Category Archives: Meta

When we left off the last post, I’d just gratefully rolled into the Dinner Plain lunch stop, slightly behind schedule but optimistic, despite some warning shots from a niggling leg injury…

Lunch at Dinner Plain was one of the tastiest roast vegetable wraps I’d ever tasted. After ten gels or so, actual food tasted like a five michelin star experience. I half expected Heston Blumental to step out of a nearby door and grin at me inanely. It probably wasn’t testament to the quality of the food, but rather my body’s desperate craving for something that wasn’t a vaguely disgusting fructose/maltose paste. I also grabbed two cans of coke for a sugar/caffeine boost.

While eating, I rid myself of the base layer that’d been a perfect choice for the Falls Creek descent but had been overkill since Harrietville, and grabbed my clothing valet bag. I’d packed a second set of gloves, so got rid of the sweaty pair I’d had on for the first half. I also sent my windvest and base layer in the return bag, certain that there wouldn’t be a sudden drop in temperature over the next few hours. I’d also packed a heaping helping of gels and bars for the last section, which got shoved into various parts of my kit, sleeves, legs, pockets, the lot. Prepping to leave, I ran into the main contingent of LACC riders just coming in. A couple of them were looking a little grim, so I wished them luck, pointed them towards food and headed off.

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When we finished up the previous post, I was lined up in the starting area with clubmate Jason Livingstone, waiting for the off. The sky was still dark, with hints of a fine day approaching, and over a thousand riders were crammed into Slalom Plaza, tail lights flashing, headlights blazing and ready for the off. Inevitably, trying to funnel this many riders through a narrow start gate was always going to be a shambles, but rolling through happened largely uneventfully and we got onto Bogong High Plains Road in one piece.

I’d discussed my vague plans with Jason and I don’t think he was altogether surprised when I mumbled “right, let’s have it” and kicked off down the hill at full gas. I wouldn’t see him again until lunchtime at Dinner Plain, 116km down the road. Continue Reading →

A couple of weekends back, I headed to Victoria for the annual festival of uphill suffering known as the Three Peaks. For those unfamiliar with the event, what you’re essential looking at is a  parcours comparible to a Tour de France mountain stage, over 235 kilometres of stunning Victorian Alpine roads, accompanied by nearly 1800 other riders, complete with road closures, medical and recovery services, feed stations, electronic timing and mechanical assistance, and, during the leadup, detailed training advice.

It’s rightly a Blue Riband event in Australian cycling, and indeed has made some global lists as a best-of-breed event. This is something I had to do.

So I signed up. Unfortunately, my preparations were a bit rocky. I picked up a few injuries in January and February, which drastically cut the amount of riding I was able to do, but nevertheless I kept to my original target time of under ten hours – ambitious, but not unachievable.

Of course, that was almost derailed the Friday before I left, when my Chief Financial Officer and unoffical Directeur Sportif (aka girlfriend) offered to buy me a new set of carbon handlebars if I broke 9:30, or a Stages Power Meter if I broke nine.

Game. on.

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