“It doesn’t matter if you’re sprinting for an Olympic gold medal, a town sign, a trailhead, or the rest stop with the homemade brownies. If you never confront pain, you’re missing the essence of the sport” – Scott Martin
Suffering is bandied about a lot in cycling. It is a badge of honour that riders will wear when they are seen to be able to accommodate higher loads of it. Some people seem to be able to take pain like they are eating an apple in a deck chair, whilst others put their hand up and say ‘enough’ at the slightest difficulty.
Click here to read on about how to keep going when it seems impossible to do so
Riding with a fixed gear on the road gives you a feeling like no other. You feel intimately connected with the terrain you are riding on. Without the use of gears or a freewheel, you must adapt yourself to the terrain, so steep means grinding, descending is spinning, and flats are about rolling through everything.
Continue reading “Fixie In The Hills – Fixed Gear Climbing”
My mate Scott told me about Everesting in 2014. We had done a few Ironman races together, and were pretty keen to sink our teeth into any endurance challenge that we could find. Still, I thought the idea just sounded dumb. Seriously, what was the damn point? Ride repeats of a hill, until you have done a shed-tonne of elevation gain, and at the end you get….. a self five for achieving it. Yeah, nah.
Then I started caring less about triathlons, and focused a whole lot more on cycling. It wasn’t a conscious decision, it just sort of happened. I was riding as a tour guide during the Tour Down Under, and for whatever reason, I suddenly had a compulsion to complete an Everesting. Weird. It just came out of nowhere, and all of a sudden this was the most important thing that I could think of to do on a bike. Click to read on about where my Hells 500 time all began
This is the third installment in a 3 part series. To read Part 1 click here. To read Part 2, click here.
Continued from part 2:
We got to Salt Creek some time after midnight, I really have no idea of exactly when it was. A quick water in and water out stop, and we looked down the road for a spot to sleep. The winner was literally a ditch, filled with native grass, in the open. I just cannot think of a better example of our determination to finish this ride than the fact we had a nap in a ditch on the side of the highway, in just our cycling clothes. It was bloody comfy too…
210 kilometres to go…
That is manageable. We had all ridden in excess of that on plenty of occasions. Next stop Meningie. On the way the sun came up, and it couldn’t have come sooner. Well for some of us, Sam was riding stronger than an ox. Even before the sun comes up – 48 hours into a ride, he is full of chirp. At least Pete, James and I had all shown fatigue at some point. How does this all conclude? Click for the final chapter
This is the second installment in a 3 part series. To read Part 1 click here.
(Continued)….1am rolled around, and it was back on the road. Man I felt awful. Tired, cold, and back on the hypnotic misery of the flat, dark and straight highway. I started to get small thoughts, doubting that I would make it. These thoughts always come on a long event. They are just part and parcel of pushing your limits. That’s how you know you are approaching your boundaries, because you start to feel you can’t go on.
600 kilometres to go…. This story enters a dark phase, click to read the full chapter
For ages I resisted, I refused to shave my legs. I would actively make fun of any of my friends who did do it, I just thought it was dumb. Then over time, that opinion softened somewhat, then a lot, and now I have silky smooth legs all of the time. Hell I shaved in the shower earlier today so I would have smooth legs on my non-cycling related work conference in the tropics. click to read more about the REAL reason we shave
I love going big on the bike. Completing a big epic challenge is always appealing, there’s something about the adventure, and overcoming the challenge that I thrive on. Having looked through the Trans Con and Trans Am races, I was drooling at the chance to go and ride one. 4000+ kilometres, unsupported across a continent? YES. Unfortunately the need to feed and house my family somehow cut that plan off at the ankles. Families…. Always getting in the way of stuff…. (Love you darling if you are reading this).
So what else to do? I was scratching around thinking of something, and came up with the idea to ride from Melbourne to Adelaide, non-stop. Click to read on for more of this eric story
I ride my bike a lot. Not ‘pro-level-a-lot’, but 300 kilometres a week I think is a fair bit for a bloke with a full-time job, and a family with 2 small kids under 5. It takes a shed-tonne of planning, and a solid association with the discipline fairy to make that volume work.
But if my wife didn’t support what I did, then I wouldn’t be doing it. I get stacks of comments about how others are jealous that I get to ride so much, and how tolerant my wife must be. My wife is awesome, click to read more
During the TDU, I noticed a lot of differences between the local riders, and our interstate Victorian cousins, so I wrote this article for La Velocita – enjoy.
The Tour Down Under has come and gone, with it’s great racing, great rides and great times.
Being in Adelaide, there are huge numbers of locals that get out on the bike during the event, but with Melbourne being a big drive away, plenty of Victorians get across too. LOTS of them.
It then gives rise to the thoughts of what the differences in cycling culture are between Melburn and Radelaide?
Before a pedal is turned in anger, a Melbournian must, repeat MUST, absolutely consider all principles by which their hair, kit, shoes, socks and body pose will work together………
To read the full article, published at LA VELOCITA, please click here.