More musings

Here are some more random thoughts about last weekend's bike tour:

Cycle-touring really is at the top of any list of ways people can spend their spare time. Riding in a largely random direction without needing to follow a "plan" too closely was a great way to relieve some of the negativity in my life recently. It was more the sensation of simply "being there" than any physical release, breathing the air (even if there was some smoke around), taking in the scenery, facing the challenges presented by the terrain, it was all impressive.

It may not have been a circuit of New Zealand or Tasmania, but short weekend tours can be just as rewarding in their own way. The forests around Jimna and the mountain views kept me mesmorised for much of the time. The only disappointing thing is that it ended so soon. The Sunshine Coast Hinterland offers a world of places to explore and things to discover. I'll make a point of that in the coming months. And I still haven't made it to Minyon Falls in Northern NSW yet.

I cannot understand people to "camp" while playing crap music on car stereos. I was able to put enough distance between myself and them that it didn't bother me, but it still seems pointless. I thought people went to places like that to experience a bit of nature and get a break from all the things they can do at home. If they really want to listen to music that badly, it seems much more sensible to just stay at home and listen to it on equipment that will probably produce much better sound quality. That said, they weren't listening to Sarah Blasko, so perhaps their ears can't tell the difference.

Go to Buggary!

Last weekend's tour was a great one, culminating in the ride over Mt Buggary in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. It all began with a trainride to Caboolture, before heading west through Wamuran and Kilcoy. Even at this early stage, the scenery was starting to pick up, as was the temperature, although whether it's necessarily this hot remains to be seen.





Kilcoy won an award for being the friendliest town in South East Queensland in 2001, and it was certainly living up to it's reputation. A local cancer fund raiser even offered to keep an eye on my bike when I went into the supermarket. We ended up having quite an extensive chat about New Zealand, having both been there previously. She said I was a "real man" for riding a bike across from Caboolture -- then I later found out she was actually a cancer survivor. That puts things into perspective, but I think I might stop short of calling her a "real man" just in case.



The next stretch toward Jimna was dotted with war memorials and bushfires over the surrounding hills. I notice the locals in these parts actually warn people about smoke hazards (they don't in the areas around the Gold Coast). It was now 30 degrees C for the climb of Jinker Hill. The warning signs proclaimed a "very steep climb", but it was more of a long grind than anything else.





Reaching the summit of the climb was a triumph in itself due to the heat. It's going to be a long summer, six months starting this weekend, but if I can reproduce the form I showed on the climb I should slaughter it. I was now in the forest riding through the bellbirds. This was just beautiful riding, I really should do a podcast of somewhere like this when I get the sound working on my computer.

I visited the township of Jimna, where not much was happening, so I continued on my way. I really should have stocked up on water here, because I was later told that the "treated" water at the campsite was undrinkable (this was after I'd consumed a litre of it already). Still, I didn't suffer any ill effects, and there was enough fruit left over to ensure that I didn't dry out too much. I fixed a flat tyre that I'd picked up at the end of the ride, then settled in for a relaxed evening in my tent.



* * * * *

Sunday opened with another flat tyre. Evidently the glass I'd removed from the tyre the night before wasn't the cause. I fixed that one too, found another potential cause, then went on my way. The plan was to take Old Yabba road to the coast, then a train home. Easy I thought, wrong I found! The first stretch on the dirt through the forest, and later the open country was easy enough.



The rest of the ride toward Imbil was, however, dominated by mountains. A sign warned of a rough road over Mt Buggary, however, the condition of the road itself wasn't too bad. The gradients were another matter! At one stage I walked down a particular pinch because it would have been impossible to stop the bike for a corner on the dirt had it had any speed (it was hard enough to walk down).

I also had to contend with a dwindling water supply -- I had another bottle of campsite water in reserve, but I didn't particularly want to use it. The plan had been to moderate my pace to reduce the amount of water I lost through sweat, but the gradients on the road put paid to that idea. The scenery, however, was just spectacular.





As I headed east, the moisture in the air started to increase, and after one almighty downhill the steep gradients dissipated. I was basically back on the coast, except for another 40km or so to contend with. I found my way into the town of Imbil just as the last of the water from Kilcoy was consumed -- perfect timing. A town like this wouldn't get a second thought from most people, but from a bike tourist who has been out in the heat, it's a really good place to stock up on whatever I need.

An old steam train passed through the town while I ate lunch. Everyone in the town was rushing over for a look, but as an old Werris Creek boy, and having seen thousands of these things myself, it didn't quite hold the same fascination. It might be an interesting ride to take one day, however. I lined up the final stretch to Eumundi for the ride home. Initially I went through a relatively flat area that is intended to be flooded to build a massive dam. The locals were just about ready to lynch Peter Beattie over this one, although I can only assume that somebody must have voted for him, because he actually gained seats at the State election. More on that later.



There were even a few hills to contend with at the end. I had actually forgotten how hilly the final stretch between Kenilworth and Eumundi was. Perhaps it's because the only time I've ridden through that stretch previously was in a downpour that made long range visibility just about impossible. This time, however, I was able to enjoy the scenery.



It took a while for the train to arrive at Eumundi. If I hadn't lost time fixing the flat tyre earlier in the day, I may have ridden to Noosa and back. As it was I just waited until it arrived. This bike touring caper seems to impress a lot of people. The guards on the train wanted to hear all about my adventure. One of them even suggested the possibility of keeping a log of all my tours and writing a book about them one day. It might be a project to think about if I ever get the time.

Musings

I have to confess that just lately I've been having some dissenting thoughts about this whole project. I suppose it comes on top of an increasing disillusionment with basically the entire Internet. Having seen the way so many people behave on the Internet if anyone dares disagree with them, I'm wondering if the $60/month I spend on a broadband connection wouldn't be better spent on something else, or if the time I spend here wouldn't be better spent doing something more constructive.

I ended up booking one of the "official" campsites at Jimna forest for Saturday, largely because Queensland seems unusually anal about anyone camping in a state forest area. National Parks I can understand, but state forests? Nobody else in the country seems to mind. There were, of course, a million and one forms to fill out just to get a campsite. For an area that doesn't even have National Park designation, I think it's a little excessive.

Still, it should be an interesting weekend, in an area I haven't yet explored. The weather forecast says hot northerly winds, but summer's only just over a week away, so I shouldn't be surprised. It might allow me to travel a little lighter than usual at least. I'll just see how it all unfolds. The picture above is a shot I took from the top of a hill over Tallebudgera Valley this morning. There's something special about that first sunlight each morning.

Junk "science"

I wasn't going to dignify this with a post, but this story just won't go away. Apparently some guy in the UK has done some "research" and based on a sample size of 2,500 cars (fewer than I interact with riding to and from work every day) has concluded that you're more likely to get hit by a car if you wear a helmet than if you don't. Further articles have indicated that the guy carrying out the study was hit twice by passing cars while not wearing the helmet. On that ratio I should be getting hit twice a day (probably more as I deal with less skilled drivers), I suggest that if his skill on a bicycle is that bad, he should probably find some other way to get around.

Of course, conscientous readers will smell a rat right away. Somewhere in that particular hotlink one is able to note that this "study" comes out just as "There is a strong lobby in the UK attempting to bring in a compulsory helmet law." Granted, helmet laws are imperfect, and indeed helmets themselves have limitations, and this is a point that should not be forgotten. Personally, I agree that it should be a matter of choice, although that changes nothing for me as my choice is to wear one.
However, what I find astonishing is that people continue to trot out the old "helmets are dangerous" line as a way of justifying their argument. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can see that this research is full of holes, and can see that it is a political statement rather than an example of hard science. Unfortunately, a lot of people don't have two brain cells to rub together when it comes to cycling, and thus are likely to be fooled by the "message" this piece is trying to convey -- "if I wear a helmet I'll get hit by cars".

The facts about helmets are these: Helmets offer protection to the head from certain types of crashes. This protection is not perfect, but is better than none (which is what one has without a helmet). If you're cycling dangerously and unpredictably, or if you're dealing with dangerous and unpredictable drivers, your chances of being hit by a car will increase whether or not you're wearing a helmet (although most cyclist crashes have no involvement from cars whatsoever -- and most of those that do are avoidable). However, a helmet that is not worn properly is basically useless, and even one that is used properly is still no substitute for using skill and common sense to avoid crashing in the first place.

Stars

Sometimes it's worth pausing for just a moment to observe the world -- or in this case, many worlds far, far away. Tonight about 25km from home, having cleared the western edge of suburbia on the Gold Coast, I paused for a moment to look at the night sky. It's amazing just how many stars are visible on a clear, moonless night. On another note, it's also amazing just how quickly one can get a sore neck from the inability to take their eyes off that particular sight.

On a completely different note -- to that idiot at the Merrimac overpass this evening... Oh forget it! If he keeps driving like that, I'd say Darwinism might find a far more effective message to convey to him.

Numinbah vs Tweed

Yesterday's ride had something of a "training ride" feel about it. There was no real destination that stood out as somewhere I desperately needed to visit, so I headed out over Hinze Dam toward Numinbah Valley, over the pass, through a circuit of the Tweed Valley, and home. It was yet another disgustingly beautiful day -- a max temperature of 22 degrees C. Summer is just two weeks away, but right now there is absolutely no sign of it. The early part of the ride was dominated by tiny pockets of cloud dotting the surrounding mountains.







Much of the first 100km or so had a sense that it "had been raining somewhere" but was staying away from me. There was also another sense on the stretch toward Tyalgum that I really wanted to ride the old Tweed Valley circuit through Brays Creek and on to Uki. Current time constraints mean that it could be a while before I get to that. As it was, the sealed road between Tyalgum and Murwillumbah is still quite pleasant.



While I seemed to be in much better shape than last weekend's ride (not surprisingly), things still got a little difficult toward the end. A quick check of my altimeter revealed that I finished with over 2,000 metres of climbing in the course of 171km. That's now the second ride in three months or eight days (depending on how you look at it) with over 2,000 metres of climbing in a day.



This weekend I'm planning to head for Jimna in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. This will be a camping trip since I didn't get away over the Gold Coast Show weekend. I've also just found out that it will be the first weekend of the school holidays. That is actually a double-edged sword -- while I don't like a million tourists around on camping trips normally, I'd have to deal with the tourist rush if I stayed here on the Gold Coast anyway. That said, I'm already poring over maps of obscure dirt roads should I feel the need to free camp somewhere.

Mushrooms

Do you believe in guardian angels? One of them came along in an unusual form today, but at just the right time. It was when riding home from work, and yet another f*ckwit who slowed, swerved and deliberately tried to ram me with his car from behind. Rather disappointingly, I failed to anticipate this one -- although that could be the fact that it's been six whole months since the last one. Usually you can feel the very air itself losing IQ points when one of these idiots is in close proximity.

Cue the guy on the other side of the road, driving in the other direction, deciding to lean on the horn. Normally I'd just assume this guy was yet another idiot, but this time he had a message. On reflection it might have also provided a crucial moment of distraction to the idiot behind. I managed to get a swerve of my own in (glad that I ride far enough from the kerb to have space in which to do this) and evade the idiot.

Of course, it's days like this when I think the entire urban area of the Gold Coast would look much better under a mushroom-shaped cloud. Then I have to tell myself to calm down. After all, the explosives required for that job would cost a fortune, and I need to pay for some dental work soon.

Seriously though, I suppose there is something encouraging to take from this. The fact that there is actually someone out there on the road who cares whether I live or die. Evidently the police and the local cycling "advocates" don't (I've exhausted those avenues in the past). I suppose I could also be glad that I didn't react and escalate the situation, if I thought my non-reaction was for any reason other than cynicism.

Either way, I'm glad to have had some help today. Hopefully I can learn something from this and not need it next time.

No reaction

I rode past a car crash on my way into work this morning. For some that might seem like a remarkable event, but to be honest I just saw it as another obstacle that I had to negotiate to get from point A to point B. Apparently there were two cars involved, and from the positioning of them it was apparent that at least one of them ran a red light. I rode away thinking more about my own reaction than the crash itself. How did I become so desensitised to this sort of thing?

I've heard theories in the past which suggest that if a person watches too much carnage on their television, they can become desensitised to similar things happening in their own world. That doesn't really apply to me because I simply don't watch enough television, and yet, I appear totally desensitised by the crash this morning. One might argue that because I don't drive a car I "wouldn't understand", but I've had enough crashes on my bike (albeit without ever actually breaking anything more than a spoke) to know that it hurts.

A more likely conclusion is that I have become desensitised to car crashes because I've ridden past so many of them. It would be an exaggeration to say that I see them everyday, but only a small exaggeration. The same applies with red light runners, speed freaks, drunks, and all the rest. On Saturday's ride, for example, I had some drunk in a ute asked me if there was an RBT unit up the road. He was so drunk that he had to say it three times before I figured out what he wanted (unfortunately, there wasn't one, but I wouldn't have told him if there was). Most days I see at least one idiot who thinks red lights don't apply to them (I'm sure there would be more if I rode on quieter roads, where traffic doesn't provide the same "hindrance" to red light runners), and "speed limit" seems to mean "minimum acceptable speed" these days.

Consequently, when I see the inevitable result of this behaviour, I am not at all surprised. This morning it was "just another idiot who didn't look before charging through the light". In truth, if I'd been the "victim" of this crash, I'd probably be admonishing myself for failing to predict that the other guy wasn't stopping. It is, of course, very sad that a public road, any public road, should descend into this sort of chaos. But until people start thinking of something other than themselves for five minutes, and until we get a police force that is either willing or able to enforce the law, I'm just going to have to keep dealing with this obstacle day after day.

Nicked

A rather interesting "surprise" awaited me after riding to work this morning. Our office was burgled over night. As far as I can tell, a laptop computer, a rubbish bin, a packet of chewing gum, and some rather dull workpaper templates were stolen, yes we have some rather strange thieves on the Gold Coast. Every office in the building was hit apparently, although I noted they gave up looking for anything valuable in my office relatively quickly. I suspect it had more to do with trying to find something in the mess that is my desk rather than being disturbed in the process.

In other news, I'm going to have to update the "current listening" section of this blog in the near future. Melbourne band Gersey have finally got around to releasing their latest album. It's been over three years since the great Storms Dressed as Stars -- an album that would have been just about impossible to follow up. However, I think they've managed to pull it off. This album is a little more up-tempo than their previous releases, but it still retains the atmospheric quality for which Gersey are known. It's probably still too good to be appreciated by the Australian market, but such is life.

I also took a listen to the first track of Sarah Blasko's forthcoming CD. If the rest of the record is anywhere near as good as this first track, it will be the album of the year.

Glorious Mee 2006

It has taken me a while to get around to posting this, but Saturday was the 5th time I've subjected myself to the punishment of riding The Wonders of Glorious Mee, with it's 200km and 3,000 metres of climbing. You can add a bit to each of those statistics when my ride to and from the start is taken into account. The difference this year was that my preparation for this ride wasn't as clinical as in previous years -- largely a function of underestimating it. Consequently, I took an hour longer to complete it than last year.

The first act is, of course, the climb of Mt Nebo and Mt Glorious. Even before the climb started, the flowers that would follow much of the ride were in evidence.



This stage was probably the best I felt during the entire ride, as the road snaked it's way up the mountain, with the views really opening up between the peaks of Mt Nebo and Mt Glorious.





The first checkpoint is at the top of Mt Glorious, and it's one that I never seem to judge quite right in terms of what to eat. Fortunately, on this day I had some extra muesli bars from home to help bridge the gap to Kilcoy. The climb itself is followed by a steep, twisting descent, where the constant braking tested the finger I injured last week.

At the bottom the countryside opened up into prime magpie territory, although they seemed to be fewer in number this year. There are 50km riding through the open country to Kilcoy, but this year it seemed noticeably drier than in previous years (which takes some doing). Even Lake Somerset was considerably lower than it's usual level.



For some reason I usually find myself starting to slow a little at the Kilcoy checkpoint, and this time I made the mistake of just plain eating the wrong thing. The chicken I ate here gave me an upset stomach, and while it was nothing that would inhibit me seriously, it did make food a little harder to digest. It would stay with me through the last of the open country...



... and onto Mt Mee. The climb of Mt Mee is always difficult coming as it does 155km into the ride. I handled it reasonably without ever really setting it on fire. It was at the summit of this climb that I really noticed the difference in my conditioning levels between this year and last year. 12 months ago I powered over the summit, barely stopping at the checkpoint and flying home. This year it would be a case of toughing it out, even after a much longer stay at the final checkpoint.



Late on in the ride (the last 20km), my form started to return again. The stomach had settled down, and I was able to find a decent rhythm with which to finish the ride. This year the finish was at Samford rather than going all the way back to The Gap, basically saving 15km. By the time I rode back to Fortitude Valley, it made little difference to me. I seemed to get stronger again after the sun went down, which probably isn't a surprise -- given my inability to cope with any form of heat whatsoever. The final tally for the day was 237km and something like 3,267 metres of climbing.

On reflection, there are some things to take out of this. It really is a memorable ride -- even if it may not "officially" be on the calendar for 2006 (or is at least in some doubt). The scenery is beautiful, and the climbs just never quit. I did enjoy it, but I really should have been in better condition, which might have allowed me to enjoy it a lot more. It may have also provided the wake-up call I needed with my plans to head for Tasmania for the Seven Hills Dash in December. The good news is that I have plenty of time to ready myself for that one.

Noise pollution

It has come to my attention that apparently we have a Noise Pollution Law in Queensland. In fact, I understand every Australian State has one. The way it works is that if a person is making excessive noise (such as playing music too loudly) they can be fined. I've not yet run foul of that law yet -- largely because I believe that playing music that loudly is likely to diminish the sound quality (at least on the cheap stereo equipment that I have).

However, what I'm wondering is just how all the Gold Coast hoons driving their hotted up heaps of crap get away with it. It's clearly unnecessary, because not every car on the road makes that much noise (even if it is more common on the GC than anywhere else). Consequently, it seems to me that these idiots driving around in their crap that can be heard for several kilometres on Friday or Saturday nights are guilty of noise pollution. I'm fairly certain that if I played Sarah Blasko or the Manic Street Preachers at that volume, I'd be fined. Yet these idiots seem to get away with it time and again. Can someone explain to me just why this double standard exists? There's a reason I chose not to live right next door to a race track.

In other news, tomorrow I'll be riding the Wonders of Glorious Mee for what might be the last time. As far as I'm aware, it's not likely to find it's way onto the Audax calendar next year, so unless it's an "unsupported" ride (which wouldn't bother me that much), it's likely to disappear. That is a shame because it's one of the few organised rides in Queensland with any noteworthy climbing. It will be missed.

Tomorrow is also state election day, and I would suggest to Ray Stevens, the Liberal* candidate for Robina that he teach his staff how to read (assuming he knows himself). The words "No Junk Mail" are not difficult -- only four letters at most. The entire phrase has only three syllables, yet whoever is responsible for their advertising failed to read them on my letterbox yesterday. I see the pamphlet shows his ugly face, complete with smug grin. Maybe I should pick up some pins on the way home from work this evening and see what I can do about that grin. :^)

* For anyone reading this outside Australia, "Liberal" candidate is a bit of a misnomer. The major conservative party in Australia actually call themselves the Liberal party. I'm not sure who they think they're fooling -- well, actually, if it's the Australian electorate we're talking about, they might actually be fooling someone.

The ride that nearly wasn't

Sometimes I get the feeling that a particular ride just isn't meant to happen. This morning was one of those. First of all my alarm clock wasn't working. As it was I woke up at 4.32am without it, so that problem was solved. Then when heading away from the coast I went straight into the teeth of an unusually strong wind (by Gold Coast standards). Why that should bother me I have no idea -- there was a gust "officially" clocked at 75km/h. I was riding into winds of twice that strength in New Zealand earlier this year.

Then it took a long time to clear the urban area because of an unusually bad run with red lights for that time of morning. If that wasn't enough, I managed to get something stuck in my eye, which delayed me even further -- I really need to get my night lenses clean when I get a free moment. Somehow I still managed to clock 50km before work, on what was a lovely morning. The temperature was near perfect, and the morning air was crisp and clear from all the wind. It was a pleasure to be breathing.

Finally, if anyone reading this is a fan of rap music, would you be so kind as to answer one question. What does the saying "In the house" mean?

Commuter "challenge?

Over at bikejournal, people are always looking for new ways to "motivate" themselves and others to ride. The latest thing is a commuter century challenge. Evidently it involves trying to ride to work for a total of 100 days in 2006.

Perhaps it's just me, but to be honest I'm wondering what all the fuss is about. I don't intend to belittle anyone with this post, and I realise that for some people this really is a major achievement. It's just that riding to work is something that comes so naturally to me, that I really just don't give it a second thought. It could be argued that my current commute (a round trip of just 17km) is a relatively short one, and this fact alone removes much of the "challenge" element that would be there. However, this hasn't always been the case -- I still recall a daily commute of 47km back in 2002 -- I didn't miss a day of that either.

I just think it's interesting to compare the different mentalities of different lifestyles in this situation. For some, the prospect of riding a bicycle to work seems like a major challenge. For me, riding to work and dealing with whatever challenges traffic, weather or whatever throw at me is just second nature, and something I consider a far lesser hassle than stumping up the money to acquire and maintain a car. It's also much more convenient than sitting in gridlock for hours on end each day.

Perhaps I should just stay out of that particular forum discussion, lest I unintenionally offend someone.

Get a life

This story was brought to my attention courtesy of Triple J this morning.

Western Australian police allege two youths have admitted they were responsible for deliberately running down a kangaroo south of Perth because they were bored and drunk.

Obviously someone here has failed to learn one of the basic principles of medical science. There is, in fact, a much simpler and more constructive cure for boredom -- it's called GETTING A F*CKING LIFE.

Is it just me, or is there an increasing number of people these days who have no respect for anything. Matt over at Spanish Redneck pointed out a similar story yesterday. I too, have had more than enough of these stupid morons who think they can kill and/or break whatever they want simply because they're "bored". Please, get a life, or a hobby, or something and GROW UP!

Ships Stern

If you click on this link you should see a slide show displaying the results of a 105km bike ride and a 24km hike in Lamington National Park yesterday. Unfortunately I badly misjudged a leap on the crossing of Nixon Creek and fell rather hard. While I didn't lose any skin, one of my fingers got owned pretty hard in an argument with a big rock and typing is slightly painful right now.

I also spent considerable time in the last 5km of the walk picking off leeches, although most of them were relatively small. The big bloated ones mustn't start until later in the summer. I did, however, enjoy the final twist of the cloud covering the Beechmont range on the way home late in the afternoon. That was totally amazing, thick mountain mist all around, with perfect blue sky directly above. I've never seen anything like that before.