Tall tales
Highland Fling Enduro - Nov09 Bundanoon NSW |
| Posted by Badmin (badmin) on Nov 21 2009 |
| Tall tales >> ENDURO |
We flung the fling, along with a thousand other punters. A 100km race that’s actually 113km, a fact they are very open about advertising and proud of. Sods.
I wonder if there is a mathematical formula for measuring result against race preparation? I may ask Lach to come up with something with long division and squiggly symbols...either way, my race preparation was fairly unorthodox in comparison to all previous enduros. Flying in from Hong Kong the morning we set up the tent to unpack a bike that had to be couriered from Brisbane to Sydney is probably more familiar a story for international elite athletes. Alas for yours truly it was down to 2 weeks of work duties dashing between countries, hotels and offices. Surprisingly and thankfully, for everything that could have gone wrong, nothing did. The bike arrived unmangled, the lads got into Sydney and picked up the van without issue and with our collection of borrowed camping gear we made it down and back from the southern NSW highlands without incident (except for the race that is).
Dan, Jeff, Hamish and myself had all signed up for the Fling many many months ago. (An event that sold out in less than 6 hours... with a 1300 riders cap, that’s impressive). It promised to be a great race chock full of singletrack good times and much smaller hills than the all mighty Otway. It delivered on the majority of that. After setting up camp in relative closeness to the next mornings start line (and borrowing one man’s scissors four different times), we hit the local pub, along with everyone else and gave the sleepy town’s single pub a service nightmare. Good ol' fashioned home cooking consumed, we retired for the night.
Tannoys blaring AC/DC at 5am are much more effective than an alarm clock, it has to be said. But AC/DC to bagpipes is a guaranteed way to wake 1300 dozing punters and their support crews. The feeble alarm chime on my phone didn’t stand a chance. With very little ado we were up and about, looking for coffee and food to stuff down our throats...race day prep had begun. Kudos to Dan for getting the coffees and whilst away, unsure of where Dan was, Jeff headed off to do the same. I stayed to mind the fort and enjoy the rewards of them both wandering back, less than 5 mins apart, with 3 coffees in hand only to realise what they had done.
The start order was interesting -mass start except Elites who went 30mins after us, weird. In the crowd I found Jeff, Dan was nowhere to be seen, no doubt chatting to the Elites.
For the first time, Jeff and I rode together a fair portion of the way. It was bloody good to have a pace checker and we both managed a reasonable but not silly pace. The course took us through roads, paddocks, creeks, state forest and complete bush. A lot of fireroad was involved but with 113km of distance to cover , the cheap kms were welcomed. All of the singletrack was great, not mind bending, but good fun with good flow.
About 15kms in whilst still in the main pack and rolling on some sheep trails, a thunderous torrent of MTBers came descending from the left to join the main pack. My first thoughts were that they were the Elites whom had been sent a different way, but once in earshot, I learnt different. These were the first of the pack, a group of 30 maybe that thundered off the line to get away from the Muppets. Difficulty was, near that spot, they had gone the wrong way, only to discover their error and have to backtrack, wasting time and of course, then having to rejoin the main group and fight their way through the Muppets to get back to the front. Part of me had a chuckle...
Up to the 60km feed station Jeff and I rode together, stopping twice to stretch and sort mechanicals. At the 60km, my cramps were coming on and I had to stop, letting Jeff roll on solo. Preventative maintenance is now the name of my game and I have softened my stubbornness, changing tactics to stop and stretch at first signs of cramp, instead of waiting for paralysis. As always they stamped their authority all over the second half of the race, but we’ve all heard about this before.
The course had some mean waterbar laden descents, real brake check and lean back type stuff. Apart from my own moments, I saw many get fairly loose on them. Unfortunately, rounding a corner I came upon a fresh crash site, one guy down and another looking worried. A chap had crashed into a rock wall and knocked himself out; he was just coming to when I got there. The other lad (Andrew) had seen it unfold and stopped to help, but like all of us, had no clue what to do. Together we did our best to do the right things, keep him comfortable, ask his name etc. He was bleeding from the front and rear of his head, we daren’t take the helmet off. This chap was staring at us like we weren’t there. As Andrew ran up the hill quite some way to get mobile reception, I stayed with the chap (Luke) to ensure he didn’t wander into oncoming riders, he was completely spaced. Eventually, Andrew came back, no joy with reception, so we told passing bikers to inform the next course marshal they see of the incident. Time past and the chap was slowly coming back to reality, stringing sentences together and wondering what happened. Eventually two 4wd marshals rolled up and took over. Andrew and I passed on the story said cheerio to Luke and got back into the race.
Shortly after that Andrew had dropped off to his own pace and I went about the task of winding in the last 30 or so kms whilst keeping cramps in check. A few fellow riders passed me salt tablets, these did nothing.
There was some good singletrack in this course, but probably not enough to compensate for the open fireroad. As much as I was thankful at the time of the easier fireroad sections, there was too much to stamp this as a ‘must do’ ride. It was good and if you lived in Sydney, one for the yearly event calendar, but not for interstate travellers.
With 90kms past, approx 20km to go and starting to loop back round to where we started from, vaguely familiar sights and markers became apparent. Doing the same hills in reverse really brought home how much different a track can be when you are knackered. I had latched onto a group of three riders that had all randomly banded together due to similar pace. It made for some entertainment, banter and a good distraction from the exertion until Bam! Chain snap from one bloke (a Clydesdale) made the group stop. Clydesdale had had enough, refused all help and told us to go on whilst he waited for the cleanup bus. I flung him a quick link and told him to harden up. He was taking his time moaning and groaning about it so two of us rolled on with less than 10kms to go.
“What can they put us through that they haven’t already?” I repeatedly asked myself as I rode in sight of the split in the track named ‘Your Call’ , a fork in the trail promising ‘difficult but short’ to the left or ‘easier but longer’ to the right. The difference was only 500metres and so, cramps at bay, I headed left while the other fella headed right. It wasn’t actually that bad! and my choice was vindicated as I got through and out the top way ahead of the other bloke.
The computer read 109kms and I was on the last stretch to the finish. Bloody good feeling. I crossed the line at 6hr 54mins looking around for Jeff, expecting a smug face and stories of sub 5hr 30min time. Hamish came over and we had a natter on our respective experiences, he really enjoyed the 50km and wished he’d done 100km I’m sure he said. After a while Jeff came over, well in before me but surprisingly by not as much as I (and he) would have thought. The countdown was on for Dan. Based on Dan’s recent training regime, threats of divorce by other half, rides of tenure that nearly saw him end up on the side of a milk carton and general all round improvement, we weren’t expecting to wait long. In fact when I crossed the line I was half expecting to see him. But...this wasn’t to be the race that displayed the fruits of Dan's labour. For one reason or another (I say overtraining) Dan rolled in later than any of us expected, including him. But luckily like all of us with no major mechanical or injury incidents, therefore a good day out riding irrespective of what the clock says.
Job done, war stories exchanged and a cold beer to wash away the pains we packed up the tents and loaded the van for the seemingly long drive back to Sydney (longer if you are in the middle seat). Cheers to Hamish and Simon for the loan of all the camping gear and to the lads for arranging van, beer and food whilst I hung out in another country.
Not sure if any of us non-Newsouthwelshmen will do the Fling again, for the Reward vs travelling hassle as mentioned before, but it is a good race and well organised with a great little country town backing it.
Link to ride data here.
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/18594961
Last changed: Nov 26 2009 at 1:25 PM
Back