Well planned, well executed, well worth it. The 2009 Otway was talked up by many and feared by all. It certainly is due its badge as the toughest yet most enjoyable 100km enduro going around.

 

A mix of 16 Otway ‘veterans’ and Otway newbies rabbled together this year and made the trip down to the south of Victoria, 700kms from Adelaide. The other 1600 odd riders came from all corners of Aus, even a few Kiwis.

 

100kms, 2000 odd metres of climbing and 1700 brave souls. These numbers don’t tell the whole story. In the lead up, preparation was key, and some brought the locks too, others tried their best to squeeze in rides when they could, as long as they could, to give some sort of indication of what was to come. Boys became men, waistlines reduced, rides became longer and more frequent, some even entered road races and spreadsheets with dubious handicapping processes inviting comments and gambling were sent around.

 

Jeff, Pete, Nick, Heath, Joe, Mark, Dan, Hamish, Ollie, Erik and Col made their own way down to Forest in Vic (the finish point) to the accommodation, other halves and families (where applicable) in tow. Planes, trains, automobiles and campervans, everyone got there somehow. “Welcome aboard's”, “you got the crap room”, pasta cramming and last minute bike ‘tweaking’ formed the night before. With babies and dogs on location, a restful night’s sleep was not guaranteed nor provided.

 

5.30am race day and those of us not already awake in bed, scared of not waking on time, woke up. Zombies in lycra wandered the halls of the accom, tucking into their own secret breakfast weapon of choice. Some kept it simple, others complex. The day would tell who was the smarter Breakfasteer.

 

With the girls (thanks Girls) driving us down to Apollo Bay (the start of the race), we took off just past 6am to drive 30 odd kms. As we drove down the mountain to the sea, I’m sure it hit us all that we would soon be coming back up, the hard way, powered by our own engines.

 

I doubt the town had ever been this busy at 7am. Seas of MTBers, event organisers and tired, p1ssed off partners standing around surrounded us. Fast forward to start line and the ‘Unfit’ group had broken up into whatever spots they could cram themselves into. Pete and I hung out for the first stretch.

 

Its go, an audible barrage of clipping-in replaces the yawning and we’re off, a nice flat road to start but not for long, we turn sharp left off road and the climbing begins…

 

That first climb and the one's following it all merged into one. Heart in mouth, legs burning, mental toll, neverending crests, that was the intro to the Otway. Respect to all.

 

Mixing it up with Jeff and Pete was good for the next 30kms. At times we’d lose each other, other times we would ride together. After a big descent and picking off many roadies, the hills started again, the lads disappeared up as I settled into my own pace, content in the knowledge that there was much more race to come. After 10-15kms of good singletrack, the cramps bit, hard. 50kms into the race, the earliest entry of the nemesis ever, I was left on the side of the track, performing the rigamortis routine and trying desperately to stretch them out. Nick whizzed past me, riding strong, a few other Adelaideans also went past. After a while, normal muscle function returned and I got back on the bike and pedaled. The timebomb had started ticking.

 

I rode on with my new rev limiter, great trails gave back a lot of the enjoyment thanks to downhills, flow and momentum. The trails approaching Forest really are fantastic, I can’t believe the quality and diversity of the singletracks there, for such a remote area. Well designed and cut trails that flowed, every uphill was rewarded with a downhill, nothing slowed you down too much. Plenty of whoops, whooshes and berms to keep you smiling and on your toes. Plenty of Roadies to get in your way on the technical sections. At about 70kms, a singlespeeder came past, I latched onto him and followed him as long as I could, he was really holding his own on the technical stuff. I let him go at first sight of a prolonged uphill and then the cramps came back. Repeat all same ritual as before, watch riders previously passed catch up and go ahead. Kain came past and we both looked at each other in disbelief, a funny moment. Once the cramps subsided, I got back on and made my way to the oval pass-through, signaling 15 –odd km to go, After so many kms of singletrack in and around the vicinity, I began thinking about the relief of only 15kms more of the same to come. I imagine the entire group thought the same, and most of the 1700 riders too, how wrong we were…

 

Throughout the course, many individual tracks had names signposted just before you entered them, some with quirky names, others more apt. Names such as ‘Red Carpet ride’ ‘ 3^rd time lucky’, ‘sledgehammer’ and ‘dontyouwishyourgirlfriendwashotlikeme’ gave an indication of what was to come. Exiting the oval 15kms to go, a momentary period on bitumen, the track turned upwards onto dirt, ‘Britney’s Meltdown’ had begun.

 

Its understandable that at this stage of the race, everything will be harder due to fatigue, but…this climb just went on and on, so unexpectantly with numerous false crests. Everytime you thought “ this is it, one last grind up to this crest and then it’ll be flat, or downhill again” it just didn’t happen, every crest conquered brought on the sight on a new, more punishing hill to climb. Part way up, you could see the riders coming out of the singletrack in the forest beside, coming out to go down to the finish. This sight in itself gave false hope of a top not so far away.

 

Finally reaching ‘the top’ a marshall greeted us and pointed into some singletrack, SINGLETRACK THAT WENT UP. For yours truly, this was not a good sign, in the latter part of climbing the hill, the cramps had started to niggle again, I had kept them at bay by dropping to lowest gear and just keeping the legs spinning, a technical climb or worse, having to get off and walk, was sure to bring them on. Nostrodamus I am, I couldn’t get up the hill so dismounted, the cramps bit and I was onto my 3^rd interlude (as I now like to call them). After a while, they subsided, I stretched and pushed to the top of the hill.

 

The last part of the track was fun, but by this stage just in the way of a lie down, water, beer, shower and food. I don’t remember much of it, but I know it was mainly downhill. Crossing the finish line was magic and I was greeted by fellow racers who had finished and partners who had set up camp to watch the brave souls come through. All in our group did well for different reasons. I still take my hat off to Mark the most, what a transformation and serious determination, well done mate.

 

In the end, I know everyone was pleased with their times and no one said a flat out NO! to doing it again. In the gentlemen’s war between Jeff and Pete, they are now 1 win apiece; bring on Otway 2010, the decider.

 

 

A few pix here - > unfitracing.com/pages/gallery/otway-09.php