Tosspot of the week

Queensland's motorists aren't exactly known for their intelligence, so this probably shouldn't come as a surprise, but sometimes trying to figure out the "logic" behind certain actions can give one plenty of thinking to do in idle time. Such a situation arose on the ride home from work this evening. Traffic was banked up on the approach to a roundabout (or traffic cirle to those in the Northern Hemisphere) as usual at that time of day, but one idiot just couldn't grasp the concept.

This moron started by doing the usual thing, leaning on the horn to try to get the driver in front of him (who had nowhere to go in the gridlock anyway) to somehow move somewhere. Of course, "moving" doesn't happen very often in gridlock (at least not if you have four wheels), so the honks weren't having the desired effect. Of course, our moron wasn't satisfied with this, so his next move was to physically get out of his car and walk to the car in front of him, shouting "move your f*ckin' car!".

I actually didn't see what happened next, as by this stage I had picked my way through the gridlock and cycled on. But it does beg the question - what was this moron hoping to achieve? Did he really believe that shouting abuse at the driver in front of him was going to get the traffic to start moving? Even after his honks had clearly failed to do so? More to the point, what was he going to do if the traffic did start to move while he was standing in the roadway shouting abuse? Some people seem to be so stupid that they would get a black eye from being punched in the mouth.

Honestly, why doesn't our government send people like this to go and fight in Afghanistan or Iraq? With a bit of luck, they might catch a stray bullet from a freedom fighter, then maybe those wars might actually serve a purpose.

Colours of autumn

This is for those who are under some delusion that it's "winter" in these parts. For my "recovery" ride from a shoulder injury, I decided to do a quick loop around Tumbulgum Rock, or whatever the official name is (I believe someone enlightened us all in the comments of a previous post), yet it was this grand old tree in a Murwillumbah park that provided the most breath-taking moment of the whole ride. Not that the rest of the ride was ugly, the clouds over the horizon just after sunrise were playing tricks with the light, and made the early route along the coast a little more scenic than it otherwise might have been.



It was after this that I was going to give the shoulder some extra activity, with the 16% gradients on Hogans road just before the entry to the rainforest that occasionally force me out of the saddle. The shoulder could cope, but only in short bursts. Still, the climb was negotiated fairly comfortably, allowing me to set off into the rainforest, before descending crazily into the Tweed Valley. The following climb was the gentle switchback road at Clothiers creek, which then led to the pretty ridgetop route at Farrants Hill. I've long enjoyed this particular stretch of road, not so much for it's views, but for the flowers that always seem to bloom up here.





The descent into the valley was followed by a hard slog into a westerly wind. It probably wasn't a huge wind, but as I was out of condition, it did require some effort. I may, however, have expended too much effort on the way past the rock, but by this stage I wasn't planning on worrying about that. I did pause under that beautiful tree at Murwillumbah for some more water, and probably should have used the opportunity for some stretching in hindsight, but we're all a genius after the event.



The final climb of Tomewin can be a testing occasion, but this time I was fortunate in that the last time I had done it was at the back end of a 260km ride with around 3,500 metres of climbing. Today was a considerably easier day, so I realised that it was very doable, even if I was a little short of conditioning. As it happened, the valley below, and the coastal strip that followed proved more difficult as an unseasonal northerly wind made an appearance. In the end, however, I was quite happy with the ride. My shoulder didn't suffer any lingering effects, and the scenery was pretty. I now plan on riding up at least one mountain every weekend for the foreseeable future. A nice little target until I regain 100% fitness.

Search on hold

The prognosis on my shoulder is a grade 2 muscle-tear (whatever that is). The good news is that I can ride my bike, the bad news is that there won't be any dirt roads or gradients over 20% for a good couple of weeks. Fortunately, this morning's 50km in the rain had none of those things. Some of you may be aware of my obsession -- my need to find Horseshoe Falls, on the western side of Springbrook. There are two possible access routes, and some time ago, I decided to explore one of them. Since I won't be able to complete this search for a little while, now seems an opportune time to discuss my most recent progress.



This particular trip involved heading through the hills of Advancetown (an ironic name if ever I've heard one), alongside Advancetown lake. This is actually quite a pleasant ride, but one that I don't get to do very often these days. In the past it was my chosen route to get to Numinbah Valley, but today I was using it only as an access route for Chesters Road, which is one of the two possible access points I mentioned above. Chesters Road itself is an extremely scenic dirt road which isn't actually as steep as Google maps suggest it should be. Today there was a bonus, an unseasonal display of Banksias.





The road "ends" after a few kilometres, replaced by a dirt track that continues up the mountain. Here, I could see the falls in the distance, but I still needed to find a way to get to them. I continued up the mountain, the number of spider webs I rode through suggested not many venture in this direction. A few tracks branched off mine, and I did take the time to explore a couple of them, but none of them led the way to where I wanted to go. The views did open up at times on the higher areas. Eventually, the "main track" that I was following became impassable on the bike, so I continued on foot for a while. Time constraints, along with the time I had wasted on the side tracks meant that this wasn't a viable option today, but a pink ribbon tied around a tree suggests that this route has potential on another day.







All that was left now was the ride home, after descending the "track" and Chesters Road, I now had two options -- the return via the way I came, or the climb up the western side of Springbrook on the infamous Pine Creek Road, complete with 24% gradients. I opted for Pine Creek Road for the variety, and this ride, too, didn't seem as difficult as I thought it might with one climb in my legs already. At one stage on the climb I could see the falls (now that I knew where to look). Of course, riding home this way provided it's own scenic rewards.



I am close to fulfilling this particular obsession. I have now pinpointed the exact location of the falls, and may have unearthed a potential access route when time and my shoulder get around to co-operating. This is going to happen, one way or another.