Well, lucked out and landed the WARBY gig for the upcoming Great Victorian Bike Ride spanning 10 days from November 28th to December 6th. WARBIES (We Are Right Behind You) are volunteers who ride along with the participants and assist with mechanicals, offer a smile and encouragement etc. Mucho thanks to the Bike Victoria organising team for choosing little ol' WA-based me :).
Had a great time doing those duties during the Great West Australian Bike Ride in March of this year, and am really looking forward to this upcoming experience. Especially looking forward to tootling along the Great Ocean Road. I did the road many years ago on a motorbike – needless to say, I was younger and the challenge wasn't what you could see, rather how fast one could go. So, this time I will definitely get to see a whole lot more.
Apparently there's also the 'famous Laver's Hill'? Meh – don't know and don't want to know: if it's just called a hill, it can't be all that bad, and anyway, I've whacked on a wimpy 50-34 compact crankset on the front of the Dean so I'm all set to climb goat tracks!
The GVBR this year is going to be huge – all sold out, and I think something like close to 6,000 participants! Man, that's an awful lot of potential punctures requiring repair! The WARBIES will be up for it – my past experience definitely confirms it as one of the best volunteer roles in terms of mixing it with the people, and also of the most enjoyable: sometimes hard but always rewarding and fun.
Roll on November 28th! (And the sun and good temps).
Ride safe!
Showing posts with label Dean 'El Diente' Ti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dean 'El Diente' Ti. Show all posts
Saturday, 7 November 2009
Saturday, 8 August 2009
Tangoing with Canis lupus familiaris...
...or, doing the dance of death with the dog (alliteration be damned).
I have always been well alert of dogs whilst riding: keen eyed, sharp, even vigilant. Whilst never having had a run in with the mythical beast whilst on my beast, I've had a few close calls: anything primarily driven by a sense of smell which relegates the miracle of sight to the back row of the central processing unit cannot be trusted. I've seen my own mother's hounds-of-hell crack their heads on cupboards whilst sniffing out treats she'd dropped on the floor, and had always assumed that was not atypical behaviour solely confined to her mutts: in all other aspects they seem typically 'dog'.
So, seeing free-roaming dogs whilst riding has always made me extend the collision detection radar outwards without fail. The problem with this is one has to see them first. Tooling along on my Dean titanium the other day, on a well known road, I encountered a furry fury in the most unfortunate of ways.
Now, I'm assuming the hound was definitely not out to get me: if it had been I feel sure it would've taken advantage of the situation it caused, and been gnawing on my flesh post-haste as soon as I hit the dirt. Nevertheless, it did 'get' me.
I'm not 100% on the actual details – one second I was on my bike cruising at 30km/h, and the next (subsequent to a flash of black fur) I was lying prone in the dreamlike aftermath-of-crash mental state one experiences.
I'd been riding in the middle of the lane, parked cars to my left, and I'm assuming the dog tore out of a small gap between cars just as I arrived adjacent to it. I only caught a fleeting glimpse of a furry blur appearing directly in front of me, when all hell broke loose. Next, I'm sitting up on the road, blinking and computing whether I had all my body parts in their correct place and orientation.
It seemed as if I did, so my thoughts immediately turned to my bike. I stood, picked it up and started examining it, at which point it began to acquire a haphazardly applied blood paint job. Hmmm, OK – it seems that that warm feeling on my face isn't the flush of adrenaline, but rather the flow of blood.
Hands to face, I felt for where the stuff was coming from, coz' it was now a decent little flow. Two places – a rather large gash in my top lip, and a rather larger gash in my chin. Seems like I'd used my face as the initial landing point. Running my tongue around my mouth, I discovered a certain grittiness to its contents: luckily this was sand picked up rather than the remnants of teeth. There is not a mark on my hand or arms, so it looks like it happened so fast I didn't even have time to get my hands down in the usual reflexive protective way.
At this point, it suddenly became imperative that I make sure my bike was OK, get on it, and get home - *shrug*. So, grabbing the cleaning cloth from my seat bag (luckily it was clean), I wiped what blood I could from my face, held the cloth onto my upper lip and chin with one hand whilst I inspected my machine. Chain was half off the crank, but that was quickly remedied, brakes were rubbing but they had just been forced off centre, everything else looked OK. So, of course there is nothing else to do but ride home, yes?
And ride home I did, in one gear and with one hand (my right hand occupied with keeping the cloth to my face). I have no idea of the thought-process-control my brain was exerting – somewhere in there was a message that should've been of prime importance being ruthlessly suppressed: that message was "Riding home 15km with one hand whilst pissing blood isn't conducive to one's continued good health".
But make it home I did, and ring the local medical centre I did, and arrive there I did. 2 hours (1 hour of waiting) and 12 stitches later I was back home.
It's been 3 days since the off, and my upper lip (which was punctured clean through by a tooth) is now more lip and less trunk-like in appearance, and the big chunk separated from my chin is firmly back in place. Some swelling and a bit of road rash remains but it's really nothing: it could've been a hell of a lot worse.
Turns out the bike made it home with a very bent RD hanger – as I didn't change gear I didn't notice at the time. A few little scratches on the shifters, a skewer and the RD hanger housing, but I'm amazed at how little evidence of a 30km/h road hit there is: it certainly faired better than I. I assume the dog hit my front wheel a glancing, sliding blow just enough to send my wheel in one direction and my mass in another, because it is dead straight – not a smidgeon of truing required.
As for the mutt – I have no idea: I never saw it again. It's probably still running around chasing whatever the hell its olfactory engine senses.
Ride safe!
I have always been well alert of dogs whilst riding: keen eyed, sharp, even vigilant. Whilst never having had a run in with the mythical beast whilst on my beast, I've had a few close calls: anything primarily driven by a sense of smell which relegates the miracle of sight to the back row of the central processing unit cannot be trusted. I've seen my own mother's hounds-of-hell crack their heads on cupboards whilst sniffing out treats she'd dropped on the floor, and had always assumed that was not atypical behaviour solely confined to her mutts: in all other aspects they seem typically 'dog'.
So, seeing free-roaming dogs whilst riding has always made me extend the collision detection radar outwards without fail. The problem with this is one has to see them first. Tooling along on my Dean titanium the other day, on a well known road, I encountered a furry fury in the most unfortunate of ways.
Now, I'm assuming the hound was definitely not out to get me: if it had been I feel sure it would've taken advantage of the situation it caused, and been gnawing on my flesh post-haste as soon as I hit the dirt. Nevertheless, it did 'get' me.
I'm not 100% on the actual details – one second I was on my bike cruising at 30km/h, and the next (subsequent to a flash of black fur) I was lying prone in the dreamlike aftermath-of-crash mental state one experiences.
I'd been riding in the middle of the lane, parked cars to my left, and I'm assuming the dog tore out of a small gap between cars just as I arrived adjacent to it. I only caught a fleeting glimpse of a furry blur appearing directly in front of me, when all hell broke loose. Next, I'm sitting up on the road, blinking and computing whether I had all my body parts in their correct place and orientation.
It seemed as if I did, so my thoughts immediately turned to my bike. I stood, picked it up and started examining it, at which point it began to acquire a haphazardly applied blood paint job. Hmmm, OK – it seems that that warm feeling on my face isn't the flush of adrenaline, but rather the flow of blood.
Hands to face, I felt for where the stuff was coming from, coz' it was now a decent little flow. Two places – a rather large gash in my top lip, and a rather larger gash in my chin. Seems like I'd used my face as the initial landing point. Running my tongue around my mouth, I discovered a certain grittiness to its contents: luckily this was sand picked up rather than the remnants of teeth. There is not a mark on my hand or arms, so it looks like it happened so fast I didn't even have time to get my hands down in the usual reflexive protective way.
At this point, it suddenly became imperative that I make sure my bike was OK, get on it, and get home - *shrug*. So, grabbing the cleaning cloth from my seat bag (luckily it was clean), I wiped what blood I could from my face, held the cloth onto my upper lip and chin with one hand whilst I inspected my machine. Chain was half off the crank, but that was quickly remedied, brakes were rubbing but they had just been forced off centre, everything else looked OK. So, of course there is nothing else to do but ride home, yes?
And ride home I did, in one gear and with one hand (my right hand occupied with keeping the cloth to my face). I have no idea of the thought-process-control my brain was exerting – somewhere in there was a message that should've been of prime importance being ruthlessly suppressed: that message was "Riding home 15km with one hand whilst pissing blood isn't conducive to one's continued good health".
But make it home I did, and ring the local medical centre I did, and arrive there I did. 2 hours (1 hour of waiting) and 12 stitches later I was back home.
It's been 3 days since the off, and my upper lip (which was punctured clean through by a tooth) is now more lip and less trunk-like in appearance, and the big chunk separated from my chin is firmly back in place. Some swelling and a bit of road rash remains but it's really nothing: it could've been a hell of a lot worse.
Turns out the bike made it home with a very bent RD hanger – as I didn't change gear I didn't notice at the time. A few little scratches on the shifters, a skewer and the RD hanger housing, but I'm amazed at how little evidence of a 30km/h road hit there is: it certainly faired better than I. I assume the dog hit my front wheel a glancing, sliding blow just enough to send my wheel in one direction and my mass in another, because it is dead straight – not a smidgeon of truing required.
As for the mutt – I have no idea: I never saw it again. It's probably still running around chasing whatever the hell its olfactory engine senses.
Ride safe!
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Dear...
So, was my birthday recently: made the old 49 years! Title refers to a scene in a film (can't remember which) in which some nerd is asked his name, and can only remember it by singing 'Happy Birthday' to himself in his head. Always a chuckle.
Anyhoo, lot's of stuff since the last post, but too much to cover in a single entry.
2009 Freeway Bike Hike for Asthma in March again has been and gone. I really love this event, but at the same time harbour some significant concerns about it, chiefly related to safety.
It's generally very well organised, although once again those waiting for trains on stations south of Perth city seem to get shafted. I was on the second to last train to leave from the city station, and it was packed. We went through the farcical procedure of stopping at stations between Perth and the destination Kwinana to illustrate to those waiting on the platforms that indeed the train was full (perhaps we occupants should have been handed placards reading 'It's FULL suckers' to hold up to the unfortunates). Personally, if this didn't demonstrate to those poor sods the specific shortcomings in this aspect of the event, I don't know what would?
It's also a lovely and, at times, picturesque trundle: roads are excellent, views are nice (river crossings, Perth skyscape etc).
It's fun too, and riding in a large co-operative group should be enjoyable.
Problem is - it's sometimes not. I've done all of the Hikes, always in the 'A' (slightly more rapid) group, and on each occasion there has been at least one pileup. I've never been directly involved - all bar one of the crashes have happened further back in the pack I've been in - but this year there was a severe fall ahead of me which required some rather boisterous active avoidance.
Riders just get way too aggressive: the competitive urge transforms many from hack riders, like most of us are, into imagined pros who are elbowing, wheel sucking, and generally barging around as if it's a professional peleton (which is ironic, as I'm pretty sure a lot of stuff that occurs wouldn't be tolerated in a pro pack). That, plus the fact that a lot of riders are on their limit just staying with the pack (a fact evidenced by the constant speed changes and rubber banding, people pushing past and then dying in front of you etc) means shit is all over the place.
It makes for a very trying time - I think I enjoyed the slow 35 km trundle back home more!
I also participated in a little shindig called The Great Escapade in late in March/early April, a 9 day Tour in South West WA run by Bicycle Victoria. I say 'little' with tongue firmly embedded in cheek: over 2000 paid-up riders, lots of volunteers (of which I was one), close to 600 kms, and a whole bunch of fun! I was a WARBY (We Are Right Behind You) - a riding assistant to all the paying customers, and it was one of the best cycling experiences I've had! More about my experiences on this event in the coming weeks.
Lastly - I have a new bike! The Colnago CX-1 referenced in my previous post dug its claws into me and wouldn't let go, so I am now the proud owner of one of these gorgeous 'machinas'. Many more kms required yet (naturally it arrived two days before I headed off on the Great Escapade, on which I was using my Dean Ti frame, so it hasn't seen a lot of action) but it looks beautiful, fits great, is feathery light and is very stiff; it takes off like shot when I put my full (albeit measly) output through it. Climbs, here I come!
Kudos and praise to the guys Angus and Chris at Cycles Bespoke for turning it into a bike from various bits. A fantastic, accurate and fastidious build of which I'm extremely happy. Cheers guys!.
Hmmm, maybe some nice Campy Eurus wheels would set if off just fine...
Anyhoo, lot's of stuff since the last post, but too much to cover in a single entry.
2009 Freeway Bike Hike for Asthma in March again has been and gone. I really love this event, but at the same time harbour some significant concerns about it, chiefly related to safety.
It's generally very well organised, although once again those waiting for trains on stations south of Perth city seem to get shafted. I was on the second to last train to leave from the city station, and it was packed. We went through the farcical procedure of stopping at stations between Perth and the destination Kwinana to illustrate to those waiting on the platforms that indeed the train was full (perhaps we occupants should have been handed placards reading 'It's FULL suckers' to hold up to the unfortunates). Personally, if this didn't demonstrate to those poor sods the specific shortcomings in this aspect of the event, I don't know what would?
It's also a lovely and, at times, picturesque trundle: roads are excellent, views are nice (river crossings, Perth skyscape etc).
It's fun too, and riding in a large co-operative group should be enjoyable.
Problem is - it's sometimes not. I've done all of the Hikes, always in the 'A' (slightly more rapid) group, and on each occasion there has been at least one pileup. I've never been directly involved - all bar one of the crashes have happened further back in the pack I've been in - but this year there was a severe fall ahead of me which required some rather boisterous active avoidance.
Riders just get way too aggressive: the competitive urge transforms many from hack riders, like most of us are, into imagined pros who are elbowing, wheel sucking, and generally barging around as if it's a professional peleton (which is ironic, as I'm pretty sure a lot of stuff that occurs wouldn't be tolerated in a pro pack). That, plus the fact that a lot of riders are on their limit just staying with the pack (a fact evidenced by the constant speed changes and rubber banding, people pushing past and then dying in front of you etc) means shit is all over the place.
It makes for a very trying time - I think I enjoyed the slow 35 km trundle back home more!
I also participated in a little shindig called The Great Escapade in late in March/early April, a 9 day Tour in South West WA run by Bicycle Victoria. I say 'little' with tongue firmly embedded in cheek: over 2000 paid-up riders, lots of volunteers (of which I was one), close to 600 kms, and a whole bunch of fun! I was a WARBY (We Are Right Behind You) - a riding assistant to all the paying customers, and it was one of the best cycling experiences I've had! More about my experiences on this event in the coming weeks.
Lastly - I have a new bike! The Colnago CX-1 referenced in my previous post dug its claws into me and wouldn't let go, so I am now the proud owner of one of these gorgeous 'machinas'. Many more kms required yet (naturally it arrived two days before I headed off on the Great Escapade, on which I was using my Dean Ti frame, so it hasn't seen a lot of action) but it looks beautiful, fits great, is feathery light and is very stiff; it takes off like shot when I put my full (albeit measly) output through it. Climbs, here I come!
Kudos and praise to the guys Angus and Chris at Cycles Bespoke for turning it into a bike from various bits. A fantastic, accurate and fastidious build of which I'm extremely happy. Cheers guys!.
Hmmm, maybe some nice Campy Eurus wheels would set if off just fine...
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