The Mont24- Reboot Version 2

So the Mont24 was supposed in be in March, it got rained out fairly spectacularly which was crap for most people but great for me because it meant that I didn’t miss out. By the time the rescheduled date came around in October I was healed and back on the bike, so we had a mixed team of 6 still despite more member changes than underwear changes since the initial entry.

An amazing sunset over the Mont24 camp

Then Tim entered the Croc Trophy so he was out but PowerRanger Luke stepped in so back to a 6. Having raced 24 hour races in a three, and even attempted a pair once, racing in a 6 feels relaxed. Roughly 4 hours of riding over the weekend, sure they are hot laps but that’s less riding than I do on a given Sunday.

So I rode to work Thursday, then over the course of 20 minutes our team of 6 became 5, and then became 4… I caught the train home!

Dusty conditions out on track

At rego we did a category switch, no longer racing in mixed 6s we were going to be in the more competitive field of mixed 4s. Unfortunately our prime candidate for first lap (Turbo Stu) was one of the last minute withdrawal so the boys were debating who got the gig. Big Keith looks the scariest due to his tats and muscles so we figured he’d get more space in the mayhem – he was sh*tting himself.

Anyway, a far cry from the first scheduled date it was hot and dry with temperatures nudging 30 at race start. Fine layers of dust covered everything and everyone even before we got racing, then finally the race started to the cacophony of a thousand cow bells.

After the first few laps we were in 4^th place, but everyone knows 24 races are won or lost overnight so we kept cycling through the team and didn’t really check results. Things ran smoothly, no missed transitions, no major stacks or mechanicals.

We started doubles about 10pm and had the novel experience of not even needing arm warmers for the unusually mild night temperatures. The boys struggled a little overnight but I think that was mental than physical as the times stayed really consistent despite their stories of woe. Having been on and off night shift I didn’t really mind the sleep disturbance and my night double ended smoothly in the early morning predawn light that is magical at the Mont.

By now we were convincingly in 3^rd but 2^nd was also in reach, a podium in mixed 4s is a pretty good result! I was still feeling strong, something I was happy about considering the year I’ve had. Eddie found fresh legs when the sun came up and we kept the same rider order going like clockwork.

Luke was our last lap rider, and it was nail biting stuff – in the end we missed 2^nd place by one minute and 20 seconds! But that’s 24 racing for you :-) no regrets as we raced our best and made no mistakes.  

Kowalski Classic - a good tonic for lost mojo

The Kowalski classic is my comeback race, last year it was my first race back after getting hit by the car. This year it was my first race back after 7 months off the bike and two surgeries… for this reason I’ve done the 50km option both years rather than the full 100km.

We headed down with a posse of Newy Cycos in the Cycobus and bike trailer. This made for a stress free trip down, no driving required (a good thing after a week of night shift). Lunch at the Greengrocer Café in Goulburn was enjoyed and highly recommended before we checked into our tourist cabin next the Bruce Ridge Trails.

The Newy Cycos at Bruce Ridge

Saturday afternoon spinning around Bruce Ridge would have been more enjoyable if I’d had any legs, unfortunately coming off night shift seems to render my legs useless for a day and I could only hope that they would come good for the next morning. I tried to help them out by eating so much I was uncomfortable sleeping on my stomach – probably not the best idea.

Despite forecasts of sub-zero morning, Canberra pulled out a mild one for race morning. We were ready to go on time and reached race start in time for those who have pre-race routines to tick off. I keep thinking I should try this warm-up business, but I never get around to it.

As a result when the gun sounded for our wave start, Tim and Gresho were off like frogs in a sock and I was near the back of the wave. The first hill let me know why other people warm up, but at the same time it got the blood pumping.

The course was completely different to the previous year thanks to logging in East Kowan and fantastic trail building efforts. This year the first 50km was almost all in Sparrow Hill so off we trotted under the highway for some flowy trails.

The thing about the Kowalski is that it’s nearly all singletrack which is awesome and tough! It suits me, I’m comparatively strong in single track. But I was still surprised to see Tim and Gresh up ahead at one point on the trail before realised it was a section that snaked back on itself and that I still didn’t know how far ahead they were.

Then I reached the same point less than a minute later and realised I was riding pretty well to be not far off those boys. I found my flow in that single track, I felt smooth… I was finally enjoying riding again after the year from hell.

Riding with a single bottle I didn’t bother with the feedstation and used firetrail to pass slower riders before getting back into yet more singletrack. The next rider I came up behind was Tim, well this was awkward, time to call track on your partner.

I knew that I didn’t stand a chance of staying ahead of Tim if we got on firetrail but due to the plethora of single track I stayed ahead of him for a good 10km – a first in a race. Then we headed back towards Kowan and the trails headed upwards on firetrail, sure enough the Tim “the metrognome” Nelson powered past me and I didn’t see him again.

The last 10km hurt, the lack of base mileage in my legs was starting to show but I pushed it home down the altered Kowalski Beer Garden descent and finished in just over 2.5 hours. What I didn’t realise it I was less than a minute behind Gresh and less than 2 minutes behind Tim’s split for the 50km (he did the 100km).

I also won my category and was 2^nd overall female by less than 3 minutes. Yet again the Kowalski was a fantastic race which puts the love back into mountain biking and restores my mojo after time off the bike.

It's been a quiet on here! Injuries, Tears and Chocolate.

So, some of you might be wondering why this blog has been so quiet. Well there’s a story behind that and it’s not a fun one:

Following my run-in with a car last year I had the plate removed from my arm in January 2014. This was after a fantastic two weeks of road riding in the Victorian high country. I was feeling on top of the world having ridden the 235km route of 3Peaks over Mt Hotham and up the back of Falls Creek on the 7^th of January with Tim. We had signed up for the official 3Peaks event and booked accommodation.

Feeling strong on Mt Hotham in January

So anyway I had the plate removed, I simple surgery in preparation for more imaging of my bung wrist and more surgery on the wrist later on from a hand specialist. A week after having the plate removed my arm got sore, really sore.

I started work as a doctor, my arm was too sore to drive. I got lifts to work, I couldn’t use my arm. I rang my surgeon, twice… it got brushed off.

I got on the trainer in the garage, I couldn’t hold the handlebars. I cried in frustration, then went to Emergency. Xrays showed the fracture line had simple opened back up, not healed. I had a broken arm, again.

My last ride before the brown stuff hit the fan

The hand surgeon saw me on short notice, more surgery 3 days later, by now it’s February. Big surgery, bone cut and a big f*ck off stainless steel plate in my arm.

When can I ride? At least 3 months was the answer – I cried again. I ate chocolate, I ate ice-cream, I sat on the couch. I probably cried again, lots. I was horrific to live with, Tim put up with me. He could ride, I couldn’t.

I sold my 3Peaks entry, I went back to work in a splint. I got given permission to run. I went for run, carrying an extra 3-4kgs of chocolate/icecream/couch time. I couldn’t run 5km without walking. I cried again.

Then things slowly got better, I stopped eating crap and continued running. I ran a half marathon just before Easter and was doing long runs of 16-20kms once a week. Lots of physio on my arm, hand therapy.

Half Marathon Finish

Then finally in May 2014 – allowed back on the bike! Arm has healed! Mid-May, I rode to work. I cried! It used to be easy, I used to average 30km/hr … I’m fit from running but I can’t ride. I stop running but struggle with riding, I put weight back on.

More tears of frustration. I keep going, 30km rides are a struggle. How far have I fallen, from top form to this? Early June I enter a mountain bike event – I ride solo for 4 hours. It hurts, I get beaten by people I used to beat but I’m back.

Next day – back and neck spasm. Chiro says it’s like whiplash, body not ready for 4hrs of mountain biking. Another 3 weeks off the bike, no exercise, more chocolate, neck sore for over a month.

July, middle of winter… finally start riding again. Still hurts, still slow, still frustrating. Get grumpy at Tim who is fit, have a few tantrums but keep riding.

Wollombi Female Podium

August, it’s getting easier – Tim makes me do my first 100+km on the road since early January. I complain, but I do it. Local mountain bike race – Wollombi Wild race and I win it, mojo coming back. 

September – Starts with a mountain bike race Kowalski Classic, 50km for me this year and I’m feeling good (see my separate race report). Finally back into solid training with 1000+ kms logged this month, but just in time to start in Emergency for work and start shift work!

So there you have it, it’s been one hell-of-a-year coming back from injury for a second time. I realistically had a full 6-7 months off the bike and am still not quite in the form of early January but I’m getting there and I’m enjoying riding again.

I would like to thank Tim for putting up with his psycho partner during that time, and my hand surgeon Dr Myers who went out of his way to ensure I was looked after when the first surgeon perhaps didn’t do so well.

Flinging the Fling....

The Fling is a race that I never feel prepared for, the first year I entered in 2011 we had just bought a house and training had fallen by the wayside. It was horrendously painful and I discovered what “cramps” really means when those stricken riders on the side of the trail utter it. Oh yeah, cramps that year from about the 75km mark and I just limped home.

2012 was better, but I’d got the dark and gloomies over winter and had fallen off the training wagon. With just a couple of months I pulled out a substantially better time but still felt I wasn’t at my best.

2013 was going to be the year, I was going to train through winter and hit the Fling at my best. Unfortunately before I could hit the fling an idiot driver hit me and July was all about hospitals and healing. Despite being back on the roadie relatively quickly I really had done very little mountain biking and for some reason, the Fling seems to require mountain bike miles in the legs for me. With just the Half Kowalski and the Scott as my only decent mountain bike rides since the accident things weren’t looking good.

Setting up camp in sunshine got our hopes up

Oh and then there’s this medical degree, the one with the final exam of the whole degree scheduled just three days after the Fling. That one little hurdle standing between me and the title “Dr”, suddenly the whole Fling training plan was well and truly off the rails and I swapped out of elite back down to age group racing.

The lead into the Fling involved a lot of the usual weather watching on BOM, the forecast went from horrendous to horrible to bad to sketchy and finally it looked like the rain would hold off until the day of the race itself.

Indeed we packed in Newcastle in 36-degree heat, making it hard to think about cold weather riding and even set up camp in sunshine. We hoped the Bureau of Meteorology had got things completely wrong but they knew a little more than we’d been hoping and race day dawned grey and cold with a fine misty highland drizzle to accompany the traditional bagpipe wake-up call.

Race morning was definitely fleece pants and down vest weather

Waiting on the start line was cold, I got the shivers listening to race briefing but was briefly distracted by the guy next to me discovering that the rain on his tyres simply meant he could see heaps of lovely air leaks bubbling away. Then finally we were off and the usual shemozzle of self-seeding started to sort itself out.

My legs felt dead, completely dead like riding with concrete muscles – I don’t think I’ve ever felt so bad in a race. I kept hoping I would warm up and come good, but even half an hour in I was still feeling crap. I passed Charlie McCabe early on and wished her well in the 100mile event as the only female entrant, I didn’t envy her as the weather continue to be grey and wet.

After the first river crossing or two I definitely couldn’t feel my feet, and my mood wasn’t improving at all. I had mentally admitted defeat in the race when I changed categories and I was even considering pulling out at the first transition through Wingello. The GUs that had freely flowed into my flask in the Newcastle heat were now refusing to leave the flask at my request and I had drunk next to nothing for the first hour of the race.

At Wingello I swapped to a camelbak and single GU packets, ate some food and pushed on. The legs weren’t improving, but the 29er wheels rolled well on the firetrail and I hooked onto a train. Then we hit singletrack and it was obvious the blokes up the front were roadies – finding out your bars don’t fit between trees at speed was the first sign, and walking the rocks was the next.

A few of us made it past these roadies and in the next section of single track I found myself chatting to Lana Moy’s other half Greg who would keep me company for the next hour or so. Sometime after the next feed station he dropped off and myself and a South African bloke seemed to be keeping similar pace. We got chatting and told similar stories – dead feeling legs, no motivation, suffering.

Having company made things a whole lot better, we fell into a rhythm – I’d let him go first on firetrail descents and I’d soon catch him on ascents when he would then stick on my wheel.

We ticked off the obstables, The Wall, Halfway Hill and a whole lot of hills in-between that I swear multiply every year. The elite men came through around half way hill, Mark Tupalski was just launching an attack and looking strong. Soon we onto the smooth road into Wingello for the second time, my South African mate mentioned pulling the pin and I secretly groaned at the thought of loosing my riding companion.

Luckily he changed his mind and after refuelling we set off again for the last and most brutal stage of the race. The bumpy descent through the paddock to the first single track was not fun as that kind of stuff still hurts my bung arm and wrist but soon I had other things to worry about as my left inner thigh cramped in exactly the same bit of single track as 2011! Refusing to stop I spun that leg easy while putting power through my right and it seemed to ease, but I was dreading that section of "rollercoaster" in reverse with all the little pinch climbs.

Concentrating on smooth pedalling we slogged on as the mist was turning more and more to rain, the temperature averaged about 11 degrees for the whole race and we did spare a thought for the previous year when the sun was baking hot through some of those later sections of firetrail.

Veteran Female Podium

I starting pulling gaps on my South African mate, whose name I still hadn’t learnt and whose number had fallen off and was stuffed down his jersey for safekeeping. I entered the single track ahead of him but knew I’d be walking those pinch climbs after Boundary Rider. Each time I walked those climbs he’d catch me and so we ended up together again grovelling up the hill to a choir sheltering under a marquee. We entered the last section of single track to the perfect harmony of these local voices, by this stage both legs were cramping on sharp or sustained climbs but it was still just my inner thighs so I could mostly ride through it.

Veteran Female Full Fling

By this time we were overtaking half-flingers very regularly, the track was showing signs of the extra traffic and constant drizzle and was pretty slippery over roots and rocks in places. The half-flingers were quick to give track and soon we hit the last dreaded hill, endless grassy switch backs up a paddock.

Spinning smoothly I managed to keep the cramps at bay knew that I was pretty much home, again I lost my South African friend through the last section of singletrack and also let the first Elite female, Peta Mullins come through.

The final 5 or so kilometres are firetrail and road, and they ticked painfully by until I was finally heading down through the last farm towards the finish. Finally the finishing arch appeared and – wet, cold and filthy – I could tick off yet another Fling with inadequate preparation.

Celebrating the end of a long year and long degree

I was on the lookout for my South African buddy but the cold got the better of me and I headed back to camp for some warm clothes before a feed and hanging round for the podium presentation. Despite what felt like a shocking day on the bike, and being 10 minutes slower than the previous year, I had won my age category and had a time that would put me at 4^th overall female.

In the usual way of happy endings, my South African riding companion managed to find me on facebook – thanks Gary for making the day bearable. I’m not sure I would have persevered without the company!

I also passed my exam three days later and have now finally finished five long years of undergraduate medicine and will start work as a doctor next year. The learning is far from over, some would say it’s just beginning, but the idea of a full time wage is pretty exciting and Tim’s already calculating how many bikes I owe him ;-)

  

Wiggle Hunter Valley Classic

I don’t normally enter road events, being more of mountain biker, but the inaugural Wiggle Hunter Valley Classic was close to home and also an ideal challenge coming back from a serious car-inflicted injury in July. We signed up for Epic distance, 175.5km of rolling Hunter Valley scenery and crossed our fingers for good weather.

Marshals getting ready at sunrise

Unfortunately NSW is experiencing a hot and dry spring, after a warm and dry winter and the day was forecast to be mid 30s with strong and blustery north westerly winds meaning that fire danger was extreme. No need for arm warmers then! Instead we donned the sun sleeves as the sun rose bright and orange over Cessnock and the warm wind picked up.

After an easy registration process we rolled out under the start banner as the 3^rd group on the road, and fell into peloton formation until the first left turn a few kms down the road where the marshal wasn’t on the ball and the sign was obscured, which almost caused a disaster as people hit the brakes, overshot the corner and attempted to correct. After this the group dissolved a little and a few rolling hills soon meant that we were pretty much riding just the two of us.

After the first hiccup, the signage and marshalling improved and we were soon in the backstreets of Maitland and crossing the Hunter River for the first time of the day. From here the wind picked up and sudden gusts of cross wind made bike handling tricky. It also tried to turn direction signs around and prompted a stop to inspect a temporary arrow sign that had folded itself in half, that turned out to be a real estate sign but continued to be nervous about missing or wind affected directions.

Rolling into the first feed station we refuelled with some of the HighFive energy food as well as lamingtons and cake. The bottle were refilled but unfortunately there were no toilets available so that necessitated another stop just a few hundred metre up the road behind some bushes.

Just after the feed station the standard length route turned left as we continued straight ahead for Epic. The sign indicating this wasn’t in the best position and we met several weary riders later on who had inadvertently taken a much longer route than they’d signed up for. 

From the first feed station through the Seaham the wind was partly behind us but once we turned towards Clarence Town it was more of a cross-head wind which made the going tough. A section of Paris-Roubaix style potholes signals the entrance to Clarence Town and then the rolling hills continue towards Dungog, the gusty wind making this part of the ride rather unpleasant.

Well before Dungog we turned left towards Wallarobba which was still a cross head-wind but at least from the other side for a while. About this time we started catching riders from earlier wave starts who were obviously struggling with the tough condition (perhaps deep dish carbon rims weren’t the right choice for the day!). Finally we turned left again at Wallarobba and the wind because cross-tail, before long we rolled into feed station 2 which was just before Wallarobba Hill – the biggest climb of the day.

Having done about 82km, less than half the distance, things were starting to look a little grim. The wind was taking its toll and the day was warming up. Quite a few riders were hanging about the feedstation and didn’t look to be in a big hurry to leave. Once again there were no toilets but a good supply of gels, bars and cake as well as water and energy drink. Unfortunately I was starting to crave salt, with it being over 30 degrees and less than 10% humidity, but there was nothing salty to be had.

Lemonade Icey-Pole at Paterson

Straight out of the feed station there was the climb up Wallarobba, I’d rather do that climb many times than ride into the head wind we had for the day. Coming down the other side was a bit hairy as the wind gusts suddenly appeared as a cross wind half way down – not fun at 60km/hr!

Cross wind gusts continued and we turned left again to head into Paterson, then we had a blissful couple of kilometres with the wind behind us meaning that 38km/hr was an easy spin on the flat. We stopped in the little town of Paterson for an icecream at the local store. We generated a fair bit of interest amongst the tourists passing through who were amazed at the distance we were attempting.

Tim keen to keep going

Tim was keen to keep moving so as soon as the icecream was down it was back on the road. We were hoping to keep the tail wind for another little while but leaving Paterson we turned just enough for it to become a gusty cross wind. Losing concentration for just a split second I found myself blown off the road and into the gravel on the verge… this was going to be long day!

At the 110km mark we were just on the northern outskirts of Maitland again and the route turned right, this meant turning directly into the wind. We stopped in the shade and discussed the merit of continuing or whether I should simply cut the ride short and head home or back to the car. Another rider pulled up and joined in the discussion; he’d missed the route-split 70km earlier and had already ridden further than planned and started cramping. Looking at our route map he pulled the pin and turned towards Maitland. Another rider pulled up and sat down in the shade, he looked broken.

 

Broken!

Deciding to continue we started into the wind, this section of road was open and rolling and the gusty wind was relentless. It’s somewhat demoralising pedalling down hill only to achieve a speed of 20km/hr and we seemed to be averaging about 15km/hr overall. About half an hour into this section I pulled off for a break, there was no shade and no shelter from the wind and I was also running low on water.

No where to shelter but need a break!

Continuing on we came across water deposited by the ride organisers who had obviously realised this section was tough, hot and was taking everyone a long longer than anticipated. We stopped to refill and a race support van pulled up with some tired riders in the back. I asked whether they had room for one more and soon made the decision to jump in the van for the next 12km to feed-station 3 as it was all into the strong headwind.

 

The photo doesn't show the headwind!

Tim continued riding and I told him I’m meet again at the rest station, the air-conditioned van was a welcome rest! We passed so many tired looking bodies and then on one hill we stopped and squeezed another female rider who had been walking her bike, “I simply don’t have another 2kms in me” she said.

 

Horizontal grasses

Pulling up at feed-station 3 was like entering a field hospital triage area. Broken looking riders were lying in whatever shade they could find and organisers were simply shuttling in more in each sag-wagon every 10 minutes or so.

I pulled out my phone to check the weather and the route. It was 32 degrees with humidity at less than 10%, the wind was at around 45km/hr with gusts of 70km/hr and we were riding straight into it. However we only had another 5km into the headwind before the route would turn again and it was likely to be a cross-tail wind for the final 40-odd km to the finish.

I looked up to see a man in full white roadie kit, complete with carbon shoes, slowly walking his bike down the road towards the feed station. Even 20m from his goal he had to stop and lean on his bike, obviously cramping, before limping the final few metres into the shade. I have never seen so many people looking so broken!

Seeking shade at feed station 3

Done and waiting for rescue!

I would have loved something salty at this stage, my black kit had collections of white salt crystals around it, but I had to make do with lollies and luke-warm water as I waited for Tim.

Once he pulled up I told him that it was only another 5km into headwind before it should be a whole lot easier, a few other riders heard this and decided to continue as well, but most just stayed in their shady spots waiting to find out how the organisers would get them back to their cars.

We headed back out and into the wind but I felt a lot better after my break off the bike. Soon enough we made the left hand bend out of the headwind and crossed the Hunter River again for the second time.

Happy to finally have the wind behind us, the climb out of the river valley didn’t seem too bad, and the road continue to have rolling hills all the way to the point where we crossed the main highway at Greta.

Then we doglegged along the roads between vineyards until we finally saw welcome signs proclaiming only 10km to go. Tim was starting to get a few cramps by this stage and we passed several people trying to stretch out cramps on the side of the road. The roadside dams were looking so inviting, I could really have done with a swim at this point as the temperature was now around 34 degrees.

The Hunter Valley is a lot less green than normal this year!

With around 8km to go a marshal car pulled up to ensure we had enough water and food, which we did – we just wanted those last 8km to end.

After what felt like an eternity we starting coming into the outskirts of Cessnock and then finally we were riding back up the road to the start/finish. Rolling under the finish banner was a feeling of utmost relief, and I promptly collapsed in the shade with some vaguely cool water.

It took a while before I had enough energy to do anything, and I just lay there watching people roll across the line looking exhausted. It was definitely one of the hardest days I’ve ever done on the bike, and I was pretty glad it was over … just over eight hours after it started! Had the weather been different I’m sure it would have been a different story, but as it stood it was an epic test. The organisers did a fantastic job of ferrying people around, ensuring everyone had enough water and food, but in the end the conditions were just too tough for most people.

CORC Scott25 (because 24 hours isn't enough!)

The Scott24 at Mt Stromlo is an annual fixture in the mountain biking calendar and I’ve done every Scott since starting racing in 2009. Entries had closed for this years Scott25 (with its extra bonus hour of racing) before I had raced Kowalski, and even after that success I felt there was a different between a 50km race in daylight through pine forest and a 24hour at Stromlo with its rocks.

So I was resigned to not racing, and planned to take my roadie and mountain bike down to do some riding and join the crew. Secretly I was hoping a team would need a replacement, I even checked the rotorburn forums for teams seeking members but I was bit nervous to commit especially to night riding, I had no idea how my arm would hold up.

Tim wasn’t overly keen on me riding; he wasn’t impressed on my superwoman stack in Kowalski when I was supposed to be taking it easy. But at my request he emailed the organisers about changing his 2-man pair in the 7+6hour to a mixed 3, however the reply pointed out that there was no teams of 3category in the 7+6 hour, but we were welcome to go as a team of 4 and race as a 3 or alternatively race as a team of 3 in the 25 hour.

 

Perfect weather for the Scott25

ready to race

Our team mate Keith seemed up to the challenge, but maybe he thought we were joking, he was definitely in no doubt once we’d been to registration and paid our cash to race as a 3-person team for 25 hours. It was only his second 24hour race, the first being the Mont in a team of 5… big step up. He went and bought more lights, I think he was shitting himself.

What had we done, I had been questioning riding – I still wasn’t cleared to ride by the orthopaedic surgeon and here I was doing the Scott in a team of 3!! There’s no where to hide in a 3, you can’t leave your team mates doing pairs but it was too late to back out now.

Dry and dusty on Luge

The 11am start time rolled around pretty quickly and we sent Tim off in the la mans start. Starting out with singles on the figure-of-8 course design meant just over half an hour of riding and an hour off. We soon changed to double laps and all was going smoothly as we transitioned into night. Then the first mechanicals struck, Keith had a flat which wouldn’t seal after only one lap of his double but luckily I was almost ready to head out I slotted into my double while he fixed his tyre.

He transition with me after my double to do a single so we were back in order but was again plagued by flats and came back swearing about a certain brand of tyres. In the end he purchased new tyres and got his bike back together but in the heat of things he hadn’t eaten and it was getting late. We swapped the lap order around to give him more time off the bike, the last thing we needed was a rider going hunger flat.

Despite my initial worry, my arm was ok although I could definitely feel it on the descent down the red lap (Western Wedgetail, Luge, Skyline etc). The laps were easier than previous races and omitted a lot of the super rocky sections out the back of Stromlo.

Halfway down red lap descent

Tim and I had discussed trying to limit my night laps, we both felt that stacks were likely at night-time and it was better if I rode less during the night. To this end we sent Tim out on a quadruple lap, sandwiched by doubles from Keith giving me a good break off the bike in the witching hours. I finished a double around 1:30am then was back out before dawn for a triple.

Then the mechanical demon struck again as Tim had three flats in one lap, waiting back at camp I was glad to see it was just mechanicals as I had started getting worried when he was more than 20 minutes overdue from his lap. Keith slotted in while Tim repaired his flats and after a few more double we reverted to singles as the clock ticked down.

Results-wise we were laps up on our competition, but to get a valid result we needed to roll across the line after 24 hours. In fact Keith rolled in from our last lap with 8 second to spare before the 25 hour cut-off but we’d all had enough. 40 laps in totally evenly split between team members and a convincing category win. Then to top it all off, Keith won the bike at presentations – what a weekend! 

 

Kowalski Classic

I won an entry to the Kowalski Classic 90km for having the fastest female night lap at the Mont24, I was stoked as it was an event I wanted to do anyway… then everything changed in July when I got hit by the car and we swapped the entry over to Tim instead.

For several weeks before the Kowalski I had been putting solid hours in on the roadie. The arm was just about ok road riding, except when there was a lot of surface bumps and vibration when I could definitely feel it. While I felt unsafe on the road, the impact of mountain biking on the arm wasn’t good so it was road or trainer… and trainer sucks!

Exactly a week before Kowalski I decided to test my arm on the mountain bike once more, having not touched it for weeks. We did a lap of Glenrock, less than an hour of riding but it seemed ok. It wasn’t 100% and I was definitely aware of it but it didn’t get worse over the ride and the pain wasn’t bad or unbearable. So I emailed the Kowalski organisers pleading for late entry into the 50km event, I got an almost immediate reply and within an hour I was entered.

Then Canberra got rain, I mean real rain, we haven’t had any up here for a while but they got 70mm in less than 48 hours. I started to really wonder if I’d done the right thing, after all my arm was ok for a gentle 50 minutes on dry and groomed home trails but for 50km in mud….

Word on the street said the trails weren’t too bad, and we registered at Kowen Forest on the Saturday afternoon with time for a quick spin round part of the course. What we rode was dry but we both felt slow, and failed to find flow on the trails. This was going to be a tough race.

The morning of race dawned with perfect conditions, cold enough to make us Novocastrians pretty darn chilly but no rain or fog or frost. Tim headed out in the 90km wave starts and I had the new experience of waiting around for the much more social start time of the 50km race.

Under strict instructions to take it easy I put myself towards the back of the large first wave start, I knew we headed into Kowalski Sideshow early on and I didn’t want to be holding up the field if my arm was sore. Before the singletrack however was a decent firetrail climb, which sorted a few people out, it was still conga line into Kowalski Sideshow though and I soon found myself stuck behind a cautious descender.

Overtaking at the first opportunity I started to find a rhythm in the swopping flowing pine forest that is Kowen, and slowly but surely I was passing people a whole lot more than I was being passed. I started pegging back some other girls, knowing that track position was true race position as we’d all started in the same wave, I recognised Flow Mag’s Kath Bicknell as I overtook her but most of the other girls were unfamiliar.

As we crossed over into Sparrow Hill it became evident that the race wasn’t going to be mud free, the tacky ground seemed to suck momentum away from your wheels and it seemed like extra effort was required to keep the wheels rolling.

Crossing back into Kowen we hit our first real mud, and a while lot of fairly new cut track which didn’t have the same flow as the Kowen we know. About this time I caught another girl and when I passed her told me that I had just moved into 2^nd overall female. She stuck on my wheel and we bumped and ground our way through some fairly unforgiving single track, including new switch back climbs up to the highest point in Kowen. She seemed happy on my wheel so I took the opportunity to back off the pace a touch both to recover and to avoid potential crashes which would have been easy to come by in that section of track.

We introduced ourselves and it turns out she was 3^rd placed female in Capital Punishment when I had flatted, meaning we were probably very evenly matched in speed. In fact she’d won her entry as fastest female day lap at the Mont, while I had fastest night lap – pity the Kowalski was a daylight race!

Coming into the feed station I knew I had to drop her off my wheel in the singletrack as I felt she was strong enough to out sprint me on the firetrail if we came to the finish together. I was too engrossed in racing to notice that the feed station had espresso coffee and egg and bacon rolls – how awesome!

Putting the power down through the next section I could feel my arm, as log rollovers were a major feature. But the whole “taking it easy” directive had been lost in the red mist as I had a good gap now on the girl behind.

Coming into tracks familiar from the Mont24 I kept the pace high, but riding familiar tracks in reverse is tricky and my front wheel and I had a falling out on a loose corner. Superwoman flew over the bars and landed without major injury to the bionic arm – thank goodness. Back on the bike and a hasty look behind, she hadn’t caught me despite the spill.

East Kowen was a feature of the Mont this year but the Kowalski route found a few extra hills, in particular a firetrail grind up the next feedstation where I could catch glimpses of the chasing girl behind. Then a loose descent where a near-miss made me slow things down a little before we were back on familiar trails in a familiar direction.

The legs were well and truly threatening to cramp now but it was so close to home, this whole 50km racing thing was a new experience – I was going a whole lot harder knowing it more like a long XCO race than a the marathons I’m used to.

Finally I hit the final fire trail and looking back knew I had a clear run home, I crossed the finish line as second overall female just two minutes off first - but first in my category. I had also put a minute and a half into the girl behind. I that point I was pretty happy that I wasn’t heading out on loop two as the 90km riders were doing, I’d passed a lot of 90km riders despite starting a good 45 minutes behind them – it was going to be a long day out for some people.

Most 100km races have fair portion of fire trail or road, the Kowalski has almost none, which makes it a tough race. I’ll be back next year for sure, maybe I’ll even stop for a bacon and egg roll!