How good are we photos". I felt fine for this leg, probably in the knowledge that I was so close to finishing. I arrived at Milsons Point and joined up with Santo for some photos....
Perfect day for it. I looked around at the normal activity in the area (tourists, a wedding, runners) and thought to myself, if only these people knew what I had just completed. This is where Santo and I went our separate ways, since he lived on the north side. Santo, it was a pleasure riding with (or several km's behind) you, good sir. Thanks for the adventure, support & company. A motivator in a very non annoying way, at least for this ride ;-)
Anyway, I had this thing about getting to the GPO, so continued on, over the bridge to the city. Oddly, this was the first moment I started to detect some resistance from the bike; the odd squeek and dodgy gear change. Given the amount of rain we rode through, I guess this was inevitable. I arrived at the Sydney GPO at Martin Place and found a random to take a photo. Success. Brisbane GPO to Sydney GPO. 9 Days and 963km's.
After a momentary reflection, I was back on the bike for the ride home to Drummoyne. The feeling in the body was odd. I knew I was fatigued. My legs were tired, but I could have comfortable kicked on, doing this day after day if I needed to. It was all about the routine - good feed and hydration in the evening, limited alcohol and I am positive the 30mins of legs in the air each evening was a saviour.
I was home. Dumped the bike. Emptied my bags onto the bedroom floor. Shit, shave, shower and I was on the couch, icy cold bottle of goodness in hand with seconds to spare before the start of the AFL.
Mission accomplished. But there was one last thing I had to do. I had ridden 963km. I was a mere 37km's short of cracking the 1000. I would ride tomorrow....
The legend is born,
Justin.
Pain Factor: Nearly there, don't care
Magpie attacks: Nearly there, don't care
Cow sightings: Nearly there don't care
Accommodation Highlight: My own bed. Huzzah!
http://www.strava.com/activities/191513211 (Part 1)
http://www.strava.com/activities/191513467 (Part 2)
Like...a...boss!
9 days after setting out from Brisbane, at 2pm Sunday 7th September, we had done it. 1 full day ahead of schedule too. Thankfully, despite some darn right crappy weather for the last few days, apart from a few spots of rain at palm beach, Sydney turned on the weather for our arrival.
Having resisted the temptation to seriously "get on it" last night - limiting myself to just 2 glasses of wine, we set off at a slightly earlier time than normal. Today was a little different, because about halfway through the days ride, we needed to catch a ferry from Ettalong Beach to Palm Beach. The ferry of course worked ona schedule so today really was the first day we had to ride to a schedule. We left at 8am. The ferry departed at 11am. It was 50km's down the road. As usual, my body kicked and screamed and carried on like a pork chop for the first 20 minutes of the day. But ye 'ol faithful diesel engine eventually kicked into gear. Thankfully also the wind had died down a bit so I was able to keep a very decent pace up around the 25 to 30km's/h - much less than this and there was a real chance of missing the ferry. The remnants of my cold were breaking up too. I was a snot factory. Not sure if you needed to know that though..
Anyway, we half followed the GPS and half followed our nose towards Ettalong. One magpie attack and this was the first one who actually made an effort to hit me. Waving one hand around my helmet, I am sure I looked like a right slight to passing motorists. With a time limit, I made good progress and rolled into Ettalong at about 10:15am. As usual, Santo was already there and had staked out a cool little cafe (note: the Cafe at the Ettalong ferry wharf does THE best banana bread I've tasted!). Today was fathers day so a quick call to Dad while I inhaled a coffee and banana bread and we were on out way again.
Santo waiting as the ferry pulls into Ettalong...
The ride from Palm Beach to Sydney was pretty typical for Sydney. Busy traffic and inconsiderate drivers. We were going to stop at a friends house in Manly on the way through, but pushed on. We agreed on a stop at Milsons Point for some obligatory "RAAR - How good are we photos". I felt fine for this leg, probably in the knowledge that I was so close to finishing. I arrived at Milsons Point and joined up with Santo for some photos....
Perfect day for it. I looked around at the normal activity in the area (tourists, a wedding, runners) and thought to myself, if only these people knew what I had just completed. This is where Santo and I went our separate ways, since he lived on the north side. Santo, it was a pleasure riding with (or several km's behind) you, good sir. Thanks for the adventure, support & company. A motivator in a very non annoying way, at least for this ride ;-)
Anyway, I had this thing about getting to the GPO, so continued on, over the bridge to the city. Oddly, this was the first moment I started to detect some resistance from the bike; the odd squeek and dodgy gear change. Given the amount of rain we rode through, I guess this was inevitable. I arrived at the Sydney GPO at Martin Place and found a random to take a photo. Success. Brisbane GPO to Sydney GPO. 9 Days and 963km's.
After a momentary reflection, I was back on the bike for the ride home to Drummoyne. The feeling in the body was odd. I knew I was fatigued. My legs were tired, but I could have comfortable kicked on, doing this day after day if I needed to. It was all about the routine - good feed and hydration in the evening, limited alcohol and I am positive the 30mins of legs in the air each evening was a saviour.
I was home. Dumped the bike. Emptied my bags onto the bedroom floor. Shit, shave, shower and I was on the couch, icy cold bottle of goodness in hand with seconds to spare before the start of the AFL.
Mission accomplished. But there was one last thing I had to do. I had ridden 963km. I was a mere 37km's short of cracking the 1000. I would ride tomorrow....
The legend is born,
Justin.
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