I want to write about my weekend at Phillip Island, but I'm in two minds about the whole motorsport thing - not to spoil a good story, but I blew a hole in the engine block late on Sunday afternoon.
And I'm up for a HEFTY repair bill. Well, that's not right - I'm up for a replacement bill: the engine isn't repairable.
So I'm in a crappy mood ringing around to find out the best place to source a new engine.
And when I feel a bit better in a few days, or if my numbers come up in the next Tattslotto super draw, I'll write all about the weekend. Maybe it will be a cathartic experience.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
World's laziest?
I reckon I'm in the running for the world's laziest blogger ... maybe there are others that write less than I do, but they're probably resting comfortably in a cemetery somewhere.
I'm going to Phillip Island for a regularity event this weekend, so if you're all very lucky I'll have a massive off which will give me something to write about!!
For those that think I'm heading for a weekend of prune & bran eating ... this is a different type of regularity. It's a motorsport event, and I spend the weekend, as part of a team of four, doing laps of the circuit at Phillip Island.
Saturday is practice day - at the end of which each team member has to nominate both dry & wet times.
Sunday is the event, and the team that does the most laps as close to their nominated times, is the winner. One member of the team has to be on the track at all times, and there are minimum and maximum times that each driver has to meet.
But it's not as easy as just driving laps.
Say it rains .... it might take a few minutes before the track is declared wet (and your slower, wet time applies) - but the track is already wet and you have to slow down a little to compensate. And in the other direction - when it stops raining, there is a "no man's land" between the track being declared dry (and faster times applying) and it actually drying out.
In a Tarmac Rally, such as Targa Tasmania, it's unusual to see another car on a competition stage - we head off at 30 second intervals, so if I catch someone I'm going much faster, pass them, and that's it. The same if someone catches me - they appear as a dot in the rear view mirror, then they're on your back bumper, you let them pass (it's the rule) and they're gone.
I don't do lot of circuit driving, and when I do, it's usually a Club practice day: the field is seeded so that we're all in groups of similar pace. That way, in a 15 minute session you may pass or be passed once.
This event is different - there is fast traffic and slow traffic - all on the track at the same time. So I'll be passing & passed on a regular basis for the weekend. Should be fun (?)
Regardless, I'll be aiming to keep it on the black for the weekend.
I'm going to Phillip Island for a regularity event this weekend, so if you're all very lucky I'll have a massive off which will give me something to write about!!
For those that think I'm heading for a weekend of prune & bran eating ... this is a different type of regularity. It's a motorsport event, and I spend the weekend, as part of a team of four, doing laps of the circuit at Phillip Island.
Saturday is practice day - at the end of which each team member has to nominate both dry & wet times.
Sunday is the event, and the team that does the most laps as close to their nominated times, is the winner. One member of the team has to be on the track at all times, and there are minimum and maximum times that each driver has to meet.
But it's not as easy as just driving laps.
Say it rains .... it might take a few minutes before the track is declared wet (and your slower, wet time applies) - but the track is already wet and you have to slow down a little to compensate. And in the other direction - when it stops raining, there is a "no man's land" between the track being declared dry (and faster times applying) and it actually drying out.
In a Tarmac Rally, such as Targa Tasmania, it's unusual to see another car on a competition stage - we head off at 30 second intervals, so if I catch someone I'm going much faster, pass them, and that's it. The same if someone catches me - they appear as a dot in the rear view mirror, then they're on your back bumper, you let them pass (it's the rule) and they're gone.
I don't do lot of circuit driving, and when I do, it's usually a Club practice day: the field is seeded so that we're all in groups of similar pace. That way, in a 15 minute session you may pass or be passed once.
This event is different - there is fast traffic and slow traffic - all on the track at the same time. So I'll be passing & passed on a regular basis for the weekend. Should be fun (?)
Regardless, I'll be aiming to keep it on the black for the weekend.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The Etape's real hero
On (my) last climb of the Etape, the Col de Notre-Dame des Abeilles (which I think translates to something like the mountain pass of Our Lady the Queen Bee) I passed a woman slowly riding to the top.
I noticed her for a number of reasons .....
It's a male dominated sport, so you tend to notice when someone of the opposite sex is cycling. As a side issue, I have to say I was quite disappointed to find out the Las Vegas Lesbians were in fact from Vancouver .. It's not at all alliterative, but regardless of where they were from, they were great bike riders - I rode & chatted with Nicole (the short one) for a couple of hours during the Etape, until she dropped me on the climb into Sault;
This woman was wearing an all red outfit, so even amongst the peacock parade that is road cycling, she (sort of) stood out; for what's it's worth, my wife thinks all cyclists are either colour blind or can't co-ordinate.
At the start of the day, I was mixing it on the road with 9,500 other lunatics. When I passed her, maybe half way up Abeilles, we were at the tail of the ride, so there weren't many people around.
Mid 40's, sort of attractive (I wonder if she thought the same about me?), and doing it tough on the climb.
I didn't really think about her again until a couple of hours later.
There I was, on the laughing bus, somewhere in the traffic jam between Bedoin and Chalet Reynard (which is just after the road passes the tree line for those of you who watched the stage on TV) when, still plodding along, she slowly cycled passed the bus.
When we eventually started to move we passed her, but soon after we had to stop again, and she passed us. We overtook her a second time, then the traffic cleared and we were on our way to the top of Ventoux.
I didn't really think about her again until I passed her while I was descending (like a lunatic) to Malacuene.
It had taken me 5 hours to get from Bedoin to that point. Three and a half of them sitting on a bus, 90 minutes or so watching trucks being unloaded (and I had a beer while I was waiting). I don't know if she stopped, I don't know if she got off her bike and pushed it in the steep sections (lots of people did), I don't know if she had a beer at the place near the top of Ventoux (it was very good beer) but do I know she got to the top, maybe very slowly, but under her own steam.
Well done!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Corsican salade dressing
For my last proper meal before the long schlepp home (and endless airline meals), I'm eating in a tiny Corsican place here in Avignon: Mamma Corse.
I'm being attended to by, I'm guessing, Mamma herself. As I said it's a tiny place.
This evening I've formulated a new rule of dining: never order a wine that costs less than the average main course.
The Corsican rose` (sorry, can't get the accent working on this keyboard) I'm drinking is vile, but then it's only €12 for a bottle. Mains are €15 to 17. Maybe if it gets a little colder in the wine bucket it'll improve.
The salade was brilliant, with a wonderful, fragrant & sweet dressing. I need to learn how to say "how do you make this salade dressing?" as part of my ongoing French language studies.
And for Sir's main course: Le Poulet Farci (the c needs one of those underneath comas) - a baked chicken breast, stuffed with chevre and wrapped in ham. Nothing better than three animals all contributing to one plate, accompanied by polenta and roast eggplant.
Excellent. Ce Bon! Parfait!
I can't fit desert (how do they say "would Sir care for just one little wafer?" in Corsica?) and regrettably the wine hasn't improved as it's gotten colder.
But a great meal.
I'm being attended to by, I'm guessing, Mamma herself. As I said it's a tiny place.
This evening I've formulated a new rule of dining: never order a wine that costs less than the average main course.
The Corsican rose` (sorry, can't get the accent working on this keyboard) I'm drinking is vile, but then it's only €12 for a bottle. Mains are €15 to 17. Maybe if it gets a little colder in the wine bucket it'll improve.
The salade was brilliant, with a wonderful, fragrant & sweet dressing. I need to learn how to say "how do you make this salade dressing?" as part of my ongoing French language studies.
And for Sir's main course: Le Poulet Farci (the c needs one of those underneath comas) - a baked chicken breast, stuffed with chevre and wrapped in ham. Nothing better than three animals all contributing to one plate, accompanied by polenta and roast eggplant.
Excellent. Ce Bon! Parfait!
I can't fit desert (how do they say "would Sir care for just one little wafer?" in Corsica?) and regrettably the wine hasn't improved as it's gotten colder.
But a great meal.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
A long day (with a pic)
I tackled the Etape today.
4 am out of bed, left the hotel at 5, and we were in the start village of Montelimar around 6.
The event started at 7, but we were sent off in groups of about 1,000 - I was 7017 and rolled over the start line at 7:30, with the cut off vehicle leaving about 15 minutes later - you have to stay in front or hand in your transponder.
Riding with that many people was amazing, although a little hairy on the narrow roads getting out of town.
I had a flat on the first descent (25k in) then problems with my pump that saw me riding 30k or so with a half flat front.
And I worked out how to take a leak without getting off the bike - just make sure you aim away from your bidons!
The next couple of hours went well. And I was holding my target average pace of mid to high 20's. Mid teens on the climbs, 50 to 60 on the descents.
In every village we passed it seemed the entire population was out, clapping as we passed, calling out "Allez!" and "Bravo!". Every farmhouse had someone sitting in a chair on the roadside waving and cheering.
But it was hot - the temperature was mid 30's for most of the day - and I didn't have any electrolyte replacement powder (long story, but basically I made a dumb mistake - I've been training hard in cool & cold weather and I simply didn't think to bring any).
On the third climb of the day (up to Aurel) I started struggling, and despite being hosed down by a local in the village near the top and a wild 60+k descent I was pretty much stuffed.
I was pouring the water in, but it felt like it was just sitting there, sloshing around in my stomach.
And I was sick of the taste of carbo gels and powerbars - they're too sweet if you're not eating anything else.
The next climb - Col De Notre Damme Des Abeilles - knocked me about. It was a tough climb with two false summits - you think you've reached the top, descend for a km or so, and it starts to climb again; twice. After another great descent (10k at 55 to 65 on empty wide sweeping roads) I crawled into Bedouin maybe 5 minutes ahead of the cut off time.
I had to make a decision: tackle 21k of Mt. Ventox, or pull the pin. I didn't want to spend the next two hours looking over my shoulder for the cut off car. OK, perhaps I could have handed in my timing chip and finished outside the allotted time, but I just didn't think I had the climb left in me.
I pulled over, leant my bike against a wall and walked into the nearest cafe for a beer.
They reckon 30% don't finish; unfortunately I became part of that statistic.
Riding finished, but .....
I put my bike on truck and the climbed on the sad bus. Which then took three and a half hours to climb the 21k to the summit (the finish village was on the other side, and there is only one road up).
Here's something you might be able to guess for yourself - 50 blokes who've ridden 150k in the scorching heat all sitting in a confined space don't smell very nice.
At the finish village we were treated to some very French logistics. They refused to unload more than one truck at a time; and despite truck 4 (that had my bike) arriving ahead of truck 2, truck 2 had to be unloaded first.
90 minutes after arriving at the finish village I was finally back in the saddle for a brilliant 20k run down the mountain to meet the tour company's bus.
A shower, dinner, a couple of glasses of local Rose (quite nice) and I'm off to bed.
And the mountain will still be here next time I'm in Provence, so maybe next time I'll give the Giant a better showing.
4 am out of bed, left the hotel at 5, and we were in the start village of Montelimar around 6.
The event started at 7, but we were sent off in groups of about 1,000 - I was 7017 and rolled over the start line at 7:30, with the cut off vehicle leaving about 15 minutes later - you have to stay in front or hand in your transponder.
Riding with that many people was amazing, although a little hairy on the narrow roads getting out of town.
I had a flat on the first descent (25k in) then problems with my pump that saw me riding 30k or so with a half flat front.
And I worked out how to take a leak without getting off the bike - just make sure you aim away from your bidons!
The next couple of hours went well. And I was holding my target average pace of mid to high 20's. Mid teens on the climbs, 50 to 60 on the descents.
In every village we passed it seemed the entire population was out, clapping as we passed, calling out "Allez!" and "Bravo!". Every farmhouse had someone sitting in a chair on the roadside waving and cheering.
But it was hot - the temperature was mid 30's for most of the day - and I didn't have any electrolyte replacement powder (long story, but basically I made a dumb mistake - I've been training hard in cool & cold weather and I simply didn't think to bring any).
On the third climb of the day (up to Aurel) I started struggling, and despite being hosed down by a local in the village near the top and a wild 60+k descent I was pretty much stuffed.
I was pouring the water in, but it felt like it was just sitting there, sloshing around in my stomach.
And I was sick of the taste of carbo gels and powerbars - they're too sweet if you're not eating anything else.
The next climb - Col De Notre Damme Des Abeilles - knocked me about. It was a tough climb with two false summits - you think you've reached the top, descend for a km or so, and it starts to climb again; twice. After another great descent (10k at 55 to 65 on empty wide sweeping roads) I crawled into Bedouin maybe 5 minutes ahead of the cut off time.
I had to make a decision: tackle 21k of Mt. Ventox, or pull the pin. I didn't want to spend the next two hours looking over my shoulder for the cut off car. OK, perhaps I could have handed in my timing chip and finished outside the allotted time, but I just didn't think I had the climb left in me.
I pulled over, leant my bike against a wall and walked into the nearest cafe for a beer.
They reckon 30% don't finish; unfortunately I became part of that statistic.
Riding finished, but .....
I put my bike on truck and the climbed on the sad bus. Which then took three and a half hours to climb the 21k to the summit (the finish village was on the other side, and there is only one road up).
Here's something you might be able to guess for yourself - 50 blokes who've ridden 150k in the scorching heat all sitting in a confined space don't smell very nice.
At the finish village we were treated to some very French logistics. They refused to unload more than one truck at a time; and despite truck 4 (that had my bike) arriving ahead of truck 2, truck 2 had to be unloaded first.
90 minutes after arriving at the finish village I was finally back in the saddle for a brilliant 20k run down the mountain to meet the tour company's bus.
A shower, dinner, a couple of glasses of local Rose (quite nice) and I'm off to bed.
And the mountain will still be here next time I'm in Provence, so maybe next time I'll give the Giant a better showing.
A very long day
I tackled the Etape today.
4 am out of bed, left the hotel at 5, and we were in the start village of Montelimar around 6.
The event started at 7, but we were sent off in groups of about 7,000 - I was 7017 and rolled over the start line at 7:30, with the cut off vehicle leaving about 15 minutes later - you have to stay in front or hand in your transponder.
Riding with that many people was amazing, although a little hairy on the narrow roads getting out of town.
I had a flat on the first descent (25k in) then problems with my pump that saw me riding 30k or so with a half flat front.
And I worked out how to take a leak without getting off the bike - just make sure you aim away from your bidons!
The next couple of hours went well. And I was holding my target average pace of mid to high 20's. Mid teens on the climbs, 50 to 60 on the descents.
In every village we passed it seemed the entire population was out, clapping as we passed, calling out "Allez!" and "Bravo!". Every farmhouse had someone sitting in a chair on the roadside waving and cheering.
But it was hot - the temperature was mid 30's for most of the day - and I didn't have any electrolyte replacement powder (long story, but basically I made a dumb mistake - I've been training hard in cool & cold weather and I simply didn't think to bring any).
On the third climb of the day (up to Aurel) I started struggling, and despite being hosed down by a local in the village near the top and a wild 60+k descent I was pretty much stuffed.
I was pouring the water in, but it felt like it was just sitting there, sloshing around in my stomach.
And I was sick of the taste of carbo gels and powerbars - they're too sweet if you're not eating anything else.
The next climb - Col De Notre Damme Des Abeilles - knocked me about. It was a tough climb with two false summits - you think you've reached the top, descend for a km or so, and it starts to climb again; twice. After another great descent (10k at 55 to 65 on empty wide sweeping roads) I crawled into Bedouin maybe 5 minutes ahead of the cut off time.
I had to make a decision: tackle 21k of Mt. Ventox, or pull the pin. I didn't want to spend the next two hours looking over my shoulder for the cut off car. OK, perhaps I could have handed in my timing chip and finished outside the allotted time, but I just didn't think I had the climb left in me.
I pulled over, leant my bike against a wall and walked into the nearest cafe for a beer.
They reckon 30% don't finish; unfortunately I became part of that statistic.
Riding finished, but .....
I put my bike on truck and the climbed on the sad bus. Which then took three and a half hours to climb the 21k to the summit (the finish village was on the other side, and there is only one road up).
Here's something you might be able to guess for yourself - 50 blokes who've ridden 150k in the scorching heat all sitting in a confined space don't smell very nice.
At the finish village we were treated to some very French logistics. They refused to unload more than one truck at a time; and despite truck 4 (that had my bike) arriving ahead of truck 2, truck 2 had to be unloaded first.
90 minutes after arriving at the finish village I was finally back in the saddle for a brilliant 20k run down the mountain to meet the tour company's bus.
A shower, dinner, a couple of glasses of local Rose (quite nice) and I'm off to bed.
And the mountain will still be here next time I'm in Provence, so maybe next time I'll give the Giant a better showing.
4 am out of bed, left the hotel at 5, and we were in the start village of Montelimar around 6.
The event started at 7, but we were sent off in groups of about 7,000 - I was 7017 and rolled over the start line at 7:30, with the cut off vehicle leaving about 15 minutes later - you have to stay in front or hand in your transponder.
Riding with that many people was amazing, although a little hairy on the narrow roads getting out of town.
I had a flat on the first descent (25k in) then problems with my pump that saw me riding 30k or so with a half flat front.
And I worked out how to take a leak without getting off the bike - just make sure you aim away from your bidons!
The next couple of hours went well. And I was holding my target average pace of mid to high 20's. Mid teens on the climbs, 50 to 60 on the descents.
In every village we passed it seemed the entire population was out, clapping as we passed, calling out "Allez!" and "Bravo!". Every farmhouse had someone sitting in a chair on the roadside waving and cheering.
But it was hot - the temperature was mid 30's for most of the day - and I didn't have any electrolyte replacement powder (long story, but basically I made a dumb mistake - I've been training hard in cool & cold weather and I simply didn't think to bring any).
On the third climb of the day (up to Aurel) I started struggling, and despite being hosed down by a local in the village near the top and a wild 60+k descent I was pretty much stuffed.
I was pouring the water in, but it felt like it was just sitting there, sloshing around in my stomach.
And I was sick of the taste of carbo gels and powerbars - they're too sweet if you're not eating anything else.
The next climb - Col De Notre Damme Des Abeilles - knocked me about. It was a tough climb with two false summits - you think you've reached the top, descend for a km or so, and it starts to climb again; twice. After another great descent (10k at 55 to 65 on empty wide sweeping roads) I crawled into Bedouin maybe 5 minutes ahead of the cut off time.
I had to make a decision: tackle 21k of Mt. Ventox, or pull the pin. I didn't want to spend the next two hours looking over my shoulder for the cut off car. OK, perhaps I could have handed in my timing chip and finished outside the allotted time, but I just didn't think I had the climb left in me.
I pulled over, leant my bike against a wall and walked into the nearest cafe for a beer.
They reckon 30% don't finish; unfortunately I became part of that statistic.
Riding finished, but .....
I put my bike on truck and the climbed on the sad bus. Which then took three and a half hours to climb the 21k to the summit (the finish village was on the other side, and there is only one road up).
Here's something you might be able to guess for yourself - 50 blokes who've ridden 150k in the scorching heat all sitting in a confined space don't smell very nice.
At the finish village we were treated to some very French logistics. They refused to unload more than one truck at a time; and despite truck 4 (that had my bike) arriving ahead of truck 2, truck 2 had to be unloaded first.
90 minutes after arriving at the finish village I was finally back in the saddle for a brilliant 20k run down the mountain to meet the tour company's bus.
A shower, dinner, a couple of glasses of local Rose (quite nice) and I'm off to bed.
And the mountain will still be here next time I'm in Provence, so maybe next time I'll give the Giant a better showing.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Signing on
I'm in Montelimar, the start point for tomorrow's Etape. It's also well known for it's nougat. And probably not much else from the look of it.
Don't get me wrong, it's a very pretty town, but I don't think much happens here on a Sunday.
Except today there are 9,500 cyclists in town to sign on for tomorrow's adventure.
Very few women (other than the Las Vegas lesbians), it's mostly men in their 30's and 40's, all looking fit and very few with hair on their legs.
The registration process was painless, as you'd expect from an organisation that's done this 19 or 20 times before.
Line up in your number group - I'm 7017 - sign the paperwork and they give you an envelope.
Next stop, collect a t-shirt.
Next have your timing chip activated.
Then collect your back pack, containing a few freebies, and the official part of the day was completed.
There is an area setup displaying, and of course selling, all sorts of things that a cyclist might need for tomorrow. From a $15,000 Trek bike (the same one as Lance rides) to a pair of socks.
I managed to remember to pack both my bike & socks, so I didn't really need anything.
I wanted an official Etape jersey, but by the time we got here they only had Small and Very Large left.
I wandered around looking at and listening to all the people - lots of English accents - collected a few freebies (a nice Skoda hat & a Tour de France mouse mat) and bought a great ice cream: two scoops, peach and pear.
In the end I succumbed to a little shopping: A new helmet; a copy of Rouler magazine (bike porn at it's finest), a wind breaker (don't want to get cold on the 20k descent tomorrow) and a classic Molteni / Campagnolo jersey, just like Merckx used to wear.
Now it's back on the bus to Valence, watch the end of today's stage into Verbier, and get to bed early - I'm getting up at 4am.
Don't get me wrong, it's a very pretty town, but I don't think much happens here on a Sunday.
Except today there are 9,500 cyclists in town to sign on for tomorrow's adventure.
Very few women (other than the Las Vegas lesbians), it's mostly men in their 30's and 40's, all looking fit and very few with hair on their legs.
The registration process was painless, as you'd expect from an organisation that's done this 19 or 20 times before.
Line up in your number group - I'm 7017 - sign the paperwork and they give you an envelope.
Next stop, collect a t-shirt.
Next have your timing chip activated.
Then collect your back pack, containing a few freebies, and the official part of the day was completed.
There is an area setup displaying, and of course selling, all sorts of things that a cyclist might need for tomorrow. From a $15,000 Trek bike (the same one as Lance rides) to a pair of socks.
I managed to remember to pack both my bike & socks, so I didn't really need anything.
I wanted an official Etape jersey, but by the time we got here they only had Small and Very Large left.
I wandered around looking at and listening to all the people - lots of English accents - collected a few freebies (a nice Skoda hat & a Tour de France mouse mat) and bought a great ice cream: two scoops, peach and pear.
In the end I succumbed to a little shopping: A new helmet; a copy of Rouler magazine (bike porn at it's finest), a wind breaker (don't want to get cold on the 20k descent tomorrow) and a classic Molteni / Campagnolo jersey, just like Merckx used to wear.
Now it's back on the bus to Valence, watch the end of today's stage into Verbier, and get to bed early - I'm getting up at 4am.
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