Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Hidden Hills

hill: noun a conspicuous natural elevation of the earth's surface, smaller than a mountain.
Contrast this with 'over the hill', meaning past prime efficiency; past the peak of physical or other condition, etc. I, for one, managed to rediscover my etc.

Coincidentally, the Macquarie Dictionary offers the definition for 'Himalayas' on the same page opening. (But I digress.)


Our ride began at the Armory Wharf in Blaxland Riverside Park (top of map), part of the Sydney Olympic Park uber precinct. None of us had explored the cycleways hereabouts before, so it was an all around day of discovery. What lay in wait were hills, thrills and spills.


After an exhaustive mechanical check of his rusty, sorry, trusty steed, Saw Horse was all set to go. We meandered along the Parramatta River for a stretch before turning inland and hillward to the top of Woo-la-ra (the green lassoo in the top right of the map). A sister hill, higher, without an unpaved cycleway but distinct single track to its crest beckoned. We surprised ourselves by having a crack at it. 

A few lessons were learned:
1. Single tracks are better handled by mountain bikes.
2. Do whatever you can to maintain momentum in the early stages of the climb.
3. Let the momentum carry you to a point where one of your lowest gears can take up the slack.
4. Avoid crashing into your mates.
5. Consider more regular cycling to increase strength, fitness and ability.

Today's lesson over, we headed through a maze of cycleways, crossing armory railway tracks, passing sandstone cuttings and venturing through woodland screening extensive waterways until we'd ventured off the map.


Correcting our course, we stumbled upon this elevation. This is the view from atop the spiral hill (bottom left of map), showing, faintly, Horse With No Name, Saw Horse and Lightning Horse engaged in deep philosophical debate over a matter too abstract to reflect upon in this abbreviated blog. Suffice to say: philosophical musings - 1 vs. listening skills - 0.

Not that far from here was ANZ Stadium. We contemplated time trials around its perimeter-potentially over its roof-but decided it could wait for another day. A day when 'over the hill' didn't resonate so painfully for some. (The roof in particular.) 

In defence of others, let me say that, Lightning Horse was managing a calf injury; Horse With No Name was cycling several leagues ahead of us in terms of bike fitness; and Saw Horse was travelling much better than he'd anticipated. It was yours truly who was feeling the heat and lack of recent riding causing a growing fatigue of a minor 'over the hill' variety.


This snapped us out of any fatigue. I'm still impressed by the extreme variety of terrains that we managed to experience in just over 20km of bike-back meanderings.

On what planet were we now? Planet Brickpit, as it happened.

The Brickpit Ring Walk is an out of this world experience. Bicycles are strictly a no-no, and for good reason. We'd been standing, almost mesmerised by the lake below for only moments, before we struck upon the idea, simultaneously as I recall, that not only could we ride the ring, but we could ride the walls of the ring. You know, a la the Crusty Demons.


OK. Bicycles are not allowed. It's a silly and dangerous idea ... but wouldn't it make a great chase scene in the next Bond film? (Right, no more digressions. They'd probably use motorcycles anyway.)

We passed another spiral hill on our way back up towards Woo-la-ra from this other-worldly denizen and an archery centre, which I discovered after the ride has a track leading to a mountain bike park ...

Thirsty horses all, we headed for home, discovering a wide and cobble-free Champs-Elysee style return to the Armoury Wharf through the Newington Armory precinct.

A great day out by all accounts.

Until next time, pedal on!
Thunder Horse.

PS: See Lightning Horse, I didn't mention your catastrophic kerb jumping crash at all. Quite a spill. Unfortunately, dear readers, there's no photographic or video record. It really was a sterling effort.

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Recon 1: A reconnaissance mission ...



The surface of that muddy water is frozen!

In the interests of actually putting rubber to the road, I went out on a recce a week or so ago to see what the trail alongside the railway line was like between Blackheath and Medlow Bath train stations. In a fit of imagination it was called Station St. It's a good trail. Very good.

One small catch--the rocky hill just off the streets of Blackheath. You get it once going out and again coming back. No surprises there. However, it's more like alpine scree than anything else I've encountered.



That sunlight in the middle of the picture, that dot, is the bottom of the scree slope on the return leg. It seems to drop about 100 metres in 25. According to the maps, it only seems to do that. Walking it worked for me on the way out. I considered walking it on the return leg, but managed to stay aboard as I bounced and jounced to the bottom.

It's not a long journey - around 6 km one way. Enough of a warm up to consider pedalling further afield--perhaps out past the Katoomba Airfield. On this day I was too tired, cold and basically out of shape to do more than consider the possibilities. However, one day soon it would make a great ride from Blackheath to Point Pilcher (beyond the airfield) and back. Any takers?

One last thing--the Whisk and Pin cafe stop at Medlow Bath. Excellent coffee and they make great breakfasts too... for the longer rides.


Heading for home, after filling my lungs with clean air and my stomach with high potency caffeine, I cycled up the final hill and onto the macadamised roads of Blackheath, no trouble at all.

Pedal On!
Thunder Horse.