Biting off more than I can chew

I remember reading a blog, most likely Brendan's, and there was line in there about a cake, a dog left alone with said cake... and... ah... the dog realising that it has to get as much cake into its mouth before it gets caught.

Not really sure where I was going with that but along similar lines I had mapped out a big ride for Sunday. Not only would it take me on a tour of my new surrounds, let me try out a few hills and sample a highly recommended bakery. It would let me test out myself and put a start marker on some proper training. It'd be a solo 120km's, not massive by any means but when you haven’t done over 60 in 6 months it's a little daunting.



I made an early start, heading up the highway towards Port Germein. Thankfully the traffic was light and I think I was only passed by 6 cars in the first 40km. I turned off the highway and headed along the road that would lead me through the Pt.Germein gorge. It was at this point that I started to falter. I couldn't have been more than 30km in when the combination of slight gradient, head breeze and no form forced me off my bike in a desperate attempt to find something wrong with it - rubbing brakes, slow flat, slipping seat, anything?!?

No, Jared. It's you. It's your legs.

Dejected I got back on and was instantly rewarded minutes later with a nice, twisting, not too steep path through the magnificent gorge - with the exception of a close encounter with a big kangaroo that hopped across my path then waited on the side of the road to give me a "what up" big chin stare.

A little while (ok a long while) later I popped out on the other side of the Flinders ranges and began to head south to what my workmates described as "a very good bakery". For those that enjoy riding out in the countryside, no doubt one of the reasons you do is so that you can enjoy a good country bakery (there's even a thread on FOA about it, no?). Well anyway, this is all I could think about for the next 30km...

You can imagine my dismay when I rolled into the next town only to be greeted by many a "Closed" sign as is extremely popular in this part of the world. Thankfully the pub was open and after reading enough of Andy's adventures I realise how important it is to eat when you can. I was treated to warm hospitality and a toasted sandwich. Not exactly Michelin star but it was fuel.

the lunch I wasn't supposed to have

I hopped back on the bike... 45mins down the road and... I FIND THE FREAKING BAKERY I WAS SUPPOSED TO STOP AT!!!

Well considering this was my ride, at my pace I treated myself to a 2nd lunch and the best dam hot chocolate and pepper steak meat pie in the world. They also had home-made cider and beer but I'll tick that box next time.

the lunch I was supposed to have

Now fully loaded my next surprise was 15km of mint "strada bianca"  bike path that took me from the bakery all the way to the turn off that would lead me back to Pirie - it was nice to tune out for a little bit and not worry about riding on the bloody shoulder (plus it’s just soooo Rapha/EEEppppiicccc).

Not much to report for the last 40km, but it was, strangely enough, at this point I started feeling good - legs felt loose and I found myself  in the big dog hammering along the highway. Not even a magpie attack dampened my spirit. Completely shattered, I rolled the last 5 km back into Pirie, collapsed on the couch and let the soothing tones of Alec Baldwin's character "Jack Donnahey" in 30 Rock, put me to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

Good.

Riding a bike is like riding a bike

aaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnndddddddddddd here's post #2!

A saving grace, a big ol' country track on my back doorstep

Selfishly one of the big things I'm going to miss is racing/riding with the Banole/Brunswick crew. In particular Tuesday night track at DISC and even the cold Thursday nights at the altar of Brunswick Cycling, the Harrison Street Velodrome.

I'll miss this for two reasons:

Firstly, track racing was the only form of competitive sport where I seemed to have some sort of semi-natural ability at. I would have considered myself a decent rower, but that came through a good chunk of hard work over many years and a lot of attention from super-coach Fradge. Hockey, well I peaked at that when I was about 14 and every year after I seemed to get slower and slower. Cycling was a natural progression after rowing but in a few years of racing crit & road all I had to show was a 1st and 2nd in D a Glenvale. Not too long, however, after pinning a number on at DISC did I put a W on the board. It's no big deal, just Tuesday night racing. But motivation picks up, you move up grades, start getting closer to guys who smashed you previously and start eyeing off bigger races.

Secondly, I will miss hanging out with all my various cycling friends. The Banolians and Brunswickians. They're all really good people and they never fail to be supportive of one another - there's nothing better than after a crap week at work, getting a big smile from Steve Duggan after a couple of hours behind Cam on the moto saying "you're a good wheel Jear" (I realise some might not know what that means but it's good and coming from a good guy).

How to combat this?

Step 1: Find Track
Luckily like most country town, Pirie has a couple of football ovals, cricket pitches, dog track, racetrack, 3-4 various "sportsbars", a chinese restauraunt and... a big 500m long outdoor cycling track (according to Daryl Perkins they used to hold the first carnival of the season here - not so much anymore). Most of the town wouldn't realise what it was as the main footy footy footy oval sits inside it. But it will become my own personal training ground in a few weeks time when the track bike arrives.

Step 2: Get bike.
I am without a road bike as I sold it before going on holiday. But luckliy my old man isn't riding his (which was basically a mash-up of parts from my old old roadie) so I packed it up and brought it with me. Bonus of having a place to myself is I can put my bike shit wherever I like!

Step 3: Search out new riding/racing crew.
Luckily Pirie has an fairly active, albeit small, group of riders. About a dozen or so but they ride very regularly. So last Saturday at 9am I made my way 5mins down the road (everything in Pirie is 5mins down the road) to the meeting spot.

Post Magpie attack, my heart rate was 187bpm after having to Kilo TT escape

I had initially thought that my bike would stack up pretty well in a country town... I was so wrong. As the riders turned up - Ridley Noah DA, Scott DA, Azzuri Di2, Oppy, Kestrel, Van Nicholas titanium etc. I really miss my Damocles.

The ride started out at a steady clip, neat formation and no surging (Saturday is tempo, Sunday is race day).  At the end of the ride one of the old boys (I'm the youngest by about 2 decades) said we'd head off for coffee. At last! Finally I'm going to get things back to normal with a Cafe stop. Imagine my suprise when "coffee" actually means everyone rides back to Bronte's house where his wife has prepared some party pies, instant coffee and some cake, and all the old riders who are too old to ride anymore rock up too. Whilst the barista may not have had a sleeve full of tatts and a beard, and the cake wasn't "organic" and cost more than a weeks wage - it was one of the best post ride coffee's ever. The banter is exactly the same: wives/gf's, new bike parts, results from old races and the next race you're preparing for.

Without really asking one of the guys said to me "if your wife will let you out of the house, we're racing tomorrow"...

Sunday morning, my first road race since the 2011 3DT. Unfortunatley no numbers are required but that's due to the fact it's the same dozen or so guys racing (although we did have the inclusion of 14 year old Tommy, almost half my age and therefore completly capable of beating me). The course itself was out-and-back and 50km in distance. Seeing as I hadn't pushed a pedal in anger in over 3 months I wasn't feeling too bad for the most part, but in the last 5km I started to bonk. And, although I'd been shown on the way out, I had no idea where the finish line was. Before I knew it some of the old guys had started winding up and I managed to hold a wheel tight and box another rider in, still not sure of the line I jumped to no-where, almost running out of steam before I'd started. I did manage to get a wheel in-front and before I sat up, the welcome sight of the finish line came into view. I was 1 from 1 in Pirie.

It's not that suprising but after the rides on the weekend and a couple of windtrainers this place is starting to feel a little more comfortable. Next weekend: (small) hills!

I know it, I'm no poet

So here it begins.

I've been saying for ages now when something interesting happens (mainly to me), "I'm totally putting this in my blog"... even though I don't have one. And when news came through that I was being sent to Port Pirie for 9 months for work I decided to make good on that statement.

Before I begin I would like to say that a good chunk of inspiration for this blog comes from my friend Brendan's blog The New Timer I like it a lot and not because it talks about riding a bike, racing a bike, parts of bikes, life, music, Sean Hurley and has guest writers. It's because you never know when it will talk about riding a bike, racing a bike, parts of bikes, life, music, Sean Hurley and have guest writers. Do not expect the grammar to be as… um… good (shit), possibly expect some cut & paste (sorry Brenno – take it as a compliment).

Whilst I despise people asking themselves questions, there doesn't seem to be any way around this as who is going to ask you questions about a blog you haven't even started yet?

Q: So Jared (oh Jesus) why are you in Port Pirie and what are you doing there?

A: I'm and engineer, a structural engineer. I'm not much for sitting at a desk churning out calculations and to be honest I'm not gifted at it like some that I work with. I better at being practical, solving problems and communicating with the people that make projects happen (contractors, maintenance, operators etc). I'm essentially "on loan" from my parent company to a big Lead smelter in Port Pirie and I'm positioned with the Shutdown team. The team essentially plans out in careful detail each "service" the plant needs to have to keep operating. In order to service some parts of the plant, it needs to be shut down. And because time = money, the amount of down time has to be minimised and thought through in detail. Normally they send mechanical engineers but due to requirements they need a real (structural) one.

Q: Will we ever see you again?

A: I'm back every 3 weeks for a weekend, and my term here is for 9 months. I'll miss out on track season but will be back (with a vengeance) for road 2013

Q: Was Chrissy pissed?

A: I'm a very lucky boyfriend. Even though we've gone through 2 years of long distance when she was in Perth and that she's been living with me "temporarily while she looks for a place, but continues to take up more and more of my closet space" for the last year and a half, it was always going to be hard. She is incredibly supportive and given the fact I'm back every 3 weeks and the close proximity of Adelaide and promises of winery holidays, it's not really that bad.

Q: Were Dave and Spiro pissed?

A: They are completely lost without me. In all seriousness they are two very good friends and I'm lucky to have them. Plus Chrissy is able to keep an eye on them.

Ok that's enough of that. I will miss my girl, my friends, my family, my dog, my club (BWK4LYF) terribly but these opportunities don't come along often and when they do they have to be taken. I’m writing this blog not only to track the time here but to hopefully make it pass a bit quicker, it’ll be and added bonus if you follow it with me.

I’ll point out too that the house the company has put me in is pretty sweet and has two spare double-bed bedrooms. Ya’ll are more than welcome to stay (google port pirie first!)

The 250m high fume stack at the smelter

All righty, let's get on with it.