Filthy back packers

It takes a special person to be a back packer... Travelling around the world with the absolute bare minimum of belongings and even less money. Being alone in countries where they don't speak the language and trying to ask for directions. Sharing a dorm room with a dozen other people and then having to share 1 bathroom with 20 more. Having to wash the 3 sets of clothes they have in said bathroom with communal soap and struggling to get them dry. 

I have a strange sense of envy when I see them but it is mixed with feelings of pity and compassion. Sure, they may look like a filthy back packer but I bet they have 101 brilliant stories they could share with you. If only they looked more approachable and less, well, homeless. 

Today, I was the filthy back packer... 

My friend is visiting from Australia at the moment and we decided (well I told him) to do a hike up Montserrat. In the past, I have a history of turning adventures like this into what others classify as an 'ordeal' through lack of planning and preparation so he was somewhat hesitant and even sent a 'goodbye' message to his wife before we left.

Despite my preference to do things on a wing and a prayer, I decided in order to redeem myself, that I should be a bit more ready. I made sandwiches and packed a lunch. I even put a couple of cold beers in so that we could enjoy them at the top amidst the wonderful views. I checked the weather (for where I was at the time and not Montserrat) and it said cloudy. The previous days had been spectacular so I was sure it would be ideal. 

When we began the walk, it was hot. Crazy hot. I was dreading the next 4km of hiking. After about 1.5km, I felt a few rain drops on my face and pointed out that some ominous clouds were moving in. My friend disagreed and we continued on. 

After 2km, it started to rain. It was the kind of rain that feels like it could turn to hail at any moment. Huge, fat droplets that are freezing cold. I suggested that we turn back but having come this far, we were determined to get to the top. 

The trail turned into a river of brown flowing water and we were shivering like drowned rats but we pressed on through the mud and slippery rocks. As we neared the top, the sun seemed to come out again and we finished the walk in relative comfort. Then the rain drops did turn to hail. 

 



 

Just as we reached the top, the skies opened up and dumped down hail, rain, thunder and lightning for what seemed an eternity. We were freezing and had nothing but t-shirts and shorts on so we did what any filthy back packer would do. We went into a room of vending machines and tried to get warm by the heat from the refrigerator motors. My friend even resorted to hugging the coke machine. 

Water flooded down the mountain so the trails were not an option for our return to the car on the other side of the mountain. Our preferred option was to take the cable car down the mountain and then walk the 6km road back up to the car. Then the power went out. 

This meant that now our only other option was to catch the train down the other side of the mountain and walk the 9km back up to the car. We had no choice. 

We made a run for the train along with everyone else as soon as the rain stopped. As we got close to the bottom of the mountain, as if karma wanted to kick us in the groin, the heavy rain started again and we began our walk back to the car even more wet and cold than before. 

Soaked to the bone, shivering cold and walking along a main road, we decided to try to hitch hike our way back. One car stopped and after awkwardly conveying our predicament, the driver told us we couldn't fit because of the passenger and 4 dogs he had in the car with him. I think he just didn't want to pick up a couple of filthy hitch hikers. 

The rain finally stopped and we made it to the car. I have never been more relieved to feel the hot air coming out of the air vents. Strangely, I still have the reputation of having adventures turn into ordeals. 

Tour de Korea

A couple of months ago, after a long stint of races, I became a bit fatigued and my race schedule had to change. I was able to take some rest back home in Australia before the Team's next big races at the Tour de Beauce in Canada and the Tour de Korea. I was scheduled for the 'easier' race, the Tour de Korea. This would be my second attempt at the race after 2011 where I crashed out on stage 3.

 

 

To be honest, we were all under the impression that Korea would be easier. Even though it only lasts for half as many days, the Tour de Beauce is know for being very lumpy and usually has a strong field of teams in the race. Korea was expected to have a few bunch sprint finishes so the team sent Andrea along, one of the team's sprinters.

 

 

Stage 1 in Korea started out in the usual fashion... crazy attacks, big open roads and no breakaways allowed to form. After around 100km, the race somehow split in half. Three of us were in the front half and continued to race on with Andrea sprinting to 10th, but strangely, the other half of the race seemed to have no interest in racing and finished a long way back. We though that this was a sign of things to come.

 

We were wrong.

 

From the race hotel, or pretty much anywhere you stand, every direction you looked seemed to have mountains in the back drop. In fact, the internet tells me that over 70% of South Korea's terrain is mountains! Not just small bumps either, but proper mountains. Check out this list of mountain peaks in Korea... You would think that this would slow the race down, especially when the stages are around 200km long, but it seemed to do the opposite. It seemed to inspire the breakaways.

 

 

Every stage started in a frenzy of attacks. The first 50-80km was done at warp speed as riders attacked and chased each other down at the front. I would try to get in the break, keen to do well but also wary of how long and difficult the stages are. After trying for the first 50km, it seemed that as soon as I sat in to rest, a small break would just roll off the front.

 

 

On a hilly stage of 200km and a chasing peloton of 110+ riders, you would think that it is extremely unlikely that the break would stay away until the end. Despite this, the break somehow managed to stay away and finish ahead of the peloton, sometimes by only a few seconds. It was mind-boggling that a group of 5 guys could out-run a peloton charging at full steam. This was frustrating as it was taking away our opportunities for our sprinter to do his thing.

 

 

Due to a couple of difficult mountain stages and breakaways stealing the win, the final stage became our last opportunity to get Andrea into the sprint. It was a relatively short and flat stage of just over 80km which meant that although we could finish fast and fresh, so could everybody else! The final km's were hectic but Andrea managed to round out the tour with another top 10 finish.

 

So that was the end to the 'easier', Tour de Korea. I don't think that any of us have ever been more happy to see the end of a race. With 1310km in 8 days at an average speed of 40kph and 14000m of climbing, the Tour de Korea is definitely not the 'easy' option.

 

 

 

Time poor

When I was working full time and trying to train as much as I could, I never really took a step back to take an overall look at my lifestyle. My last 4 weeks at home have been a real eye opener to the hectic and time-poor lifestyle that I used to live and that so many people still do. 

Now that I have the luxury of having a little more time, I can take advantage of all the small things that I never used to be able to do such as starting my ride after the sun has come up. However, watching my wife go about her daily routine has given me a new appreciation for the fact that I am able to. 

My wife works full time so spends around 9hrs per day at her work place. This just happens to be a 30-45min drive away depending on traffic. Sometimes she has a meeting after work or catches up with friends for a coffee so doesn't get home until late. Then she has to do all the usual things like cook dinner, laundry etc etc etc. 

This all makes for a pretty jam packed day so if she wants to go for a run or exercise, she has to do it before she leaves for work. This means that my wife wakes up a 4am to go for a quick run before racing around to organise breakfast and prepare for the day ahead. 

Like most people, my wife cannot leave work where it belongs and is constantly bringing home more jobs and tasks to take up what little time she has. When I think about it, I can't believe that I used to do the same thing. 

Because time is such a precious commodity, even the simplest of things can become a nightmare. How do you fit in receiving a delivery that only comes between 9am-5pm? How do you get to the post office to send something between those same hours? How do you find time to go the the department of transport between 9am-4pm just to change your address? How do you even find time to do the groceries?

Take a step back and take a look at your lifestyle... The way we live is ridiculous!

Tour d'Azerbaidjan

At the start of the Month, I headed to Azerbaijan for a race before returning to Australia for a short break. When I told people I was going to Azerbaijan, pretty much everyone had never heard of it or knew where it was. To be honest, I had to look it up too. Turns out, Azerbaijan is in the Middle East, surrounded by Iran, Georgia, Armenia and Russia. The race was based out of the capital city, Baku in the East, on the shores of the Caspian Sea.

 

 

When I looked at the stages for the Tour, I assumed that the race was going to be very similar to other races that I had done in Asia... big open highways, large peloton and lots of crazy breakaway attempts. I was keen to be on the attack early in the race and see what happens.

 

 

Stage 1 started on the highways heading out of Baku. We had a massive tailwind so the race started very fast. I managed to get off the front of the bunch with a couple of others, holding a gap of only a couple of hundred meters before being reeled in. I rolled back through the peloton to catch my breath, just before we turned a corner. Then the wind came.

 



We turned into 70kph crosswinds that tore the peloton into pieces. Everyone was riding at a 30 degree angle to the right as we leaned into the wind to stay upright. If you looked at the race, it seemed as though we were riding sideways across a steep hill. We were basically riding through a sand storm! I have never ridden in such strong winds before. Back home, if it is that windy it means that there is a cyclone coming and you probably lock yourself inside and secure any loose objects! Eventually, I found myself in grupetto and we had to ride 130km into the crazy winds to finish the stage. It was a long, tough day in the office.

That night after the stage, I discovered something. It turns out that Azerbaijan is one of the windiest countries on the planet with strong winds for more than 250 days of the year. On top of that, the city name of 'Baku' is actually derived form the old Persian name, Bād-kube, meaning "Wind-pounded city" and the nickname for Baku is the 'City of Winds'! As expected then, the weather prediction for Stage 2 was much the same.

 

Stage 2 began in a much more calmly manner, with a small break going off the front and the peloton cruising along at 30kph. I was in need of a nature break but wary of the wind, I was somewhat reluctant to pull over. For about 10km, I ummed and ahhed over whether I should pull over to stop before finally deciding that I couldn't hold it anymore and the bunch was going slow enough for it to not be a problem. I rolled to the back of the race and the moment I unclipped my shoe, someone attacked at the front of the race.

 

At the exact moment I decided to pull over, the race was on. The wind split the field into pieces again and for the second day in a row, I was stuck in grupetto, chasing hard for 150km to finish the stage. It was an even longer and tougher day than Stage 1.

 

For the next two stages, the leading team took control of the race and everything seemed a bit more organized. I stayed near the front of the race the entire time as I did not want to get caught out by the wind again and recovered the best I could from the first 2 days' efforts.

 

The final stage was another long day with 200km of racing, finishing with 5 circuits in Baku city. Each circuit contained a climb through the city on narrow cobblestone streets and the field would almost be single file as it went through. The commisaires were quick to pull dropped riders out of the race due to the traffic so it was important to hang on to the front group for as long as possible. Fortunately, I managed to stay with them until the 4th trip up the climb and was relieved to finish the Tour.

 

 

 

With all of the carnage from the wind, at the end of the race, only 91 riders out of 150 starters managed to finish the race! I now know why the Tour d'Azerbaidjan has a reputation for being a difficult race... its like riding through a cyclone in the middle of a desert!

Why a metre does NOT matter...

Before I start, let me just say that this is only my opinion. It’s probably not right but everyone is entitled to an opinion. Just like you…

So Queensland has just implemented a law that requires cars to give at least 1m of space when overtaking a cyclist. Despite this, I’m still getting bombarded with stories on Facebook of cyclists being hit by cars and equally bombarded by the rage of drivers in the comments section. Everyone (well, cyclists mainly) are celebrating the new law but I’m willing to bet money that it has no affect at all. Why???? Because implementing a law that requires a car to give cyclists 1m of space is like making a law that requires you to give up your seat on the bus to heavily pregnant women or the elderly. If you are not already doing it, then there is probably something fundamentally wrong with you as a human being.

 
Think about it. 1m is not much room. If I get within 1m of another car when I’m trying to park, I start to panic and I will probably back up. If you are driving within 1m of another moving object that you cannot predict the movement of, then you really should question your driving abilities. Actually, you really should question your basic manners and scruples because giving 1m is a simple courtesy given out of the respect for another human being. If you ever think ‘how can I possibly give 1m of room’, (which I have seen in many of the comments from irate drivers), then you are a straight out (insert rude word here).

In a few days, I will be heading back to Brisbane for a couple of weeks of no racing and I’m not looking forward to riding on QLD roads again. Since leaving in January, I have had a total of 1 car beep their horn at me and about 3 cars that have passed close enough to me for me to think, ‘hmmmm, that was a bit close’.

So why are the attitudes of drivers so different here in Spain?  Well, for starters, it seems like absolutely no one in Spain is in a hurry to get anywhere. Cars will sit behind you for as long as it takes before they pass safely and even give you a wave as they go by. In fact, they are so patient that it can actually be annoying to me as a cyclist. If a car is behind me for an extended period of time, I start to panic and think that they are just going to be getting more and more angry so I should make room for them to pass. But they never do. At traffic lights, cars will sit in line without making a noise if the light turns green and no one notices. Then they will take off at a snail’s pace.

It’s as if the default state of mind here in Spain is relaxed and calm. Everyone just wants to chill out with family and friends and see that others get to do the same. I mean, heck, everything closes for 4hrs a day so that people can eat with the family and have a nap! The traffic lights favor the pedestrian crossings and if you actually are in a hurry, then you take the freeways. As a result, if you are driving on small back roads, there is an unwritten agreement that the right of way goes to the cyclist because if you want to go fast, take a better road!

Back home in Brisbane seems like the exact opposite. The default state of mind seems to be stressed and rushed. Everyone is in a hurry to get somewhere, looking for any shortcut possible to get there quicker and they assume that everyone else is the same. So if a bike is on the road, there is the impression that they are just slowing everyone down and should get out of the way. Shouldn’t we revel in the fact that someone is out enjoying life instead of accusing them of wasting your precious time?

As a cyclist, I can appreciate that people are trying to get from A to B and I do my best to not impede them. I stick the left, I indicate and I wave cars through when I can. It’s simple civility. Giving a cyclist 1m meter of room isn’t a matter of law. It’s a matter of the frame of mind of drivers. Don’t give a metre because it’s a rule. Give a metre because it’s courteous and common decency.

 

Bikes, Beer, Chocolate & Waffles

My friends back home are always raving on about how great the cycling culture in Belgium is. A few even plan trips over to watch some of the bigger races and stay for a few weeks. I have seen all of the pictures and stories on the internet ; crazy Belgian cycling fans causing havoc on the sidelines as they sink beers while screaming at the bikes going past. Despite this, I never really appreciated what they were on about.

Last week I did a classics race in Belgium and got a taste of what its all about. When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was the number of people riding bikes. They were everywhere, even going the wrong way down one-way streets. I was told by my Belgian team mates that in Belgium, everything is okay if you are on a bike.

Before the race was even close to starting, fans had already swamped the team buses and the start area. The Belgian ProTour teams drew a particularly large crowd as fans pushed for water bottles, signatures or even a glimpse of their national heroes.

The race began with a 3km 'parade' around the town of Leuven and the entire course was lined with fans at least 4 deep. For the next 200km, it wasn't much different with people on the side of the road screaming. There was even the odd family stopping for a picnic to watch the race and VIP's sipping champagne seemingly in the middle of nowhere as the race went past. Cycling in Belgium seems to have more spectators than the most popular sport in Australia and it is not just a small portion of the population that appreciates it. There were small kids, families, obvious middle-aged cycling fanatics and elderly folk that cheered just as hard.

Since Belgium is such a cycling passionate place, every Belgium rider racing has high hopes of putting on a good show in their home country. The race is televised live, so getting into the early breakaway means that friends and family will see them racing. The team's 2.5 Belgian riders (1 is from Netherlands so he is pretty much Belgian) were keen to make the break and put in the effort to get away at the start. One rider almost made a gap until the peleton charged it back down. Eventually, a small group of 3 riders managed to get away and the peleton began to ease up. I found myself on the front line and took the opportunity to bridge the gap. Myself and two others joined the 3 leaders and established a lead of over 6 minutes.

As we made our way around the course, people were screaming out my name and urging me on. Apparently, back at the team bus, my presence in the break caused some more fans to come and see what we are all about and before the race was even over, we were on the website of one of Belgium's biggest newspapers!

The passion for cycling in Belgium is phenomenal and it is something that I encourage everyone to experience. If you don't like cycling, that's okay because there are 3 other things that Belgian's are passionate about that you are bound to enjoy... Beer, Chocolate and Waffles! 

Frustration

After a heavy block of training and racing, the body is need of rest and repair. Normally, I can feel when this is the case and there are small signs that indicate that the body needs a break.

The alarm goes off in the morning and I still don’t want to move. I procrastinate about going for a ride and it takes all the energy that I can muster to put on kit and get on the bike. I look for any excuse I can find that suggests that I shouldn’t ride such as, there are 2 clouds in the sky so it’s probably going to rain or I suddenly need to do that odd job around the house that I have been putting off for the last 18 months. And if I do finally manage to get out on the bike, I can barely push the pedals hard enough to get down the driveway. If I notice any of these signs, then generally it’s time to listen to the body and have a rest.

Lately, between all of the races that I have been doing, it has felt like all that I have done is recover and that is all. Consequently, now that I have had a few consecutive days at home, all I feel like doing is ride my bike. I don’t feel tired and motivation is high. However, it turns out that I am still fatigued.

It’s the 21^st century, so there is no more relying on the body or mind to tell me if I am tired. Instead, a simple blood test with several indicators is able to tell me if I am fatigued. Values such as Hematocrit, blood cell count, iron, Creatine Kinase, Lactate Dehydrogenase, Aspartate Aminotransferase and a few others can all tell me if I need to rest.

Every month or so, we get blood tests done and send the results to the team doctors and coaches for interpretation.  My latest batch says that I still need to rest.

So now, instead of fighting the urge to lay in bed and sleep, I am doing the exact opposite. I’m fighting the urge to go for a ride and under the strict instruction of my coach, I have to stay off the bike. I have to say, it is extremely difficult to not ride when you want to.

Soul ride

For the last 3 months, I have pretty much been racing non stop. Between each race, I have spent a maximum of 3 days at home before having to leave again for the next one. This means that when I am home, my only goal is to rest and recover. 

 

My rides don't last for longer than a couple of hours and I can only ride at an easy pace. I search for the flattest, easiest rides that I can find, however, this often means that they are not the most exciting routes in the world. 

I need a soul ride to enjoy it again. A ride because I like to go for a ride. A ride where I don't have to focus on holding a particular power or heart rate and it doesn't matter if I get lost and the ride goes for an hour longer than planned. A ride where I can stop for a coffee if I feel like it and sit for a while. A ride where I can enjoy the view and stop to smell the flowers. 

For the first time in a while, I have a couple of weeks off before the next race. I already have a nice long soul ride planned but first I need to rest after a long stint of racing. Sometimes, you need to take a soul ride to remind yourself that you are doing what you love. 

Good sensations

This time last year I was still back home in Australia preparing to go to the USA for a season of racing. VISA delays meant that I did not leave until early April so I had a lot of early season preparation. 

This year has been very different. I have been racing since January and this weekend will be my 22nd race for the season! And there is plenty more to come. 

On top of the heavier schedule, the racing here in Europe is much harder. The level of the field is higher and it reflects in the speed of the race. More people are wanting to get into the early breakaway which means that the race goes much faster from the start. In today's GP Nobili, we covered the first 100km in less than 2hrs!

Climbs are longer, higher, faster and there is more of them. Couple this with more riders in the race and smaller roads, and it means that position in the peloton is the most important element of the race. If you are not at the front of the race, then you have no chance of finishing at the front of the race. The problem is, you are fighting with 200 guys for the same position on the road! If you are at the back of the race, or even in the middle, you have to brake and sprint out of every corner and fight for your place. There are more crashes, more risk and you use much more energy than the guys at the front. 

So far, the 2014 season has been a big learning curve but, as they say, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. I am definitely in better shape than last year but the harder racing means I feel like I am not going as good!

Vuelta Mexico estar loco!

4 days before the start of the Vuelta Mexico, we were still unsure if the race was going ahead as we had very little details of the event and no itinerary. The race route was found online but it changed on a daily basis. At one point, it contained a 100km individual time trial but 24hrs later, this changed to 2.5km!

Despite this, we arrived in Mexico City the day before the race. Although Mexico City is not at the top of a mountain peak, it has a deceptively high altitude of 2500m. This means that riding a bike felt like someone was standing on your chest while you tried to breath. 

Stage 1 was a relatively short stage of 81km but started with a 30km climb up to 3000m of elevation. Within 5km of starting, riders were struggling to get oxygen and dropping off the back of the bunch. Altitude is a cruel beast. 

Before the start of stage 2, we were told that there was a number of speed bumps during the stage. In fact, there was over 180 speed bumps in just 145km of racing. 

The stage started with a fast downhill section before a short climb and another steep descent. We started the first downhill section at speeds around 70kph when the lead vehicles hit a small problem. Bikes could easily maintain their speed over the speed bumps but the cars struggled to take them at high speed. Halfway down the hill, the neutral spares vehicle at the front of the race hit a speed bump and it's roof racks (and bikes) came flying off!

The race went past without any problems but it meant we had no lead vehicle anymore and we were basically riding alone on the roads of Mexico! When we began the first climb, the cars eventually caught up and neutralised the race.

This turned out to be extremely lucky, as we began the second descent, we hit a section of cobble stones. This was not your typical cobble stones that you could ride over with relative ease. This was more like a bunch of rocks that someone had thrown on the ground and called it a road. 

 

Water bottles went flying, tyres exploded all through the bunch and riders crashed as they tried to navigate their way through the chaos. Once the race started again, it only got worse as cracks in the road that were wide enough put your hand in, caused even more crashes, punctures and general craziness. 

 

Many riders were left stranded on the side of the road as their team cars were held up while trying to help others or slowed by the endless speed bumps! As the race continued on, many were still trying to catch up but thanks to all of the obstacles, it made it almost impossible to maintain any speed! At the end of the stage, some riders finished over 1hr behind the winner after being left alone and getting lost!!

 

Over the next couple of days, many riders including myself, suffered a case of Montezuma's Revenge after some consuming some dodgey food and the race became more about survival than anything else. The altitude eventually got the better of me and I withdrew from the race. 

 

By the time the last stage rolled around, many were pretty keen to leave, especially the rider that had his bike stolen at gun point before the start of the stage! 

 

Needless to say, the Vuelta Mexico was an experience that I won't forget. Everything about it was crazy!!