Tewantin leaves you wantin’ more
Bruce and I had a couple of days at Noosa during the school holidays. On one of those days, we went mtbing in Tewantin State Forest. Three of the trails (Turn 10, Snake and Bloodwood) are among the best I’ve ridden in SEQ. Love riding there, and I will go back again as soon as I can!
Tewantin mtb from ademack on Vimeo.
Bruce & Andrew go for a ride in Tewantin State Forest
Bike Snob NYC: To Whom It May Concern: Letting Things Take Care of Themselves
Bike Snob NYC: To Whom It May Concern: Letting Things Take Care of Themselves.
I don’t ride my bike into the city during rush hour because I’m “concerned with the environment;” I do it because pretending I’m riding down the gullet of a giant salmon on a spring day is awesome, and sitting in traffic for two hours listening to terrestrial radio and then trying to find parking sucks. Being human and doing what makes you truly happy makes the world better; being “concerned” yields two toxic by-products: religion, and smugness.
So if I advocate anything (which really I don’t, since who the hell am I anyway?), it’s doing what makes you happy.
BikeSnobNYC captures one of my key points about cycling advocacy. Being worthy and green and all that stuff is (probably) fine. But I ride a bike ‘cos I like riding a bike. It’s fun and I like having fun. Every day!
Otway pix

These two pix show me absolutely caning it on the singletrack during the Otway Odyssey. There isn’t a pic of me trudging slowly up a very steep climb, but there was plenty of both during the nearly 8 hours that I was on the event.

And just for fun, here’s a close-up from the first photo above. Scary!

By the way … this chick rocks

OK, so you’ve not ridden a mountain bike in a serious race before? OK, so you’re in pre-season training before you go back to Europe. Fair enough.
OK, so according to you, you suck at riding single track. Sure, sure.
OK, so as part of your pre-season, you enter the Australian National Road Race championships, and solo off the front for seven laps of a 10.2 km course, just to get some hard kms into your legs.
And at the Otway Odyssey, against Australia’s finest and best prepared mountain bikers, you ride away on the fire roads to win by over five minutes.
And by the looks of this photo at the finish line, you would barely blow out a candle.
Judith Arndt, you rock.
(Those with long memories will remember Judith finished with a silver medal in the Athens Olympics road race behind our very own Sara Carrigan. On that occasion she was so angry about the exclusion of her partner Petra Rossner from the German team that she gave a single finger salute as she crossed the line, aimed at German Olympic selectors, apparently, but there for all the world to see. This is a woman with attitude.)
An Odyssey: the quest for perfect flowing singletrack
Where to begin with the Otway Odyssey?
Perhaps it began just after the 2009 Epic back in August, when I was looking around for my next challenge? Or perhaps it really began after a friend did the 50km version of the Otway in February 2009, and told me stories about how hard the hills were and how beautiful was the scenery and forest.
Whenever it began, I’ve spent quite a few months physically and mentally preparing myself for this event, which happened last Saturday. If you want to know more stats about how I went than I have ever seen for any other event, then here they are.
The stats do tell a revealing story. They show that I started reasonably well, and had a really tough time in the middle of the event, and finished strong (or to be more accurate, I finished more strongly than many of those around me).
But the emotions I experienced throughout the event are what will stay with me as a lasting memory. Early on the voice in my head was saying stuff like ‘stay calm’, ‘get your race face on’ and ‘work hard’. But it wasn’t long before my internal conversations were getting pretty down.
We had made it over the top of the biggest hills, but the fire roads which followed had lots of short sharp hills that were just killing my legs. I was well short of halfway through the event and wondering how I could get through to the end. The first singletrack section had a long long descent (which was great fun) followed by a long long long climb (not so much fun).
By the time I reached the halfway mark I was occasionally contemplating pulling out before the finish. I knew that the race would go through the finish arena (Forrest football oval) twice (at 67km and 87km) before the 100km mark. And I was thinking that this race was simply too hard for me.
So the first time through the finish I filled up my hydration pack, ate some food, and didn’t give myself any time to think. I just got back on the bike and rode on. Only a couple of km later I was once again having a bad time, and I was off the bike walking up a hill that I would usually ride without a second thought.
But then over the next few kilometres something changed. It must have been a long flowing section of singletrack that did it. I got into the flow and I enjoyed it. I found that somehow I could ride up hills again. I could ride fast again. I could stand up and power over little rises, and not have to change into my lowest gear. Mountain biking became fun again. I started to pass other riders.
I got back into the transition area for the second time in a totally different mind-set. ‘Let’s get on and finish this thing’ was what I heard myself say.
And I did. The last hills still hurt like hell. When you’ve been riding your mountain bike for seven hours, every extra effort just means more suffering. But by that stage of the event I knew I was going to finish, and that’s what got me to the end.
A km or so from the end on a smooth dirt road, a fellow competitor passed me. I didn’t feel like chasing, but when we turned the corner into the football field, I rode up beside him. “Feel like a sprint finish?” I said. And so we smashed it into the finish, getting a good cheer from the crowd.
The overwhelming feeling that I have at the end of a mountain bike enduro is always relief at having finished. I always know that it is very far from being a certainty that just because I’ve trained hard and prepared well that I’m going to finish.
On my mental list of events I’ve done, the Otway Odyssey gets the tag of hard but beautiful. I reached my personal limit when it comes to hill-climbing. But on the same day I reached a new state of being “in the flow” on singletrack that I don’t think I’ve had before.
It’s an on-going adventure, this mountain biking stuff. The combination of how much fun it is and how hard it is, is what keeps me interested. I don’t know what’s next in mountain biking for me, but I’m sure those two components will be part of it.
My result:
| Total Time | 7:57:19 |
| Overall Plc. | 389 / 704 |
| Category Placing | 82 / 179 |
| Gender Placing | 366 / 656 |
| Average Pace: | 12.57 km/hr (100.00 km) |
Ready or not, here it comes
Had a very good weekend on the bike, so now I’ve done all that will be done. This week is just about spinning the legs around, taking it pretty easy, and hopefully freshening up for the coming Otway Odyssey.
Saturday morning was a great road ride with Group 1 of the South Bank bunch, down to Wynnum via Cleveland. The pace was on early, and we shed a couple of riders over Camp Hill. Then it ramped up further as we got a bit tangled up with a small group of four which was slightly faster than our group. Anyway it all mixed in together from Belmont out through Alexandra Hills.
By the time we wound it up on the Wynnum Esplanade I was feeling like my form was as good as it’s ever been. Got swamped in the sprint, but it was fun anyway.
On Sunday afternoon Bruce and I went for a spin in Daisy Hill quite late. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the trails were well-attended. Quite a few times we had to give other riders a head start on trails so as not to catch them halfway along a singletrack section. The Haro felt good, my timing seemed good.
So as quite a few of my friends take on Grafton-Inverell, I will be slogging up a monster climb on my mountain bike. It’s going to hurt, and its going to be great. You can’t have one without the other!
Southside Rats’ Summer Cup
It’s only a couple of weeks to go until the Otway Odyssey. As I’ve been saying in emails to people, I’m slightly terrified. The course profile tells why …

But I am also excited.
So our wonderful back-to-the-70s summer weather has been a bit of a dampener on my training schedule. Last weekend was supposed to be a hard weekend’s training, with two hard rides on Saturday and a long steady ride on Sunday.
Well as it turned out, I got the hard training ride Saturday morning (with the SBB group 1 to Redcliffe and back, about 90-ish km), and that was just about it.
The second ride for Saturday was to be the first round of the Summer Cup, a cross-country mountain bike race being run by my mountain-bike club, the Southside Rats.
And it was belting down by the time we were due to start. I said to several people that I didn’t fancy the whole thing … getting covered in muck, with the very real prospect of either falling off and damaging myself, or damaging my bike.
Well, the second thing happened. I made it through almost a lap. But the bike’s now at Flashing Pedals getting seen to as a result.
And Sunday? The long steady ride was a washout. So if I haven’t done enough hard work before the Otway, then that’s just going to mean more pain on the day. I can cope.
Look, shiny!

E’s got a spectacular new Bianchi … wow factor is through the roof!
New & shiny always catches my attention. In the past two weeks three of my friends have bought new bikes.
That’s not unusual really. There’s always a lot of upgrading going around, especially among the mid-life crisis crowd that I mostly ride with. As a sports-car substitute, a carbon-fibre framed road bike is probably cheaper and less hazardous to your health and your licence than say, a Lotus Elise.
And I love it when my friends get these new bikes. The buzz of it all. The excitement of making the decision to upgrade (or even the decision to buy your first serious road bike or mountain bike). The delicious agony of which bike to buy, which trick bits to get which will make the bike indelibly “yours”, tiny detail decisions about elements such as saddles, seatposts, right down to water bottle cages and handlebar tape. And the final thrill, showing off the new bike to mates on its first couple of rides.
But new & shiny only gets you moving for a short time, I think. Even the shiniest, newest, blingiest bike eventually becomes just your road bike, or your mountain bike. I have a beautiful road bike … its frame is made of titanium, for goodness sake. But do I even notice the Enigma when I’m riding 95% of the time? Not so much.
But even so, there’s something motivating about this newness & shininess. Perhaps its the commitment to training and improving your cycling that’s embodied in the purchase. Nobody wants to be that bloke who bought an expensive bike which now just sits in the shed, its flat tyres mocking him every time he goes to fetch a screwdriver or spanner.
So bravo to my friends on the new bikes! I hope to spend many hours riding with you enjoying your new purchases. And one day, but not anytime soon, I will rejoin the ranks of those who purchase new bicycles.
Some days are diamonds …
I had a great weekend, on and off the bike. It’s Tuesday now but I’m still buzzing about how good the weekend was.
The road-bike riding bit, first.
Saturday, OMG-its-very-early. A group of the South Bank bunch meets at BWL’s place, loads into three cars and heads down to Canungra, for an assault on O’Reillys (Green Mountains is the proper placename, but its universally known as O’Reillys).
The ride to O’Reillys is about 35 km: 10km to the base of the climb, a steady 13km climb to the next landmark, the alpaca farm, then a plateau section before the road kicks up again through rainforest to the guest-house and Lamington NP camping ground.
What to do on Sunday afternoons
Go for a spin in Daisy Hill state forest with some mates. Keep the rubber side down, as far as possible.





