Beaudesert Bash

I should have learned by now that no long distance event should be underestimated, but after a return to form in the 300k the previous weekend, and a solid effort in a rainy 100km "recovery ride" on the Monday, I went into Saturday's 200km ride thinking everything should be fairly straight forward. The weather forecast seemed to be on my side, too, despite the lack of rain. It promised (relatively) cool temperatures and a southerly wind to push me home, could I ask for any more?



Things started promisingly too, I made good time with a bunch of riders on the way out of suburban Brisbane, and felt strong against the southerly. I even pulled away on the hills near Tamborine Village (which, despite it's name, does not require a climb of Mt Tamborine) and was still feeling strong. The combination of rollers and headwind in the Albert river valley beyond Beaudesert was difficult, but every time I glanced down at my computer, I could see that I had plenty of time in reserve. The ride then headed out a little way on Duck Creek road, basically to the end of the bitumen, but only the start of the climb. Still, I was grateful for the turnaround, and the knowledge of a ride home with a tailwind.



It was not long after this that things suddenly went wrong. The Psssshhhhh of a punctured tube isn't such a frightening prospect for me these days (after 28 in 2007, I've had plenty of practice in fixing them). It was more the split that had developed in my back tyre that worried me. The immediate concern I had was fixing it to ensure I wasn't going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere. I took a patch from my tube repair kit and stuck it to the inside of the tyre (I didn't want to resort to the old $5 note trick just yet), then inserted the new tube and reinflated. It held the air. I set off and gingerly rode the 20-odd km back to Beaudesert and it still held the air. Now I was back in civilisation.



Now I started to believe I could finish the ride after all. At one stage I even believed I could make up the time I lost fixing the flat, but that was always optimistic. The rest of the ride was relatively uninteresting, apart from one moron in the southern suburbs of Brisbane who really doesn't deserve a mention anyway. I eased back and let the wind to all the work, until it dropped off later in the day, by which stage I had regular rest stops at Brisbane's notoriously slow traffic lights. 3km from the finish some rather vague route directions delayed me slightly, but those were sorted without too many problems, and I was able to coast to the finish.

Next week I'm planning something a little different, a return to the Burringbar tunnel on the new MTB should I receive Uncle Kevin's beer, or should I say "stimulus" money in time. I am considering whacking the new purchase on the credit card for the next couple of weeks until the money comes through. On the other hand, maybe he's realised that I don't intend spending it on beer or prostitutes (about the only things still owned by Australians these days), and decided not to send it to me. Oh well.