Upper Ormeauning

I'm not saying where that picture is taken from, because nobody would believe me if I did. On Saturday morning Martin and I decided to go for a century ride on relatively short notice, heading through the relatively flat stretch through Ormeau and Yatala (with only one noteworthy climb at Upper Ormeau), before doubling back on Stanmore Road to Mt Tamborine, and returning over Wongawallan. That was the plan. I actually "slowed" us a little by forgetting my repair kit early, but it didn't really slow us at all, because the time I spent going back to retrieve it would have just been expended sitting at a red light at the Bermuda Street/Hooker Boulevard intersection. In fact, I think I timed it pretty well, arriving just as that particular light was turning green.

In a strange way, I was actually enjoying the early stretch to Upper Ormeau. Flat rides aren't normally my thing, but I guess I hadn't been in that area for a while. I certainly hadn't taken the detour to Upper Ormeau for a while -- and that's a situation I'll have to rectify more often. We still have a dirt road behind a quarry to explore up there at some point. The contrast between the flat plains and the vegetation up here is actually quite startling.



The only other interesting thing that happened on the flat stretch was me wondering where a dirt track off the western M1 service road went. One of the local yokels (a kid on a trail bike) had an answer -- albeit not one that fired any great enthusiasm in either myself or Martin. We declined to ride it this time on the grounds that Martin was on a roadbike, when the yokel looked at Martin and said "bit of a f*ckin' pussy eh mate?". I'm not entirely sure he realised that he was talking to someone who has actually placed highly in 24 hour MTB races on much rougher terrain than that particular track, but that didn't stop us having a laugh about it later on.

It felt good to return to Mt Tamborine. It was the first time I've climbed the northern approach of it in over a year, so I decided to make a statement. I was actually surprised at how good I felt, and how easily the mountain seemed to crumble. I felt so good, I decided to double back after cresting the summit and decided to ride the last bit of the climb again.





There was one more bit of drama. On Wongawallan I took off again, largely because I was feeling so good on the climbs. On the descent I copped a bug in my right eye at 65km/h. I held it together calmly until I had cleared the descent and reached the flat, where I could wash it out. After doing this I noticed that Martin hadn't caught up to me. This was a concern given that he usually catches me on the descents. Eventually I turned back and saw him free-wheeling down the slopes, before he reached the flat bit and told me to "spot the missing bit". He'd snapped a chain on the climb. He didn't have a chain-breaker, and I realised at that moment that mine was still packed away with the things I took to New Zealand. I suppose that gives us something to moan about.

As it was, Martin was able to phone someone to come and get him, while I just completed the relatively flat ride home through Oxenford and Paradise Point. The fact that I had a tailwind meant that I didn't bother stopping at any of the bakeries. I regretted that a little when I reached Broadbeach, but with just 3km to go, it didn't concern me unduly. 163km in the end, with 1,495 metres of climbing. More importantly, I know there's one item I won't be thinking of lightly next time.