Reprieve, or was it?

This is post number 200 on this humble blog that started last August. Fittingly, it's a ride report (and not terribly dial-up friendly), of a ride which was almost over before it began. First of all I left without my camera, then had to go back and get it. 15km into the ride I realised I'd forgotten my money and my sunscreen -- probably two of the more important items from the kit bag. I was saved by my own laziness, I had some change left over in my camera bag from the last ride, which was just enough to get some more sunscreen at Pottsville along the way. Hence, I headed down the Tweed Coast, on the way at last.





It's after heading inland here that this ride really starts, through Mullumbimby, climbing to the Crystal Castle, and a series of 3-4km climbs followed by screaming descents. This part of NSW really is a magical wonderland, with sweeping views all around







... and passing through beautiful forests.



This section of the ride passes through places with names like Repentence Creek and The Channon. Some of the hippie cottages in the forests and their associated decorations add to the mystique of the area. Other surprises included the occasional waterfall, although the sun tended to come out at just the wrong time to capture too many pictures of them. However, if you look very closely at the shot below...



The magical run came to an end with a flat tyre just before Nimbin. Not a major crisis, but very annoying. It also meant that I missed the highlights of the previous night's TdF stage. The ride still had it's charms, the Sphinx guarding Mt Burrell.



However, I was now climbing the hills in a diminished capacity with a malfunctioning gear cable. It just had to effect the climbing gears, didn't it? Still, pausing only to take on more water at Uki, I pressed on, climbing over Urliup before being confronted with Bilambil. Always the last noteworthy climb, it's been something of a nemesis in the past, a gradient just steep enough to cause problems right at the end of a ride, and today I was down a few gears.

There was nothing for it but to launch an attack. The first kick cracked fairly quickly, onto the mid-section where the gradient eases somewhat. This wasn't so bad, I can even get back into the saddle for a bit. The next kick, and the hard bit, out of the saddle, attacking again. For a while, I looked like slowing up. Then, looking up, I could see the summit, another kick of speed, the false flat right near the top was attained emphatically. The remainder of the climb is no problem after that. Revenge was mine. I paused just over the other side to take a picture:



After that, it was just 35km of suburbia to negotiate, before dealing with the drunk mentioned in a previous post. Still, it wasn't all bad. Waiting two hours for a response from the police wasn't all bad, it gave me the chance to cook up a huge pasta meal -- something I really needed after 253km and 2,679 metres of climbing.