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JAM FOR JAMIESON

Finally!

By EAT MORE LARD

December 22^nd, 2019

Nobody likes the sounds of a body and bike hitting the tarmac. Especially when it is your own body and your own bike. The hard part was supposed to be done. 250km, 5500m of climbing, the 40km of Mt Skene and some chunky gravel were all behind me. The journey home on the sealed descent into Licola and then the rollers back to Glenmaggie were supposed to be a nightcap to the gravel feast that is Jam for Jamieson.

HERE COMES THE RAIN

A month earlier I was thinking that Jam surely wasn't going to be as hard as this year's Grand Ridge Road Randonnee? One doesn't just turn up to Jam and ride its 300km, unless you are Martin Grannas. The rest of us need to prove our stripes through a qualifying ride or having "previous". I'm sure some of my other foolish rides would have done the job, but I've always enjoyed Grand Ridge as a beautiful ride through Gippsland and I was back for more.

It was by far my toughest Grand Ridge ride. It rained in the lead up, it rained at the start and it rained for the last 7 hours non-stop. The rolling false flats had become soft drags that made the gentlest slope feel like a far more serious climb. My previously "waterproof" gloves turned out to not be after about 5 hours, although that could have been the amount of water poring down my arms into the gloves.

Thanks to the excellent support from Gareth and his team, I made it through and was ready for Jam. Jam is the pinnacle of one day gravels rides in Australia. I'm normally away for work at this time of year but plans were different this year and it was my chance to finally have a crack. The fastest riders complete the 310km and 6500m of climbing in 15 hours, the rest of us nearer to 20 hours. Either way its a long, start in the dark, finish in the dark, kinda day in the saddle!

THE EARLY BIRD

No worm, but plenty of vert. 40 of us were massed outside the camp kitchen at Glenmaggie at 4am, ready for the start of Jam 2019. It was a mild morning and it wasn't long before we were off the seal and on the gravel. With well over a 1000m of climbing in the first 30km, it was ramp after ramp after ramp and the riders were spread far and wide. The legs and head felt good and the daylight was well upon us before the careful descent to the Aberfeldy river and the delightful climb back up the other side.

There are no easy kilometres out there. The gravel surface was pretty good but there's little flat terrain to be had. I was looking forward to the first checkpoint at Cast Iron Point but it wasn't going to come easily. 70km, 2000m+, 5hours. This was a brand new first section compared to previous years and its beauty was certainly matched by its toughness!

A quick feed and we rolled on towards Matlock, the road continuing to rise, before the fast gravel plummet into the deep valley that is the home of the Woods Point township. There's always joy in a speedy descent but more so with the crunch of gravel under the tyres! A few corrugations slowed progress but in the main, it had few heart in the mouth moments.

WHAT GOES DOWN

It's straight uphill to Frenchman's Gap out of Woods Point. It's a cracking climb of little to no traffic with a mainly good surface and a relatively consistent gradient for a change! Once over the top, it was trending downhill all the way to Jamieson. The gravel descent was punctuated by the odd random short section of seal and the bizarre sight of two dogs ambling in Scooby Doo style down the middle of the road, all teenage of limb. The sun was out and with it was the temperature was rising. Mark and I both ran out of water before we hit Jamieson, which seems to be about 5km further if should have been.

We were well fed at Jamieson by the vollies - I'd been dreaming of chips for the last hour or so - took our shoes off (it's a Woodend thing) and enjoyed a little R&R before the crux of the day.

THE MAIN COURSE

Mt Skene is undoubtedly the centre piece of Jam. It's a massive climb in anyone's book. Officially 38km of undulating climbing with some steep ramps and a deteriorating surface. On a hot year, it can be horrendous with the spring on the climb a lifesaver. Today at least, the weather was on our side.

It starts with a pleasant but relentless ramble through the forest before hitting a series of undulating sections. The relieve of a little flat spot is welcome but who likes a descent on a climb? Are you seriously asking me to climb that again?

I felt pretty good, setting a nice rhythm (on the up!), feeling better as I climbed out of the valley which felt airless. I paused briefly at the spring although I still had plenty of water, and pushed on. Some of the crew from Jamieson came past in the van on the way to the next checkpoint on the far side of Mt Skene. "Do you need anything?". "Nope, all good, I'm feeling fine". How things change fast.

2km later, with less than 5km to the summit, I was in trouble. I was feeling a hunger flat coming on but my stomach was performing all sorts of cart wheels and refusing any attempt at food. I had to pull over, close my eyes and lean over the bars while I talked my body into the last push to the summit. What is it about Mt Skene that sends almost everyone into some deep, dark places?

After a few short minutes, I re-mounted and headed slowly onwards. The surface was rough now but after rounding a long right hander, there was the final push to the summit laid out ahead of me. In true Mt Skene style, there was a steep descent to the bottom of the summit slope before the final pull to the "place when the sign used to be". There may no longer be a sign, but the wind was playing a pleasant tune with the still standing poles.

INTO DARKNESS

It was cold on top. I was grateful for the hot soup at the checkpoint 5 rough kilometres down the other side. As the sun started to drop, so did the temperature. The vollies pulled out a blanket for me as I waited for Mark, enjoying the conversation and the comfort. He was in good spirits when he arrived. Despite a few moments of his own, he had survived the beast that had chewed him up and spat him out last time. Soon we were on our way off the mountain.

It's a long descent. Well, when I say descent, it's possibly the most disappointing descent of all time. After starting a little bumpy the first 3 kms is a pleasant gentle descent before the road flattens and then actually starts to rise in a series of false flats. Hang on, aren't we heading down now? To add to the oddness of the "descent", as it started to get dark we noticed that there were cow pats in the road. Soon there were actual cows on the road and in the bush, running with the riders!

Eventually, the road did head down. At this point it was butter smooth and we hardly noticed when the seal suddenly appeared. Surely the hard work was done now? And then I crashed.

I remember suddenly being on unseen gravel over seal as I hooked into a turn. Then I hit the deck hard, the bike going the other way. The wind had been knocked out of me and I thought I had landed on my hip and knees, which were now bleeding profusely down my legs. I seemed to be ok but my hip was real sore. I stood up slowly. It was still a little over 50km back to Glenmaggie. Apart from a ripped saddle and bar tape, the bike looked ok. As the next 5km was downhill, I gingerly climbed back on and slowly rolled on into the night. My hands and arms seemed fine.

We briefly stopped at Licola. Mark asked me how I was. I said I wanted to keep going. Those rollers - the Three Sisters, although I had other names for them - hurt. I was pedalling on one leg and sitting at all sorts of angles on the bike. The first climb seemed ok. I was still running on adrenaline at that point. The hardest part was stopping and starting. Pushing off with my leg was super painful. Was it a good idea to keep riding? I don't know but as it seemed that I could, I guessed it wouldn't do any harm. At some point before the final climb we ran into Josh and Lance. Josh had been taken out by a wombat and his ride was over.

The last few rises involved a fair bit of teeth gnashing and grunting but I made it and rolled down to the lakeside at Glenmaggie. Damn, I don't remember the camp site being this far uphill, I thought, as I crawled to a finish. People helped me off the bike, into a chair, gave me some food and beer and patched me up. It was almost 1am. I was too sore to move so I ended up sleeping in that chair after the world's slowest shower.

The next morning I was in pain. Everything was lazily bundled into the car and Mark drove home. When I got there, my family were amazing. Not only had I had the luxury of being away for the weekend just before Christmas, but now I was home and completely useless too. The kids kept telling me it was good practice for being 100. If this is what 100 feels like, I'll pass thanks!

Thanks to Gareth and the amazing volunteers throughout the day, especially Claire who patched me up. The ride didn't quite pan out as expected - 5 mins before the crunch, I would have felt very differently about the day! Thanks to my family for tolerating and never failing to support me. Finally, thanks to Mark for guiding me through those painful 50km home!

NOT DEAD YET

Talking of Mark, he had been chasing another crack at Jam for 5 years but life had gotten in the way since then. Here is his wrap up of the day.

When Jem told me on the drive home he was going to blog the ride I asked to add my contribution. After a week I am still struggling to find the words. I checked back on our small WhatsApp chat after the ride to see what I had written. "Mt Skene and I still aren't friends, so very, very happy to finally finish Jam 300, but wow so very tired right now, what a ride". The immediate response I got back was simply "Onya Rigs, you've slain the beast, or at leased given it a bruise or two".......and I am happy with that.

Finally just a huge thanks to the Gareth and the volunteers, especially Claire who has a special place and was there on my last Jam, 5 years ago, when I pulled at the final checkpoint through severe cramps, your warmth (and your soup) are the best. xx"

Footnotes

I'm glad to say, there was nothing broken. Just a very sore hip and ribs to deal with - it turned out I landed on my bum! It'll be a slow run up to Christmas. No, I haven't looked at the bike yet!

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FootNotes

I'm glad to say, there was nothing broken. Just a very sore hip and ribs to deal with - it turned out I landed on my bum! It'll be a slow run up to Christmas. No, I haven't looked at the bike yet!

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JAM FOR JAMIESON

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Part 3 - Downhill to the Med