Black Ops

Preparing to go longer & darker

By EAT MORE LARD

February 14^th, 2016

The art of train travel

In it’s essence, the transfer ride is a simple concept. The idea of a transfer ride is to combine a ride with some form of transport, in this case a train, to enable you to open up routes they wouldn’t normally be viable due to their distance away. The beauty of it is that you can’t just pull the pin and take a short cut if you are having a bad day, especially, as in our case, you had taken the train out and were riding back. The idea for the ride was developed months ago as we started to plan for the 24hr team time trial that is the Audax Oppy, run in March each year. Warrnambool was our starting point for the ride back east to Geelong.

Warnie is a hot bed of cycling, the destination for the infamous Melbourne to Warnie cycle race, one of the longest and oldest one day races in the world. We would not be riding the reverse route of this race, famous for its brutal headwinds. We had decided to take the long way along the Great Ocean Road. Just for a little added spice, we would be starting out from Warnie in the dark, at 11pm when the train arrived, re-training our bodies to deal with riding at night and a lack of sleep! It was these circumstances that saw us boarding a train at Melbourne’s Southern Cross station at 7pm on a Friday night. The train would take almost 4 hours to reach its final destination and the idea of catching a little sleep on the way day proved to be a futile exercise. Bright lights and a busy carriage negated any chance of that happening. In truth, we were also probably a little apprehensive. It was going to be a long night with the forecast for a constantly easterly headwind. At least it was looking like a mild night.

The first thing that hit me as we stepped off the train at Warrnambool was the sweet taste of the ocean in the air. It’s something that we have lost in the modern age of air travel where the destination is the always the same, a bland airport with a sickly combination of jet fuel and sweat insulating you from any new sensations. Train travel can still deliver the magic - from the car fumes of Melbourne to that pure air, fresh off the Southern Ocean. We flicked on lights, reflective gear and chatted with the station staff who were slightly bemused by the idea of riding back to Geelong through the night.

INTO THE WILD

The first few hours of the Great Ocean Road out of Warnie allow for a decent pace to be carried. There are no major climbs, just a rolling road, and the headwind wasn’t too bad. Once the legs and head had settled in I felt comfortable and we able to pull lengthy turns without too much trouble. Our first encounter with the locals came just before we dropped into Port Campbell where a wallaby dived between myself and Blair. Hmm. The constant threat of riding through the Australian night. The other wildlife was quiet - the pub had long since closed by the time we paused at Port Campbell and traffic was literally only a handful of cars before daylight. Of course, the Great Ocean Road is renowned for its spectacular scenery and although we could smell that beautiful sea air and hear the sea, it was all black out there! We were soon past the 12 (or is that 7 now?) Apostles visitor centre and about to hit the major climbs of the ride - the 15km drag up to Lavers Hill and then the drop to Horden Vale and back over the Otways to Apollo Bay.

It was slow going at night and, down near Cape Otway now, the wind had picked up and was a little more taxing. The climb towards Lavers Hill was almost hypnotic over the early sections, a constant meandering gradient and I was starting to feel somewhat sleepy. I kept putting in little surges to shake the fog out of my head but it wasn’t until we hit the never ending rollers to the high point at Lavers Hill that it started to clear a little. From there it was a fast descent, except, of course, at night it’s never as fast as you would like with a close encounter with a rather large deer a reminder of the need for caution. Our only puncture of the night interrupted the momentum but we were soon back on the road, winding through the hidden valley of Glenaire before hitting the nasty little ramp out of Horden Vale. It’s a testy 2km and the next time I expect to be on these roads will be with over 1100km in the legs during the Grand Southern Randonnee 1200km ride…

BROKEN

It was slow going and the bush was still noisy with shuffling wildlife but the first signs of light appeared in the sky as we started the descent back to the sea at Apollo Bay and energy levels lifted as a result. By the time we were back at sea level, the sun was up but so was the headwind. Cheer of the day came when we found the bakery open at 6.30am which meant not just baked goodness but also coffee!!!

The lumpy terrain, lack of sleep and headwind was taking its toll on Blair more than the rest of us. The mad Kiwi was never usually short of a word or two but he was very quiet. We had a planned time to be at Geelong to catch a particular train. It was 105km from Apollo Bay with about 4.5 hours to do it. We should be fine but there wasn’t time for much mucking around and we would need to ride at a solid pace into that wind. We downed the coffee and threw a caffeinated gel on top for good measure.

THE CHASE

The numbers were simple and so was the plan. We aimed for a conservative 25km an hour and Mark and I would share the work, ensuring that Blair was glued onto a wheel!

The wind did not relent and the Great Ocean Road is not Beach Rd flat. It has plenty of little pinches to sting the legs as Mark and I pulled long, long turns ensuring we all remained together. We passed through the bush fire devastated towns of Wye River and Separation Creek, a sobering vision of a war zone, and enough to shake you out of any grumbles over the pain in the legs. Quick stops in Lorne and Anglesea came and went with only a brief pause for sugar. After getting over the main lump after Lorne is was just the pull out of Anglesea to think about and then a straight run to Warun Ponds station.

We hadn’t banked on the rising heat and the traffic. Was everyone in Melbourne down at the surf coast on Saturday morning? Two hours ago we hardly saw a car but now it was like the Tulla at 8am on a Tuesday. With the clock ticking, we went direct, up the main road and not our planned route. It was unpleasant. The last 30 mins dragged as traffic flew past our ears on a less than smooth surface. That headwind was still there but now it was a hot headwind. Blair was silent. The odd grunt to our questions but he was still there, turning the pedals over. Eventually the kms ticked over on the Garmin - at one point I thought it might be broken, it just didn’t seem to change - and the station appeared, not so much an oasis but at least it was relief. We had 20 mins to spare!

Big kudos to Mark and in particular Blair for toughing it out. Mentally and physically it was ideal preparation for the Oppy to come. Thanks to my ever patient family who put up with my ideas, shake their collective heads, and just mop up afterwards.

Access the Strava ride for this journey here.

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