Spectator Ride Report Tour Down Under Stage 4 - The MCCT

[Dougie]

The Mutual Community Challenge Tour and Stage 4 – Norwood to Strathalbyn
We gathered in a throng at the appointed hour, sporting a “wee” coloured jersey that reminded me of the time I spent as a urine sample collector in a Munich Beer Hall during Oktoberfest, but that story’s for another day……

Whilst this year’s jersey fitted and the jersey size vaguely correlated to the advertised size, clearly the colour made it a wear once only and then relegate to the indoor trainer, kit drawer. It’s a pity, as last year’s blue was nice, it’s just the size was inversely proportionate to the capacious nature of the supplied garment. In other words they were way too effing big.

Billed as a scenic little jaunt with a few friends through the picturesque Adelaide Hills, I though “this is for me”! After completing last year’s version in appallingly hot conditions I couldn’t wait for this year to roll around. Weighing in at 8 Kilos lighter and a year fitter I figured that bastard KOM hill that beat me last year at the 600m to go mark would be toast this year.

I assembled with about five thousand hardy riders at 5.30 am on Friday morning. It was a pleasant 19 degrees and overcast, perfect weather. The gun went off and away we went. The start although organised, was a zoo. I have learned that the smart ones now leave at 5.30 beating everyone to the punch and not battling the nuff nuffs that though they might just give it a crack without so much as a quick pump of the tyres and a wipe over the chain with an oily cloth.

Alison G and my Gold Coast chum Chris decided that the 91Km ride from Gumeracha, missing the Gorge Rd and the KOM, was a better plan. Having seen them both in action I am sure they could have done the lot, however it is important to note that this is a stage of a UCI pro tour and not a couple of hot laps around Centennial with the Bunch on a lazy Saturday Morning. Having suffered first hand last year, there is nothing soft about this ride.

The ride to the base of the Gorge Road was busy and slow. I reckon I averaged about 17kph for the first thirty mins. Once we turned right and headed up Gorge Rd the slower began to fall, literally by the wayside. The Gorge road is a beautiful piece of bitumen. We cycled on it for 21km, climbing from 75m above sea level to 350m above sea level. Most of the climb is gently rolling hills; there are a few 8 percenters that quite literally knocked people over. One moment they are upright the next they simply stopped and took out two or three others domino style as they went down. Pride appeared to be the only injuries.

Soon after turning off the Gorge Rd the “chicken chute” was sign posted. If you didn’t wish to face the wrath of the KOM then you could miss it and a bunch of other hills and proceed directly to Gumeracha. More than a handful were taking this option. Probably not a bad idea if you haven’t trained! The 5 KM to the KOM sign flashed past (I was riding quickly), the countdown began. The markers from 5 to 1KM to go were along a basically flat rode that would no doubt have lulled the novice into a false sense of security, “ha, I have ridden 4 of the 5 k’s of the KOM, without even breaking a sweat, I am on fire!” Dear reader, your correspondent knew what was to come. At the 1KM mark there was a Marshall, hollering (of course) “walkers to the left, rider to the right”. To most I think they thought “well, I am on a bike I must be a rider”. Clearly, they didn’t bother looking up. If they had they could not have failed to notice that the road appeared to move from the x axis to the y axis in a somewhat steep parabolic arc. Put simply the road pointed to the sky. In the previous couple of hundred metres I had moved from the big ring to the small. I ride a compact crank set and was fully prepared to beat this hill, or so I thought. I hit the bottom of the hill with about nine hundred to go, stood up and really gave it to the pedals. The 800 and 600 markers fell away behind me, but by god it was getting tough. My computer read a ludicrously steep 20%. I was keen to keep going but I was tiring. In front and behind riders where falling everywhere. A few even rolled backward a metre or so prior to taking out a few on their way to the tarmac. Serious contenders keep to the right, along with those who were never in the running. A lot of expensive carbon fibre was getting scratched. At the 400 to go marker I was blowing up. Tunnel vision was setting in and the world was going grey round the edges. I got off at the right moment. I reckon another turn or so and I would have been one of the statistics. I wasn’t happy; the bastard hill beat me again!

I suffered the indignity of the very attractive Devil Girl pitying me as I huffed and puffed past her. At the top, once my heart rate had fallen below 137% of maximum I prepared to remount my treadly only to find that my front derailleur was bent and I was still in the big ring! Add to it the dose of whooping cough that had incubated nicely overnight I didn’t feel so bad about not getting to the top this year. There’s always next year!

The remaining 95K of rolling hills was a world of hurt with only the big ring at my disposal. But I suppose that since I was wearing a “wee” coloured jersey I should be thankful that that was all that happened. The weather continued to cooperate to the point where it was hot ‘n’ sweaty on the way up and bloody cold on the way back down the other side of whatever climb you were doing. It was certainly a “hills centric” ride. I averaged 24.2kph for the full 135KM with a top speed of 68kph and according to the heart rate monitor burnt 20,000KJ. About 5K from the end I came across a nasty accident that the ambo’s were working on. She was in a pretty bad way, with plenty of bark off her and the claret running freely. In an odd twist of fate I found out she was fine after a night in the Royal Adelaide Hospital as she is the neighbour of my dinner companions the following evening, weird huh?

I texted the family with 1KM to go, rounded the corner and entered the finishing straight third wheel in the imaginary sprint train in my head. There would have been easily 5,000 people screaming support for all the finishers, these were real people as opposed the imaginary podium girls in my head at that moment. It actually made all the hair on my shoulders stand up. My kin were at the 75 meter mark yelling obscenely as I crossed the line at 42kph throwing my hand in the air lest I fall off and look right prat in front of all those people.

The Pros came through about two hours later. I don’t have the heart to correct my five year old daughter when she tells people my daddy beat Lance Armstrong in the bike race. She is technically correct; I just had a four hour head start. By that time I had eaten a box of nurofen, two pies, two chicken skewers and I was eyeing an Ibis rummaging through a bin.

On the journey home what I found astounding was the number of riders, riding the 60KM back to Adelaide. Now they are hard!
If you do nothing else in 2012, do this ride!
Stay tuned for Stage 5
Cheers Dougie

[timyone]

very attractive Devil Girl pitying me as I huffed and puffed past her.

i think you needed more info on this, maybe how you know she showed pity on you and why this was bad for your pride. But more importantly pics of the occasion, a camera phone would have done the job, we dont care the size of the hill, its no excuse.

[Stuart]

there are great reports and have certainly got me fired up for the 2012 TDU - sounds like I need to do some training ....