A Straight Ride Report (?!) - Alpine Classic 2007

(Written in haste for the Eastern Veterans CC newsletter)


I happily (?) completed my first 4 or so Alpine Classic 200’s without giving a tinker’s toss about my time, just finishing the damn thing on a very limited training time budget being challenge enough. But in 2002, just after descending Buffalo, I happened to hook up with a rider who encouraged a few of us to work hard into Bright “so we can break 10 hours”, which we managed by 5 minutes or so. I completely blame that anonymous person for leading me astray into a minor obsession to beat 9 hours for the 200.

In 2003 the bushfires put that plan on hold for a year; in 2004 a combination of spending way too long at checkpoints and a deathly-slow grovel up Buffalo (basically not being fit enough) saw me do no better than in 2002; in 2005 I got close with 9:03 (which would have been well under 9 without the Dingo Dell magical mystery tour kindly added by Audax for the 2004 and 2005 editions); then in 2006 I was grimly hanging onto the schedule as far as Eurobin Falls, but with 42 degrees showing on the bike computer I decided that discretion was much the better part of stupidity and pulled out just before my brain melted.

Enter 2007 and it’s a moot point whether the apparition of Comet McNaught over Bright is an auspicious or baleful omen. Ironically, my training schedule has been limited by the time demands of writing about training for the Audax website (http://www.audax.org.au/alpine-training.htm). A short hitout up Tawonga Gap in Thursday’s mid-afternoon 33 degree heat had been a total shocker, lowering the confidence level markedly. Onto ride day and as usual I sleep only patchily before the 5am wakeup and meet my mate Steve 10 minutes late after faffing around with food, clothing, bottles and other paraphernalia.

After the standard messy ride out to Tawonga Gap we cruise steadily up the climb, almost get skittled by one of those dreaded riders who leap out of the saddle unannounced and instantly move their bike about a metre backwards and sideways in the process, and then regular as clockwork we go over the top at 7:20. Normally I descend OK but today I’m getting passed and can’t manage a clean cornering line to save myself. On the flats the aim is to lurk in a group but I end up hiding second wheel into the (unusual) cross-headwind and doing more work than I’d like. A quick splash and dash at Mt Beauty and we settle into another cruise up Falls with about equal numbers of riders falling away behind us and pulling slowly ahead. No dramas so far and we arrive at Falls a bit ahead of schedule at around 9:40.

The planned 5-8 minute stop somehow morphs into 15 before we’re ready to roll and I try to sort out my descending down the steeper bit of Falls. I decide that while a light carbon fibre frame is the ants pants for getting up the hills, my compliant old steel machine definitely felt more secure on the corners, especially after juddering scarily around a rough-as-guts left hander not far from the bridge. How can I arrange a quick bike swap for the descents in next year’s edition?

Back to Mt Beauty with no further dramas and Steve & I pull into the servo for water and a quick clothing adjustment, along with about 50 bearded Harley riders who must have just missed running over a flock of cats (at least I assume that’s the drift of their conversation about “having no pussy on the bike”). We leave them to their feline discussions and embark for Tawonga Gap.

Normally this is where it all starts going pear-shaped for me but with temperatures 15-20 degrees lower than last year we can hold a steady pace of 13-14kph and the heart rate is still under control. About halfway up the climb I notice that the guy riding off my right shoulder is on a single speed setup with what looks like a 52-21 combination. “It takes a bit of practice” he comments without leaving me any the wiser as to why you’d want to practice that particular form of self-torture. He also claims that 52-21 is much easier to pedal than a 42-17 (both 67 gear inches) and now I know he’s definitely mad. (Mate if you’re an Eastern member and reading this, I’m only kidding!).

Over the top we’ve already made up for the lost time at the Falls turnaround and I’m finally regaining the hang of descending. The hoped-for peloton of large muscle bound rouleurs fails to materialise after the drop and Steve and I can find only one strongman to work with back to Bright, so feel compelled to take our turns on the front (into the wind of course). Now the HR is sitting on 160-170 rather than the desired 130-140 and I’m thinking this is not a good tradeoff for the 3 minutes saved. But vanity prevails over sanity and we push most of the way back into town, arriving at 11:45.

Here the planned sub-10 minute stop time again blows out by about 5 minutes and then a little more as I pull up outside the accomm on the way out of Bright to quickly greet the family and get stocked up with jelly snakes and flat coke for the Buff. However this second stop works out nicely when a group of 6 comes by just as we get rolling, this time Steve and I stick resolutely to the back of the bunch and enjoy a solid tow and tailwind to the tollgate. By now 9 hours is looking in the bag unless I completely blow up on Buffalo, which probably mean it’s about a 10% chance.

But wonder of wonders the man with the hammer stays hidden in his cave or wherever he lurks and doesn’t come swinging for me this year. I may be stuck in the 25 but I’m feeling OK and holding the prescribed 13 kph quite comfortably. The irony of Buffalo in the 200 is that it’s the one hill where you urge your heart rate upwards, not downwards (which would mean fatigue and an inevitable grovel), so I’m actually pleased to be sitting above 165 most of the way to the water stop. Just up from here I do my Good Samaritan act for the day and inform a tired-looking rider that he’s set out for the top minus helmet. My reward is the continued non-appearance of the hammer-man and although an attempt to push harder on the last couple of k’s to the Gap collapses pitifully just before Devil’s Elbow, we reach the top having climbed Buff a good 15 minutes faster than previous years, and the only thing that will stop us comfortably breaking 9 hours from here is a puncture or a crash.

Neither of those inconvenience us after a quick refuel at the Chalet, and a third of the way down we (guiltily, your honour) pass the slow-moving car constituting the only obstacle to a quick drop. By now I’ve got the descending thang sorted and am really enjoying it. A string of riders appear ahead of us on the final climb after the toll gate which encourages Steve and I to crank hard up the hill and form a group of 5 or so for a final push into the headwind home. The last 10km fly by at 33-35 kph and we stop the clock at 8:35 elapsed after a very satisfactory day out in the hills.

Next year, the 140 beckons. After all, following 5 years of effort I think I deserve some sort of reward.

(Although …. - he suddenly thinks to himself - …… with a ride time of 7:52 this year it might only need a little pushing on the first three climbs plus the return of my inner short-stop Nazi, and sub-8 might be achievable?? …… no, No, NO!!! – that way lies madness ……)

AAC Training Final Part - How Not to Ride Your First AAC 200

I began this series with the throwaway line that in pre-world wide web nirvana, a blog used to be "some unspeakable mess you carefully avoided on the footpath".

Rereading the nonsense that I've since contributed to this little cul-de-sac of cyberspace, I'm not sure that the original definition doesn't still stand.

Certainly anyone hoping to glean worthwhile training tips for their 2007 Alpine Classic tilt would have been sadly disappointed by their visit to this page. But it's never too late to get things back on course, and here's a red hot training tip from someone who knows all too well:

If you haven't started training yet - don't bother, it's too late!

So because it's too late for any further training advice, I thought I'd bring this series to a mercifully quick end with some on-the-day do's and don'ts, particularly slanted at those of you about to embark on the big adventure of their first ever AAC 200km. A lot - in fact all - of these pearls of wisdom are gleaned from the harsh personal experience of my own initiation into this fold more than a decade ago, or at least the little I can remember of it:

• Don't drive up the Hume late the night before with a grizzling baby in the back seat in the middle of humungous thundery downpour with nearly-bald front tyres on the car. You'll have enough near-death experiences on the ride itself.



• Don't assume that said grizzling baby will sleep peacefully through the night (or in fact sleep at all)



• Don't put your bidons containing specially prepared isotonic carbohydrate replacement sport drink in the fridge the night before assuming you'll remember to retrieve them in the morning (especially after a sleepless night)



• Do remember to retrieve the bidons in the morning



• When you get to the base of Tawonga Gap and realise you have no bidons on your bike, don't ride on for another 2km wondering whether or not to go back for them



• If you do go back for them, adding a mere 25km to your ride, don't then try to catch the 6:20 bunch you started with before the top of Tawonga Gap



• If you do try to catch the 6:20 bunch, don't expect to be successful, and do expect to do yourself some serious damage in the process



• Don't assume that it never rains during the Alpine Classic



• When it starts pouring with rain halfway up the Falls Creek climb, don't ride on getting soaked to the skin because you can't be bothered stopping to put on your spray jacket (assuming you were smart enough to pack such an unlikely item in the first place)



• If you do ride on getting soaked, don't expect to arrive at Falls Creek without the beginnings of a case of hypothermia



• Especially after all of the above, do expect to arrive at Falls Creek feeling like death and wondering how on earth you are possibly going to make it back to Bright (to then pull out of the ride of course).



• Don't assume that wild vibrations in your bike as you start descending from Falls Creek are due to a wheel about to come off your bike (although it might be a reasonable idea to stop and rule this possibility out). They are more likely related to uncontrollable shivering caused by that oncoming case of hypothermia.



• Don't necessarily assume that the miraculous fact that you manage to stay upright on the descent and more miraculously get back over Tawonga Gap means that your body has suddenly come good, and rescind your previous resolution to pull out at Bright. It's probably just adrenalin-related delirium.



• If you are sufficiently delirious / stupid after all the above to decide to push on to Buffalo, don't spend an hour sitting at the Bright control before continuing.



• If you do spend an hour sitting at the Bright control, don't expect to feel any better for it. Your body will just thankfully assume that the pain is over and go into shutdown mode.



• Don't be surprised that it is possible to climb Buffalo at less than 9km/hr



• Don't assume that the weather cannot get any worse than the heavy rain and fog you experienced as you grovel up Buffalo at 9 km/hr



• Don't start the descent from Buffalo in cold driving rain, gusty wind and bursts of hail as a cold change comes through



• If you do start the descent from Buffalo in those conditions, don't bother trying the Tour de France trick of shoving a newspaper up your jersey. The newspaper just gets very soggy and cold (and they only do it in the Tour de France for the television cameras anyway.)



• Do stop on the descent from Buffalo when your hands are so frozen that you can no longer tell whether they're on the brake levers or not



• On second thoughts, do stop on the descent from Buffalo before your hands are so frozen ..



• If after all the above you somehow make it back to Bright before the organisers have packed up and gone home, don't assume that no future edition of the Alpine Classic you are crazy enough to enter could seem so hard as this first one. The fact is they nearly all do, just in different ways.

Anyway, whether 2007 is your first, tenth, or two hundredth time at the Classic, I'm sure you'll have a memorable day. Good luck and I'll catch you on the road sometime.

AAC Training Part 6 - A Date with Donna

Imagine you're a fine upstanding citizen of a small but respectable hamlet with a proud history set in an idyllic sylvan location. Far enough from the big smoke to avoid most of the hustle bustle and generally more venal aspects of city living. A place where you can breathe clean air, drink pure forest-filtered water and just relax, enjoy nature, and contemplate the benefits of simpler slower lifestyle.

Then imagine that a statuesque madam reputedly endowed with "ample contours" and "thrilling curves" sets up shop outside town - just down the road from the Hospital if you don't mind! - and starts attracting all manner of suspect "visitors" intent on conquest. Which intention this shameless siren is apparently all too willing to accommodate, judging by the flushed glows on the sweaty faces of these uninvited interlopers as they gather afterwards in search of post-conquest refreshment, filling previously quiet and reputable establishments with unsavoury raucous groups, brazenly sharing and comparing every last detail of their liaisons, heedless of who might overhear them. Blatantly egging one another on to depart post-haste for a second "back-to-back" conquest, leaving disturbed and puzzled townsfolk shaking their heads at the mental picture of various unnatural activities that must be taking place on the outskirts of their village.

If you can imagine all that, then you have a pretty good idea of how the good burghers of Warburton might feel around this time of year, when every second Alpine Classic cyclist you meet seems to be just returned from or just departing for their annual "Date with Donna".

Yes, if Marilyn Monroe was "that kind of woman", then Donna Buang is "that kind of mountain". Which is not to say that she's easy, though she draws admirers like moths to a candle. Even perfect model citizens like yours truly find themselves futilely fighting the urge of her call at this time of year. (But beware her cold shoulder - more than one hopeful has been thoroughly frozen out by Donna after a badly timed attempt.)

Now, before Phil and his editorial committee start getting concerned about where this episode of the AAC Training Blog might be leading to and what NetNanny rating it may require, let me change tack and put all the above nonsense down to some as-yet unexplained hold that Donna Buang seems to exert on the imagination of cyclists with literary pretensions.

The more practical riders out there can tell you all about the excellence of Donna Buang's gradients and total vertical metres of ascent as training for the trials of the Alpine Classic, and the perfection of her descents for honing those essential high speed cornering skills. One or more "Double Donnas" has to be regarded as just about essential to any serious AAC Training Programme. (Yes coach, I promise I'll do mine soon)

But what I really wanted to highlight here, via a couple of examples from the cycling canon, was Donna Buang's unusual ability to inspire variety in a written medium - the email group ride report - that generally bears the same distant approximation to literature as a Kylie Minogue CD does to music (and embodies about as much variety to boot.)

In a vain attempt to protect myself from (quite justifiable) charges of flagrant plagiarism, I will suppress real names from the following excerpts - even though I did write one of them myself. The few of you out there reading this know who you are anyway!

Religious Epiphany

Sunday 7.30am, the 12th day of Christmas and a bright star shines above the small town of Warburton guiding worshippers wearing lycra and riding carbon/titanium/aluminium camels, coming to pay homage to their (hill climbing) mecca, Donna Bethlehem (Buang). In Biblical-gaga scriptures it has many other names: DB, Donna, Le Alpe de Buang, The Don and the road to the summit is called a few names as well, mostly four-lettered.

A congregation of riders meet for quick warm up round suburban Warburton then it's to the climb. Saints or sinners, it is our day of reckoning. I pray, set the cycle computer at the 60km sign, pray again and pedal. A__ confesses he has sinned on his training schedule and fears the wrath of 'The Don'. I spot D__'s friend M__, recent scriptures report of his sandal n toe-clip ascent of Hotham and figure that as Jesus wore sandals and had many followers I would become one of M__'s. Maybe he would share his divine powers? I looked around and see the three wise men A__,P__ and D__ climbing steadily, leading a flock of followers themselves.

At Cement Creek the gradient steps up, it should be christened Cement Legs because that's how I'm starting to feel. M__ say's 'have faith, if we keep this up we'll get there in under an hour'. We join up with Z__ and some road warrior brethren and levitate towards the top. The hellish pace is taking it's toll and I start to see a white light, imagining the tower at the summit has a tractor beam pulling us up. But the beam must be calibrated for carbon or a higher grade of aluminium than my Avanti because I get dropped: M__ is parting the air like Moses and the red Sea, sandals or not, I lose faith. It's tempting to stop at the spring and cool off with some holy water but the lure of the forbidden fruit of a sub-hour time is to tantalising. Lead into temptation I reach the top a minute and a bit over the hour, M__ did 1hr 55 sec - we have witnessed a miracle. Later hear that altar-boy B__ did 56 minutes. The prodigal son, or does he have the devil in him?

Descend, eat and start up the mountain again. It's not fun, every pedal stroke hurts but then think it's good prep for the Alpine. This thought cheers me up immensely but not as much as finishing, descending and getting off the bike for the day. I'm sure the feeling will be the same at the end of the Alpine.

Godspeed to you all,

S__

Moving from the sublime to the ridiculous, we then have:

Military Precision

Field Operations Report, Command Post Warburton

Operational Objectives:

Capture and hold high ground + observation tower at Mt Donna Buang, commanding approaches to Upper Yarra Valley.

Units Engaged:

First Irish Light Horse commanded by Brigadier O__

Primo Gruppo del Carabinieri d'Italia commanded by Generalissimo G__

HM Fourth Sussex Armoured commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel J__

Missing in Action:

Oakleigh Commando Group commanded by Corporal B__ (under investigation for possible desertion in the face of enemy fire)

Tenth Camberwell Infantry commanded by Major H__ (decimated prior to battle by unknown viral / chemical warfare agents)

Field Dispatches:

Following short parade and brief training drills, main engagement commenced at 0831. Heavy fighting on lower reaches of battleground against stiff enemy defences caused significant separation of allied forces, Irish Light Horse becoming isolated at front of formation. Somewhat easier progress made following capture of enemy forward outpost at Cement Creek. Irish Light Horse continued foolhardy charge at front whilst Carbinieri and Sussex Armoured consolidated rearguard positions. Main objective reached by Irish Light Horse at 0936, at which point desperate enemy unleashed biological Weapons of Mass Destruction in form of genetically engineered armour piercing marchflies. Bloody fighting ensued as Irish Light Horse (fortuitously assisted by chance encounter with South African Irregulars commanded by General G__ "Zulu Warrior" S__ and Australian Army Reservists under General C__) sought to repel WMDs whilst awaiting reinforcements from Carabinieri and Sussex Armoured. Despite eventual arrival of said reinforcements at 0950 approx, increasing hostile attack from WMDs necessitated rapid retreat and regrouping at base camp. Second assault initiated promptly but immediately apparent that enemy had been able to reinforce defensive placements in the interim resulting in far slower progress than on initial advance . (etc etc etc)

I could go on but I'm sure you get the general drift. Anyway, you shouldn't be reading this rubbish with less than three weeks to go to the Alpine, you should bloody well be out training! Preferably on Mt Donna Buang!! But it seems appropriate to finish with a final Donna-inspired limerick, returning to the same dubious theme with which I started this instalment:

The cops nabbed a lady named Donna

Who'd let legions of riders climb on her

When presented in court

Her defence was quite short

"Shaved legs are my weakness, Your Honour"