It was a humid and fog bound morn ...
Ahead of us waited The Gong Ride!
Starting the ride later than last year would take its toll. We rolled off from Sydney Park at around 7.45am. Last year we rolled off at least an hour earlier. The later start made for a much longer ride, encountering more riders and heat as the day wore on.
For some, the toll would be heavy ...
The start was, as usual, a jam of rubber, metal, lycra and suncream.
We made good time along Botany Bay and then up to Loftus Oval for a cuppa, muffin and attack from an as yet indeterminate flying insect with quite a sting. Whether it was the sting or not on his shoulder, this was the last time we'd see Crazy Horse that day.
[Editor's Note: Greater endeavours should probably be undertaken to ascertain the exact nature of whatever stimulant was injected through the proboscis of the offending mite in the interests of heightened athletic performance. Or, we could simply be thankful that he didn't have an anaphylactic reaction and end the ride there and then with the screech of tires, wail of sirens and a huge question about what to do with his bike.]
There'd already been a fair bit of siren activity with a couple of nasty falls on the giant, sweeping downhill between Sutherland and Loftus, so this was a definite relief.
Out along the Princes Highway through Helensburgh and on to Waterfall, there were ample opportunities to stretch the legs and build up some decent speed. Not quite the roller coaster you get along Coalcliff and other hamlets further south, but a definite sense of anticipation was building.
So much so that Haematite Horse had to have an unscheduled pit-stop. Readers of this fine journal may recall his pit-stop last year occurred much sooner. Training does pay!
As we waited, Lightning Horse whizzed past on his new EMC2 racing blue:
Haematite Horse leapt into a frog squat, some form of tantric cycling zen state, then shot off after him:
Lightning Horse was waiting in photographic ambush a short way down the highway and captured this shot of Thunder Horse in flight...on the right of your picture viewers.
The descent from Waterfall down to Lawrence Hargrave Drive was exciting as always. Whizzing past fallen cyclists (medics in attendance) always gives one pause. A less than gentle reminder to keep the hands very much on the brakes. Both brakes get a solid workout on the descent. While contemplating the aches and pains of the fallen riders I forgot about the series of short, sharp, let's call them 'bastard hills', between the end of the descent and our next pit-stop at Red Cedar Flats.
Haematite Horse was demonstrating solid form by this stage and Lightning Horse was out in front (discounting Crazy Horse who was by now out in front of out in front).
The respite at Red Cedar Flats was more than welcome. Crazy Horse phoned in his position-already over the climb and heading for Stanwell Park. He offered to wait, but when advised we were a good half hour behind, he took off, blazing a record finishing time for Team Iron Horse, probably ... er, we don't actually know how far ahead of us he finished. It was hours ahead of Thunder Horse.
Gravel, whip-birds, cool eucalypt forests, filtered sunlight and the steady thrum of lungs fit to burst as they pumped oxygen around our systems.
Magic.
And then the summit.
Dark Horse's smile says it all.
(It even hints at that little climb on the right that lies in wait.)
One last climb and then we'd be on the downhill leg.
The downhill starts here.
While you wait, stilt-walkers entertain with encouraging cries of 'break a leg' and 'don't crash'. Some riders don't listen and accidents inevitably happen.
From hereon in, it was every man for himself.
Recollections
Clifton Hill bears a special memory for Thunder Horse as this is where leg cramps commenced. By the time he was splayed on the footpath opposite the Belambil Bowlo, screaming through gritted teeth for beer and salted chips, the cramps had gone from troubling to downright debilitating. For some strange reason Thunder developed a fascination with what looked like dental mirrors attached to cyclists' helmets as the day wore on. "Not my best effort or fondest memory, this year's Gong Ride. Think I'll approach next year's ride with more training in warmer conditions."
"No cramps for me," advised Crazy Horse. "In fact, I think the traffic laden start, restricting excessive early speed enabled some fine hill climbing and tail-wind assisted flat riding for me at the end. That, an an unplanned 2 week long tapering regime left me with super fresh legs." Crazy Horse loved riding through the Royal National Park-such gentle hills compared to the upper Blue Mountains. "For some strange reason my cycle computer said only 82km at the end. If mine is out by that much then those training rides in the mountains have all been 10% longer!"
On his new steed, Lightning Horse had a better ride than last year. On the downside, a car door opened on him, which almost ended in disaster: it clipped his handlebars but he managed to stay on. "A highlight was seeing the bearded, long-haired, shirtless guy riding home along the Princes Highway later that afternoon. I assume he rode both ways."
Haematite Horse experienced euphoria while inhaling deeply as he coasted down through the Royal; and again on seeing the Sea Cliff bridge winding around the crumbling Coalcliff. "I spoke to a young Croation dude, circa 18, at Stanwell Park. He had no idea about why there was a ride, despite the fact that he was not in it. He'd been peering out of his 2nd storey apartment window near Sutherland and saw the hordes riding past. He simply grabbed his bike and joined in. His Dad was following behind with their car to collect him. He had no idea how far the ride was going, to where, or for what purpose."
Dark Horse enjoyed seeing the expanse of endless blue ocean at Stanwell Tops and feeling the cool breeze as he looked down the coastline for a glimpse of the Gong, our final destination. "The muddy finish line was a downer," added Dark Horse: a sentiment shared by all. Let's hope they have duckboards next year if the need arises.
Screaming down the freeway on the first piece of open road and then hitting the brakes a bit too hard after the idiots in front suddenly decided to slow down created a bit of a wobble for Saw Horse. For a split second he thought he'd be finishing the ride in an ambo'. "The catering was excellent!," he advised, clearly untroubled by earlier near misses. "Really enjoyed the muffins, sausage sandwich, bananas and oranges...the VB at the end of the day capped off a good day of grazing."
The Final Tally
Last year we all finished around midday: the benefit of an earlier start and, perhaps, more training. This year, finish times varied markedly. While Thunder Horse was entering 30km of leg cramp hell, Crazy Horse was crossing the finish line, at least an hour ahead of the next to cross from Team Iron Horse: Horses Haematite and Lightning.
Thunder cramped across the line, a spasming ogre of quad, hammy and calf cramps, barely ahead of Saw Horse and Dark Horse.
Hot, sweaty and tired, we were happy to have made it.
Sydney to the Gong 2010.
Ouch! We finished!
(Editor's Note: You might notice Crazy Horse is not present in the above pic. That's because he finished hours earlier and was by this stage enjoying a cold beer somewhere cool and dry.)
Team Iron Horse raised over $2,000 in sponsorship this year, rating us better than average in fundraising performance. Once again, a hearty THANK YOU to all of our sponsors.
Special Thanks to our valiant supporters who carried Iron Horses in various states of euphoria and disarray back home after a long day!
If you have a bike, a tenuous grasp on reality and the urge to train on a regular basis, why not sign on to Team Iron Horse 2011? Go on, you know you want to.
Until next time, pedal on!
Thunder Horse.
