THE OTHER SIDE

Supporting the Oppy 24hr TTT

By EAT MORE LARD

April 23^rd, 2017

A few weeks ago, Tiff Winchester posted a beautiful story of her first Oppy 24hr TTT. This year I opted to get behind the wheel of the van and support the team. It was my chance to see the event from the other side after being supported as a rider for the last few years.

"Where's you bike?"

I've ridden a fair few endurance rides over the years, some of them "official" events and some of them not. Any of the longer rides I have done tend to involve a little organisation and agreement from the family but most are essentially unsupported, just myself and maybe a few others out from dusk to dawn (or occasionally the other way around). Some rides though, you just need support - "need" is probably not the right word, but support certainly makes it more comfortable. One such ride is the Oppy 24hr Team Time Trial. 24 hours is a long time on the bike. Food and water, and as importantly coffee, can be hard to come by in the middle of the night and it's challenging to carry everything you might need without opting for the full touring rig.

The Macedon Ranges has run a team or two in the last three Oppys and this year we had a number of first time Oppy riders interested in riding the 500 or so kilometres in 24hrs. I wasn't enthused about riding. I'd lost my mojo a little for road riding, preferring to head onto the gravel or the single track, so my first thought was to offer to support the team. It would be a chance for me to see what a ride such as this looked like from the other side and from the comfort of the van - air conditioning, music and ample food supply!

THE OFF

Everyone assembled at the Woodend clock tower for a pre-ride coffee to settle the early nerves. The van was full. Really full. We had enough food and supplies for a week let alone 24 hours. I was wondering how much of it I could eat myself. I had also brought an ample supply of water (or so I thought) and a small stove for making coffee and other hot drinks overnight. I had planned out the support so that there would be no (more on that later) middle of the night riding around random dark towns in northern Victoria looking for the van. Food stops, bakeries, coffees, beer options had been scoped out to make sure the team had everything they might need to get through the 24 hours.

Soon the team were off and I knew I had plenty of time until we were due to meet again, although my plan was also to stop at strategic spots for photographs on the way. As well as chief driver and support dude, I was to be the social media correspondent for the day. Of course, I was only a kilometre out of town before I realised that I had forgotten the water so off back home I went to grab it.

It seemed to take me a while to catch them. on the road. The team were chatty, relaxed and enjoying a pacy start to the ride as they headed north over the rolling stuff before the flatlands ahead. Later into the night there would be less chat!

GetTING MY GROOVE ON

Much like the riders, running support for an event like this is all about finding a rhythm, getting into a groove. Every support stop was a flurry of activity. There was making sure food and drink were available, that I was setup where I said I would be or at least somewhere obvious on the route. Clothes were discarded as the day warmed up and sunscreen sought out.

"Have you see my bag?"

"Can I have a banana?"

"Do you know where there's a toilet?"

"Is there a bakery in town?"

These seemingly trivial requests and questions became my world. Those 20 minutes were geared around anything and everything to make sure the team had what they needed. Later it would turn to a little bike maintenance or a literal or mental arm around the shoulder, a word or two of encouragement. Therapy for the road.

PLAYING PAPARAZZI FOR THE DAY

Some of my favourite parts of the day were finding spots on the road to take some pictures. When you are deep in northern Victoria and its wealth of straight, flat roads it can be difficult to find something interesting. Shots of the team up close against another yellow landscape only take you so far! Rivers, hills, bridges, there wasn't much out there and the one bridge I found over water of any consequence required a mad dash against, no doubt, curious traffic to get into a spot where I hoped a car would not pass at the same time as the team. Logistically it was nothing compared to trying to cover a bike race like Le Tour but it was still fun and part of the game that I was enjoying!

It was surprising how little time I had between stops. Even though, it was typically 2 hours or more, by the time I'd packed up, found a spot or two for a shot on route and then parked up and setup again, most of my time was gone. In the end, I only had a couple of points where I had time for a snooze and one of those was ruined by a persistent mozzie!

IT'S YOU, NOT ME*

Only 3 weeks before the Oppy, a few of us went on a night ride that I have tried to block out of my memory for many reasons. It wasn't the 50km/h wind or the rain or the tree debris landing on the road in front or sometimes on top of us. It was the point when we came our of the cafe at Woodend at 7.30am on a pretty average Saturday morning to find out that Mark's bike was no longer where he had left it - it had been stolen in the time we were inside sheltering from the weather. In the 20 or so minutes, I don't recall seeing someone walk past but somebody had and they had taken a shine to Mark's bike over mine or Tiff's and walked off with it, never to be seen again.

A few days later in private, Mark said he didn't want to ride the Oppy. He was justifiably in a grump with the whole thing and offered me his slot on the team. I surprised myself by turning him down and offered him a co-passenger slot in the van instead! Later he admitted that he thought I would grab it but after a few days he had decided to get back on the horse and was back in the team. For reasons that weren't clear to me at the time, I really had it in my head that I needed to support not ride this year.

And so it was, I found myself rightly playing the guy behind the guys for 24 hours. What hadn't really occurred to me was the emotional support that I would be offering on top of the physical aspects. At the half way point, Tiff's feet were giving her all sorts of trouble and Jacques was really in a world of pain. I was concerned that neither would complete the 24 hours at this point. Gentle words, some encouragement, a little light banter. Just making each stop easy - filling bottles, charging Garmins, anything to allow the team to just focus on riding and staying as comfortable as possible. In the end Jacques came back to life and Tiff just bruised it out. I'm not sure if her feet are back on speaking terms with the rest of her body yet.

Food was always a priority. The van was fully stocked but you can't beat some salty chips deep into a 500km ride. Even 5 hungry cyclists and a hungry driver struggle to demolish $10 worth of hot chips! Wade seemed to favour tins of fruit although perhaps his purchase of tins that required a tin opener was unwise.

* Except when I walked into the pub at Boort for a quick cold one. Everybody in the bar turned to stare. It was all about me right then.

BLUR-O-VISION

I've done the Oppy a few times and the first time I really had to fight off the sleep demons. The second time wasn't nearly so bad, maybe due to a highly successful caffeine based strategy.

As the clock moved deep into the early hours of the morning, new strategies were required to keep the team running. I had broken out the camp stove and was now taking orders in advance for brews at the next stop which were much appreciated. In Kerang we broke out the Abba CD for an outdoor cringe-fest. Later I was dancing to the Rolling Stones on the side of the highway probably more for my sanity that for the riders or the two cars that passed me while I grooved away.

Most of the little towns were dead at 3am but while I was waiting in Cohuna, I was entertained by the three lads who had obviously been on the sauce most of the night. Two of them were trying to steer a third who was in a shopping trolley down the main street. They managed to only crash and spill their compatriot once on their slow and somewhat circuitous journey down the road.

The only time we lost each other was within the final few hours in Rochester. I couldn't find a convenient place for a stop so I pulled up on the road side by the river and, realising that I had 30 mins or so, rolled the seat back and closed my eyes. What felt like a second later, the phone was ringing. The team had ridden past the van and were wondering where I was. Tiff had been promised a 10 minute power nap and was desperate to hop in the back of the van over a sleep in a ditch.

I quickly caught up with them and Mark declared that he was done for the night. With his head turned a few weeks ago and two 500+ Oppys on his palmarès, he didn't feel the need to ride that last 50km as he had been having stomach issues for the last few hours and hadn't been able to eat anything. Even the Up & Go he had tried only resulted in more up and no go. For the last two hours I would have a little company as we drove around in circles chasing the team to the finish.

LEGENDS OF THE FALL

The final word must go to the team. Once again they put in an exemplary display, taking out the furthest distance award for Victoria (in fact retaining it for the Macedon Ranges). The old hands Marty and Mark guided Wade (hardly a stranger to long distance riding), Jacques (a GSR 1200 veteran) and Tiffany (more than doubling her longest ever ride) through to the finish in Rochester with little in the way of drama, grumbles or tantrums beyond the obvious issues that faces any rider at 4am after 20 hours in the saddle.

I'd surprised myself by settling into the support roll without feeling pangs of need to be out there on the bike. There were a few moments when a couple of the team were struggling that I though I could have been out on the road to offer a wheel of support but in the end I think I contributed more in the van that I would have on the road. I was in tears at the end, ecstatic at the achievement of the team, especially Jacques and Tiff. As a bonus, since then I've also re-found my mojo for road riding, despite the recent tragic news of deaths on our roads.

In fact, I feel privileged to have been able to support such a committed and strong team that really did ride as a team and, in true Oppy style, looked out for each other.