Is this the new flash mob?
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
The quiet Gorilla........
The 2011 Worlds have been run and won and the Brits have their first World Champion for 46 years. Mark Cavendish is certainly a worthy winner of the rainbow jersey, especially on a sprinters course, but what about the also rans?
Gossy is the future of Australian sprinting. He is of a different mould to past greats like McEwen. His victory in the Milan-SanRemo was a battle of attrition and strength. He managed to outlast some of the best in the world finishing ahead of Cancellara and Gilbert. His future is bright and after signing with GreenEDGE I look forward to seeing an Aussie team on the podium in their first season with Gossy’s hands held aloft.
Third place was taken by personal favourite of mine; Andre Greipel.
The Gorilla most successful year to date was in 2009 where he had 20 victories, second only to the Manxman. This was an illustration of the dominance of the HTC team at the time with 41 stages wins by their two sprinters.
Coming off the back of the Tour Down Under victory in 2008 Andre was the favourite to take it out again in 2009. Despite being the favourite, Andre was once again bumped into shadows. The second coming of Lance 2.0 had arrived in Adelaide becoming the sole focus of any media.
Andre was like Katherine Heigl in 27 Dresses, always the bridesmaid, never in the spotlight. It‘s this exact reason that made him so appealing to follow.
His conversation is quiet, softly spoken and delivered with German precision. Friends and I had the opportunity to meet him in the middle of the crowds of the Unley Festival the night before the Unley stage. He was minding his own business but happy to give up his time to chat to us. Sure I was with some attractive women who made it easier for him to remember us, but the next morning he spotted us in the crowd at the start of the stage and made his way over to say hello and pose for a pic or two.
We wished him well, but unfortunately he crashed with a Police motorbike taking down a few other cyclists that day resulting in a dislocated shoulder forcing him out for 12 weeks. Despite this set back in January he went on to achieve the 20 stage victories for the year; including four at the Vuelta a Espana in which Cav did not ride.
With Cav usually the first choice sprinter for any Grand Tour, Andre never got his chance to unleash his power down the Champs Elysee. Every cyclist’s dreams of being part of the Tour De France and Andre was no exception. A switch from the powerful HTC team to the Omega Pharma-Lotto in 2011 would finally give him his chance.
Much of the talk early in the 2011 season was centred on the much anticipated clash between the Gorilla and the Manx Missile with the first outing being the 2011 Tour Down Under. Unfortunately the first hit out fizzled with Cav riding for the team rather than himself before crashing.
The two would meet again, finally in the Tour De France. Once again Andre was second fiddle to an on fire Gilbert who was lighting up the early stages of the tour. Slowly Gilbert moved down the GC and the Gorilla was let out of his cage. Stage ten of the race was a highlight for me as I watched (& screamed) as the apprentice outsprinted the master and Greipel took the tape winning his first Tour De France stage.
With a third place at the worlds to add to his already impressive list of achievements, the gentle giant has a growing fan base. People are starting to take notice and I personally look forward to watching the progress of this adopted Aussie over the next few years.
Gossy is the future of Australian sprinting. He is of a different mould to past greats like McEwen. His victory in the Milan-SanRemo was a battle of attrition and strength. He managed to outlast some of the best in the world finishing ahead of Cancellara and Gilbert. His future is bright and after signing with GreenEDGE I look forward to seeing an Aussie team on the podium in their first season with Gossy’s hands held aloft.
Third place was taken by personal favourite of mine; Andre Greipel.
The Gorilla most successful year to date was in 2009 where he had 20 victories, second only to the Manxman. This was an illustration of the dominance of the HTC team at the time with 41 stages wins by their two sprinters.Coming off the back of the Tour Down Under victory in 2008 Andre was the favourite to take it out again in 2009. Despite being the favourite, Andre was once again bumped into shadows. The second coming of Lance 2.0 had arrived in Adelaide becoming the sole focus of any media.
Andre was like Katherine Heigl in 27 Dresses, always the bridesmaid, never in the spotlight. It‘s this exact reason that made him so appealing to follow.
His conversation is quiet, softly spoken and delivered with German precision. Friends and I had the opportunity to meet him in the middle of the crowds of the Unley Festival the night before the Unley stage. He was minding his own business but happy to give up his time to chat to us. Sure I was with some attractive women who made it easier for him to remember us, but the next morning he spotted us in the crowd at the start of the stage and made his way over to say hello and pose for a pic or two.
We wished him well, but unfortunately he crashed with a Police motorbike taking down a few other cyclists that day resulting in a dislocated shoulder forcing him out for 12 weeks. Despite this set back in January he went on to achieve the 20 stage victories for the year; including four at the Vuelta a Espana in which Cav did not ride.
With Cav usually the first choice sprinter for any Grand Tour, Andre never got his chance to unleash his power down the Champs Elysee. Every cyclist’s dreams of being part of the Tour De France and Andre was no exception. A switch from the powerful HTC team to the Omega Pharma-Lotto in 2011 would finally give him his chance.
Much of the talk early in the 2011 season was centred on the much anticipated clash between the Gorilla and the Manx Missile with the first outing being the 2011 Tour Down Under. Unfortunately the first hit out fizzled with Cav riding for the team rather than himself before crashing.
The two would meet again, finally in the Tour De France. Once again Andre was second fiddle to an on fire Gilbert who was lighting up the early stages of the tour. Slowly Gilbert moved down the GC and the Gorilla was let out of his cage. Stage ten of the race was a highlight for me as I watched (& screamed) as the apprentice outsprinted the master and Greipel took the tape winning his first Tour De France stage.
With a third place at the worlds to add to his already impressive list of achievements, the gentle giant has a growing fan base. People are starting to take notice and I personally look forward to watching the progress of this adopted Aussie over the next few years.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Tuesday: it's war out there.
A couple of weeks ago you may have read about the tale of a boy rolling out on the Tuesday Hell Ride in a quest to become a man (http://laidcycling.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post_07.html).
The tale was one of struggle as our GC contender Serge battled the speed, the elements and the lights to stay in touch with the runaway train; in particular on the return leg when the pace was ratcheted up and you had to ride on the rivet to stay on.
Defeated from the last attempt the plucky young lad decided to get back on the horse and have another crack, but this time with a secret weapon – shinny new wheels. Well not exactly new, but improved on what he had. Would the new Fulcrums be just the ticket to ride the train longer? Serge tells his story:
The stage was set for another attempt to do the Tuesday Hell ride. The temperature seemed ok, the early afternoon rain had passed by and most importantly the newly acquired Fulcrum wheels were on and waiting for a spin. As an aside I just love listening to the sound of them as they roll. So much so I am trying to work out a way for them to spin as I nod off to sleep - I digress.
Back to the ride. The legs weren’t feeling fully recovered from the 135 km to Dromana on the weekend despite research suggesting that all you need is 48 hours recovery. Anyway the show goes on so onward I had one goal in mind: stay with the bunch until Mordy and then hang on for your life for as long as I can....oh and don’t fall off the bike..... and.... don’t interfere with the big boys..... and generally just don’t do anything stupid !!
Sitting on my lovely Merida psyching myself up waiting for steam roller to arrive with a single thought .... “where are you pussies, I’m freezing here?” Seems the weather wasn’t too cold until you move, then stop...brrrrr.
It wasn’t too long before the bunch rolled past at exactly 6.41pm rolling at the standard pace of 40 km\h sweeping me up on the way like a war truck picking up the last soldier before heading into the battlefield.
The bunch was reasonable in size with another 40 odd riders looking to terrorise the good Samaritans through the streets of Brighton as they sipped their Sav Blanc’s before creating frustration on the already highly tense Beach Road peak hour traffic.
The cranks turning, wheels sounding spectacular and things were going oh so well on the ride until a set of lights went red. Forgetting who I was with I made the totally wrong presumption that the majority would stop. I slowed to a crawl only to realise that obviously sometimes red traffic light means ride at the speed of light to get through. The thought if feeling a bit lonely and exposed to the elements by myself meant it was either go hard and chase the bunch down or wait for the red light and roll on solo then go home. My ego kicked in and I wasn’t prepared to let go of the bunch just yet. The bulging pistons I call my quads pumped like no tomorrow and I chased .. and chased.. and as much as the big gears hurt, I eventually found myself back home at the rear of the peloton....hello boys, remember me!
I reached the halfway mark (Mordy) intact and in order to ensure the same mistake as last time was not going to happen, I did a U turn without unclipping the pedal and amazingly stayed onto the back of the peloton. The race back home began and the speed was on......
It was relentless, it was high powered, it was all big gear action and it hurt. The bunch were reaching speeds of 54 km\h and it was only a matter of how long I can last because at my fitness level this was as unsustainable as Charlie Sheen's drug habit.
People were spraying out the back of the bunch like bullets, lost for the evening. It was a war of attrition. The stronger riders used this pace to exert more pressure by moving up peloton, but for me, I just wanted to hang on for dear life.
Soon enough I had surpassed my last effort and made it to Black Rock. Mentally I paused in for a moment to pat myself on the back; I have achieved what I came out for .... a little further than last time. Satisfied with the achievement and dealing with the burning and pain from the effort I decided to fall off the back and said goodbye to the Tuesday Hell riders with a thanks for helping me this far.
With a smile on my face and enjoying the sweet sound of my new wheels I rolled back home reassured that I keep improving. I will be back and one day I won’t be dropped by the peloton. They all now know this, be warned.
The tale was one of struggle as our GC contender Serge battled the speed, the elements and the lights to stay in touch with the runaway train; in particular on the return leg when the pace was ratcheted up and you had to ride on the rivet to stay on.
Defeated from the last attempt the plucky young lad decided to get back on the horse and have another crack, but this time with a secret weapon – shinny new wheels. Well not exactly new, but improved on what he had. Would the new Fulcrums be just the ticket to ride the train longer? Serge tells his story:
The stage was set for another attempt to do the Tuesday Hell ride. The temperature seemed ok, the early afternoon rain had passed by and most importantly the newly acquired Fulcrum wheels were on and waiting for a spin. As an aside I just love listening to the sound of them as they roll. So much so I am trying to work out a way for them to spin as I nod off to sleep - I digress.
Back to the ride. The legs weren’t feeling fully recovered from the 135 km to Dromana on the weekend despite research suggesting that all you need is 48 hours recovery. Anyway the show goes on so onward I had one goal in mind: stay with the bunch until Mordy and then hang on for your life for as long as I can....oh and don’t fall off the bike..... and.... don’t interfere with the big boys..... and generally just don’t do anything stupid !!
Sitting on my lovely Merida psyching myself up waiting for steam roller to arrive with a single thought .... “where are you pussies, I’m freezing here?” Seems the weather wasn’t too cold until you move, then stop...brrrrr.
It wasn’t too long before the bunch rolled past at exactly 6.41pm rolling at the standard pace of 40 km\h sweeping me up on the way like a war truck picking up the last soldier before heading into the battlefield.
The bunch was reasonable in size with another 40 odd riders looking to terrorise the good Samaritans through the streets of Brighton as they sipped their Sav Blanc’s before creating frustration on the already highly tense Beach Road peak hour traffic.
The cranks turning, wheels sounding spectacular and things were going oh so well on the ride until a set of lights went red. Forgetting who I was with I made the totally wrong presumption that the majority would stop. I slowed to a crawl only to realise that obviously sometimes red traffic light means ride at the speed of light to get through. The thought if feeling a bit lonely and exposed to the elements by myself meant it was either go hard and chase the bunch down or wait for the red light and roll on solo then go home. My ego kicked in and I wasn’t prepared to let go of the bunch just yet. The bulging pistons I call my quads pumped like no tomorrow and I chased .. and chased.. and as much as the big gears hurt, I eventually found myself back home at the rear of the peloton....hello boys, remember me!
I reached the halfway mark (Mordy) intact and in order to ensure the same mistake as last time was not going to happen, I did a U turn without unclipping the pedal and amazingly stayed onto the back of the peloton. The race back home began and the speed was on......
It was relentless, it was high powered, it was all big gear action and it hurt. The bunch were reaching speeds of 54 km\h and it was only a matter of how long I can last because at my fitness level this was as unsustainable as Charlie Sheen's drug habit.
People were spraying out the back of the bunch like bullets, lost for the evening. It was a war of attrition. The stronger riders used this pace to exert more pressure by moving up peloton, but for me, I just wanted to hang on for dear life.
Soon enough I had surpassed my last effort and made it to Black Rock. Mentally I paused in for a moment to pat myself on the back; I have achieved what I came out for .... a little further than last time. Satisfied with the achievement and dealing with the burning and pain from the effort I decided to fall off the back and said goodbye to the Tuesday Hell riders with a thanks for helping me this far.
With a smile on my face and enjoying the sweet sound of my new wheels I rolled back home reassured that I keep improving. I will be back and one day I won’t be dropped by the peloton. They all now know this, be warned.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Garmin Edge 500 vs iPhone Strava App
“I’m a data addict”. Sad but true, my addiction for information is all consuming, but fortunately for me most of my appetite for information is fed by my day job as an Analyst. Like I said MOST!
Once an Analyst always an analyst though and as a result I still need to feed the beast that is my mind to gain insight through the use of data; even in my hobbies. So, it comes as no surprise that on a recent ride with my wife that I decided to do a comparison between my Garmin Edge 500 and the Strava application on the iPhone.
The aim was to satisfy my curiosity and to establish if the information gathered using the FREE Strava app was a) accurate and b) enough to satisfy my addiction therefore rendering the pricier ($250- $350) Garmin Edge 500 redundant.
The most obvious place to start is the price comparison; and on this occasion the iPhone app wins hands down. Assuming you have an iPhone the saving is up to $350 which you can put towards other toys, like new wheels, or a LAID Cycling kit and still have plenty of change left!!
STRAVA APPLICATION
The Strava app has the basics covered. It captures distance, ride time, average speed and elevation as well as plotting the ride route. The beauty of this tool is as soon as you hit stop on the ride it automatically uploads your ride to the Strava website. This allows you to compare your results against everyone else that has uploaded their rides.
Data useage on phones can be a potential catch, pushing you over your data cap and incurring a huge monthly bill. Strava indicate on their website that the GPS signal is received seperate from the 3G data which means you can use it here and overseas (assuming you have data roaming switched off) at no extra cost.
GARMIN EDGE 500
This is a case of you get what you pay for. The purpose built Garmin takes the next step having a fully integrated data set which includes all the basics mentioned above with the addition of; cadence, gradient, temperature, heart rate (Garmin 500 bundle) the list goes on. All of this allows the software to imply a power metric which whilst not 100 percent accurate is very handy piece of information.
You can upload the output onto the Garmin site, or alternately the Strava website which I personally find superior. Like with the iphone app you can compare your rides against your mates and everyone else.
THE RIDE:
I selected a short ride which was a 1.0km looped course with undulating terrain. I did seven laps at various speeds which included a unscheduled stop on one lap. It seems my wife’s helment is a magnet for Bee’s one of which stung her on the ear! The total distance covered was 7.1km.
COMPARISON:
Once I uploaded the Garmin data to the Strava website I did a comparison of both the outputs. What I got were two different results.
The distance covered was marginally different with the iPhone 200m shorter, but the big difference came with the profile of the ride. As illustrated below the iPhone struggled to capture the ride correctly.
The iPhone app has it’s place though. If I couldnt afford the Garmin or my Garmin was ever flat, or even if I was out on a social ride just curious about the distance I covered, then it would be great tool, but for me it’s Garmin all the way.
Once an Analyst always an analyst though and as a result I still need to feed the beast that is my mind to gain insight through the use of data; even in my hobbies. So, it comes as no surprise that on a recent ride with my wife that I decided to do a comparison between my Garmin Edge 500 and the Strava application on the iPhone.
The aim was to satisfy my curiosity and to establish if the information gathered using the FREE Strava app was a) accurate and b) enough to satisfy my addiction therefore rendering the pricier ($250- $350) Garmin Edge 500 redundant.
The most obvious place to start is the price comparison; and on this occasion the iPhone app wins hands down. Assuming you have an iPhone the saving is up to $350 which you can put towards other toys, like new wheels, or a LAID Cycling kit and still have plenty of change left!!
STRAVA APPLICATION
The Strava app has the basics covered. It captures distance, ride time, average speed and elevation as well as plotting the ride route. The beauty of this tool is as soon as you hit stop on the ride it automatically uploads your ride to the Strava website. This allows you to compare your results against everyone else that has uploaded their rides.
Data useage on phones can be a potential catch, pushing you over your data cap and incurring a huge monthly bill. Strava indicate on their website that the GPS signal is received seperate from the 3G data which means you can use it here and overseas (assuming you have data roaming switched off) at no extra cost.
GARMIN EDGE 500
This is a case of you get what you pay for. The purpose built Garmin takes the next step having a fully integrated data set which includes all the basics mentioned above with the addition of; cadence, gradient, temperature, heart rate (Garmin 500 bundle) the list goes on. All of this allows the software to imply a power metric which whilst not 100 percent accurate is very handy piece of information.
You can upload the output onto the Garmin site, or alternately the Strava website which I personally find superior. Like with the iphone app you can compare your rides against your mates and everyone else.
THE RIDE:
I selected a short ride which was a 1.0km looped course with undulating terrain. I did seven laps at various speeds which included a unscheduled stop on one lap. It seems my wife’s helment is a magnet for Bee’s one of which stung her on the ear! The total distance covered was 7.1km.
COMPARISON:
Once I uploaded the Garmin data to the Strava website I did a comparison of both the outputs. What I got were two different results.
The distance covered was marginally different with the iPhone 200m shorter, but the big difference came with the profile of the ride. As illustrated below the iPhone struggled to capture the ride correctly.
The speed profiles were fairly similar, although the iPhone didnt quiet capture the rapid changes in speed as accurately. I put this down to the fact that it’s a phone and the processers are busy doing other functions like getting signal from communication towers. In addition there is a lot of movement as it was stored in my back pocket for the duration of the ride.
One of the major shortcomings of using the iPhone was the drain on battery. I started the ride with 42 percent power and finished some 20 minutes later with 26 percent. That’s not a ringing endorsement, especially if the phone is your only means of communication in case of an emergency.
I tested this on an old 3G iPhone, but a friend tested it on the 4G phone during the Kinglake ride and didnt have the same level of battery usage. For what it’s worth I stuggle to get through a day without having to recharge my phone so that could have an influence.
WHICH ONE?
The iPhone app has it’s place though. If I couldnt afford the Garmin or my Garmin was ever flat, or even if I was out on a social ride just curious about the distance I covered, then it would be great tool, but for me it’s Garmin all the way.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
The last piece of the puzzle....
The LAID Cycling bib & brace knicks have arrived! The chamois is super padded and comfortable enough for the longer rides.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Who put the lake in the sky?
September 11 is a significant day in history for all, but for cyclists it was also the day they would pit themselves against the elements and the climbs to conquor the Genevese Kinglake ride. Facing some of the worst condidtions in a long time, the boys from LAID Cycling have the following tale of how event unfolded through the eyes of our king of the mountains, Mark "Woof" Mayo.
----------------------------
The good news is that the season of cycling has begun! The bad news is that it started in the worst conditions ever experienced on two wheels by yours truly.
We were promised a 40% chance of under 5mm of rain, so with that optimistic forecast we packed the bike carrier and made our way to the town of Whittlesea, host of the 2001 Genovese Kinglake ride - a 120km loop of stunning countryside 40km north of Melbourne, including the challenging 7.2km climb from St Andrews to the town of Kinglake.
With a crisp breeze greeting us in Whittlesea, we ummed and ahhed over clothing options and how much fuel to pack. As always, GC contender Serge felt the need to pack half a GNC store into his jersey pockets, which in hindsight was probably a wise idea. Little did we know how much energy we'd be expending simply staying warm.
We shuffled into our start zone and queued through the gate to begin the ride. At this stage there were smiles all round with lots of cheery banter between the lads. At this stage we were all dry and relatively warm.
The pace was quite moderate for the first few kilometres, and gradually increased through the sweeping roads of Athurs Creek and St Andrews, occasionally punctuated by a short, sharp hill. The first major challenge to greet us was the cheeky pinch of Wild Dog Creek - a climb that Phil Gilbert would spin in the big ring without breaking a sweat, but found us busting lungs in granny gears just to reach the top. We re-grouped and re-fuelled at the top before another short descent and onto the main climb for the day.
It was at this stage that the weather started to turn. Dampness on the road created a few hairy situations on the tighter turns, and didn't instill much confidence in many people's group riding ability. Nevertheless we reached the start of the ascent and everyone found their zone and spun their way to the top (some faster than others).
Another welcome respite greeted us at the town of Kinglake where we regrouped once again. The moment we found a shelter, the heavens opened and solid rain pounded the town. The sound of the drops over the tin rooves was enough for the voice in my head to shout "f*ck this" and I was seriously considering taking the shortcut 70km route option to get us out of this torment as soon as possible.
The locals were bemused at why cyclist would put themselves through this. With the rain hitting the roof and temperatures well below desireable a freezing cyclist begged the question on everyones mind "is there a warm fire around here somewhere?" With briliant timing and delivery came the response from a local "nah mate, we put those out a few years ago". You couldn't help but muster a smile.
After hearing from a resident weather expert pointing at his iPhone saying "it'll pass soon ands that's it for the day" Serge had made up his mind. So, in the first showing of Serge's single-minded desire to claim the "most combative" award he announced his intent to complete the full 120km route. Serge was full of hope and regurgitating the experts advice said "We'll take it easy, this weather should break soon anyway". Famous last words on both statements.
"We'll take it easy" soon transpired into a heated 45km/hr zoom between Kinglake and Glenburn. Every attempt to jump onto Serge's wheel resulted in another push of the pace, further increasing the speed and the heart rate. Thankfully the rain had stopped by this stage, but disappointingly it had been replaced with missiles of ice in the form of hail. The pinging sound of each ballistic as it hit our helmets drove us onwards. We were halfway now so there is no turning back!
We pulled into the rest stop at Glenburn to wring out our gloves and booties. We were saturated from head to toe and the sentiment from riders around us was of sheer disbelief that we were continuing in this weather! We witnessed a few fallen comrades that succumbed to the weather, now wrapped in blankets and trying to get core temperatures out of the frozen zone. Many thanks to the SES volunteers manning this station for all of their assistance and smiles in such adverse conditions!
From here on, it was a non-stop express to the finish line. No more breaks and no more words - it was all business now! It took a while to get the pace back up and felt like a constant battle against lungs and legs to keep going. The ever-present hail and rain soaked us again, and stung our faces as it pelted us from above. Every kilometre that ticked over was a minor victory against the elements, and one step closer to a warm change of clothes and a hot meal.
The following 20kms seemed to roll into one as we trundled past the Flowerdale rest stop. Another 10kms to go until we plateau'd at the top of the Flowerdale climb with the promise of a wonderful descent back to Whittlesea. Although shorter than the Kinglake climb, the sweeping bends lull you into a false sense of security, believing you've reached the top on more than one occasion. The "caution on descent" sign at the top was like a message from God and our sentiments increased in direct proportion to our speed as we revelled in the wondrous phenomena known as gravity.
Crosswinds made for an interesting descent, and more than one rider was seen being blown more than two metres across a lane in the terrible gusts. This was certainly no time to relax and take in the surroundings. Thankfully the lanes were wide and traffic was low, which allowed us a moderate respite from the pain. At least the heavens parted and we had a glimpse of the spring sunshine.
We passed the "10 km to go" sign and were indian-gifted with a massive headwind. Flat ground/small ring style and we pushed through the wall of gusting torment. We took a moment to reflect on the previous 100km and shook our heads at the pain we put ourselves through. Slowly the kilometres dwindled and we saw the finish banner. Arms on each other's shoulders, we finished wearily and with a sense of massive relief. It was all over! We looked back over a post-ride protein shake and agreed it was the toughest day we've ever had on two wheels, and will not even consider doing something like this again if the weather forecast hints at such bad weather.
But who knows... maybe we'll have forgotten about the weather by then... But now that we're dry and have had a chance to analyse our results, we've achieved Personal Bests up the Kinglake climb, and finished the ride an hour faster than last year. Pain is forgotten but those kind of memories last forever!
----------------------------
The good news is that the season of cycling has begun! The bad news is that it started in the worst conditions ever experienced on two wheels by yours truly.
We were promised a 40% chance of under 5mm of rain, so with that optimistic forecast we packed the bike carrier and made our way to the town of Whittlesea, host of the 2001 Genovese Kinglake ride - a 120km loop of stunning countryside 40km north of Melbourne, including the challenging 7.2km climb from St Andrews to the town of Kinglake.
With a crisp breeze greeting us in Whittlesea, we ummed and ahhed over clothing options and how much fuel to pack. As always, GC contender Serge felt the need to pack half a GNC store into his jersey pockets, which in hindsight was probably a wise idea. Little did we know how much energy we'd be expending simply staying warm.
We shuffled into our start zone and queued through the gate to begin the ride. At this stage there were smiles all round with lots of cheery banter between the lads. At this stage we were all dry and relatively warm.
The pace was quite moderate for the first few kilometres, and gradually increased through the sweeping roads of Athurs Creek and St Andrews, occasionally punctuated by a short, sharp hill. The first major challenge to greet us was the cheeky pinch of Wild Dog Creek - a climb that Phil Gilbert would spin in the big ring without breaking a sweat, but found us busting lungs in granny gears just to reach the top. We re-grouped and re-fuelled at the top before another short descent and onto the main climb for the day.
It was at this stage that the weather started to turn. Dampness on the road created a few hairy situations on the tighter turns, and didn't instill much confidence in many people's group riding ability. Nevertheless we reached the start of the ascent and everyone found their zone and spun their way to the top (some faster than others).
Another welcome respite greeted us at the town of Kinglake where we regrouped once again. The moment we found a shelter, the heavens opened and solid rain pounded the town. The sound of the drops over the tin rooves was enough for the voice in my head to shout "f*ck this" and I was seriously considering taking the shortcut 70km route option to get us out of this torment as soon as possible.
The locals were bemused at why cyclist would put themselves through this. With the rain hitting the roof and temperatures well below desireable a freezing cyclist begged the question on everyones mind "is there a warm fire around here somewhere?" With briliant timing and delivery came the response from a local "nah mate, we put those out a few years ago". You couldn't help but muster a smile.
After hearing from a resident weather expert pointing at his iPhone saying "it'll pass soon ands that's it for the day" Serge had made up his mind. So, in the first showing of Serge's single-minded desire to claim the "most combative" award he announced his intent to complete the full 120km route. Serge was full of hope and regurgitating the experts advice said "We'll take it easy, this weather should break soon anyway". Famous last words on both statements.
"We'll take it easy" soon transpired into a heated 45km/hr zoom between Kinglake and Glenburn. Every attempt to jump onto Serge's wheel resulted in another push of the pace, further increasing the speed and the heart rate. Thankfully the rain had stopped by this stage, but disappointingly it had been replaced with missiles of ice in the form of hail. The pinging sound of each ballistic as it hit our helmets drove us onwards. We were halfway now so there is no turning back!
We pulled into the rest stop at Glenburn to wring out our gloves and booties. We were saturated from head to toe and the sentiment from riders around us was of sheer disbelief that we were continuing in this weather! We witnessed a few fallen comrades that succumbed to the weather, now wrapped in blankets and trying to get core temperatures out of the frozen zone. Many thanks to the SES volunteers manning this station for all of their assistance and smiles in such adverse conditions!
From here on, it was a non-stop express to the finish line. No more breaks and no more words - it was all business now! It took a while to get the pace back up and felt like a constant battle against lungs and legs to keep going. The ever-present hail and rain soaked us again, and stung our faces as it pelted us from above. Every kilometre that ticked over was a minor victory against the elements, and one step closer to a warm change of clothes and a hot meal.
The following 20kms seemed to roll into one as we trundled past the Flowerdale rest stop. Another 10kms to go until we plateau'd at the top of the Flowerdale climb with the promise of a wonderful descent back to Whittlesea. Although shorter than the Kinglake climb, the sweeping bends lull you into a false sense of security, believing you've reached the top on more than one occasion. The "caution on descent" sign at the top was like a message from God and our sentiments increased in direct proportion to our speed as we revelled in the wondrous phenomena known as gravity.
Crosswinds made for an interesting descent, and more than one rider was seen being blown more than two metres across a lane in the terrible gusts. This was certainly no time to relax and take in the surroundings. Thankfully the lanes were wide and traffic was low, which allowed us a moderate respite from the pain. At least the heavens parted and we had a glimpse of the spring sunshine.
We passed the "10 km to go" sign and were indian-gifted with a massive headwind. Flat ground/small ring style and we pushed through the wall of gusting torment. We took a moment to reflect on the previous 100km and shook our heads at the pain we put ourselves through. Slowly the kilometres dwindled and we saw the finish banner. Arms on each other's shoulders, we finished wearily and with a sense of massive relief. It was all over! We looked back over a post-ride protein shake and agreed it was the toughest day we've ever had on two wheels, and will not even consider doing something like this again if the weather forecast hints at such bad weather.
But who knows... maybe we'll have forgotten about the weather by then... But now that we're dry and have had a chance to analyse our results, we've achieved Personal Bests up the Kinglake climb, and finished the ride an hour faster than last year. Pain is forgotten but those kind of memories last forever!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Who'll be crowned King of the lake?
With the Kinglake ride on this Sunday and the weather shaping as less than favourable for the weekend, this video may provide some inspiration.
Apart from the weather, another challenge for the day may be to take on Pro rider, Will Walker on the 7.2km climb into Kinglake. For the record he did it in a blistering 15:16. What can the lads from LAID Cycling muster?
Good luck to all facing the challenge and we look forward to a full report of events.
Apart from the weather, another challenge for the day may be to take on Pro rider, Will Walker on the 7.2km climb into Kinglake. For the record he did it in a blistering 15:16. What can the lads from LAID Cycling muster?
Good luck to all facing the challenge and we look forward to a full report of events.
3 Peaks Movie from Justen O'Connor on Vimeo.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Hell of a ride
The instructions from our bible (Cycling Tips) were simple, meet at 6:30pm sharp with a “slow and social” outward journey before cranking up the pace on the return leg with attack after attack. It sounded far too enticing to not be a part of and our very own Serge opted to be the LAID Cycling guinea pig for the Tuesday night romp through the streets.
Waiting a little down the road and looking like a Meerkat; keeping a watchful eye for predators Serge checked out every group that past him. None looked likely candidates for the “bunch”, but then the unmistakable noise of a peloton [insert noise here] coming over the hill got his attention with around forty riders motoring along.
The Russian national under seven vodka shot champion got on his bike and pedalled like his life depended on it to catch the wagging tail of the bunch. Fortunately he did and he sat on the back to catch his breath whilst the slow and social part unfolded.
Someone didn’t read the memo with speeds of the peloton reaching 40-45km/h as they hit Brighton and the group reach sixty in total. Every set of lights presented a challenge as the bunch weaved through peak hour traffic in order to catch the green lights and not miss the runaway train. Our boy was managing to stay on, just, whilst wondering what the return leg would bring once the “speed” was turned on. Fortunately the current speed meant little oxygen was spared for the brain to think.
Rolling through the motions the group, and Serge managed to average around 40km/h for the remainder of the outward journey. Mordialloc came a lot quicker than anticipated and there was no respite as the group built the speed back up on the homeward journey. Slightly uphill out of Mordi, cranks spinning and speeds were hovering around 39km/h.
2.79km from the halfway mark on the section between Parkdale and Mentone Serge lost contact with the rampaging masses. He was left alone and now exposed to the elements without the supporting blanket of the peloton. The average speed dropped by around 10km/h as did his head. The Tuesday night Lantern Rouge was now left to find his way home in the darkness thinking about the next time where he’ll surely hang on for 5km after the turn.
A mind blowing (and lung blowing) experience that still has the adrenaline coursing through the body.
Waiting a little down the road and looking like a Meerkat; keeping a watchful eye for predators Serge checked out every group that past him. None looked likely candidates for the “bunch”, but then the unmistakable noise of a peloton [insert noise here] coming over the hill got his attention with around forty riders motoring along.
The Russian national under seven vodka shot champion got on his bike and pedalled like his life depended on it to catch the wagging tail of the bunch. Fortunately he did and he sat on the back to catch his breath whilst the slow and social part unfolded.
Someone didn’t read the memo with speeds of the peloton reaching 40-45km/h as they hit Brighton and the group reach sixty in total. Every set of lights presented a challenge as the bunch weaved through peak hour traffic in order to catch the green lights and not miss the runaway train. Our boy was managing to stay on, just, whilst wondering what the return leg would bring once the “speed” was turned on. Fortunately the current speed meant little oxygen was spared for the brain to think.
Rolling through the motions the group, and Serge managed to average around 40km/h for the remainder of the outward journey. Mordialloc came a lot quicker than anticipated and there was no respite as the group built the speed back up on the homeward journey. Slightly uphill out of Mordi, cranks spinning and speeds were hovering around 39km/h.
2.79km from the halfway mark on the section between Parkdale and Mentone Serge lost contact with the rampaging masses. He was left alone and now exposed to the elements without the supporting blanket of the peloton. The average speed dropped by around 10km/h as did his head. The Tuesday night Lantern Rouge was now left to find his way home in the darkness thinking about the next time where he’ll surely hang on for 5km after the turn.
A mind blowing (and lung blowing) experience that still has the adrenaline coursing through the body.
Chucking on Kew
The first hit out for Dennis and the Schleck (Trek) Madone on this "hilly" terrain.
One loop of the TT course was the order of the day as Serge acted as the rabbit out in front eagerly enticing an unfit Dennis up the climbs on what was a stunning morning. The sun was piercing through the fog and not a breath of wind.
The outward journey was one filled with excitement and shock as all those forgotten pains of cycling came rushing back after the enforced lay off by the Irish man. Each crank of the pedal a reminder that the only way to numb the pain is to push through it. Meanwhile the teams GC rider Puppa (Serge) must have had a sore neck as he spent most of the time looking back for the lagging Dennis.
A wobbly stomach had started taking effect at which point Serge said "whats' your heart rate?" 155 to which he responded "that's not a chucking heart rate, push on!"
Push on they did as they joined a forces with a group and powered up the hills on the homeward journey.
The bottom of the last hill proved to be the breaking point as Serge feeling like he was riding with a weight on his back unceremoniously dropped Dennis leaving him gasping for air and hoping to survive.
The crest and finish reached and time for reflection........that is until Dennis shuffled into the bushes to relieve himself of the content of his stomach. The noise of which was only muffled by the crackling laugh of Serge.
Job done - ride one out of the way. Aim for next time.....no vomiting!
One loop of the TT course was the order of the day as Serge acted as the rabbit out in front eagerly enticing an unfit Dennis up the climbs on what was a stunning morning. The sun was piercing through the fog and not a breath of wind.
The outward journey was one filled with excitement and shock as all those forgotten pains of cycling came rushing back after the enforced lay off by the Irish man. Each crank of the pedal a reminder that the only way to numb the pain is to push through it. Meanwhile the teams GC rider Puppa (Serge) must have had a sore neck as he spent most of the time looking back for the lagging Dennis.
A wobbly stomach had started taking effect at which point Serge said "whats' your heart rate?" 155 to which he responded "that's not a chucking heart rate, push on!"
Push on they did as they joined a forces with a group and powered up the hills on the homeward journey.
The bottom of the last hill proved to be the breaking point as Serge feeling like he was riding with a weight on his back unceremoniously dropped Dennis leaving him gasping for air and hoping to survive.
The crest and finish reached and time for reflection........that is until Dennis shuffled into the bushes to relieve himself of the content of his stomach. The noise of which was only muffled by the crackling laugh of Serge.
Job done - ride one out of the way. Aim for next time.....no vomiting!
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