HELL ON THE HAY PLAINS

I had a great sleep that night inside the Gunbar Town Hall and being inside certainly made it easy to get out of bed before sunrise and get the day started.There was something about not having to brace myself for the frigid wind first thing that motivated me to get up in the dark and make a coffee so I could watch the sun rise on a new day.My enthusiasm waned a little once I did open the doors at the back of the hall and let the morning chill in,holy cow it was cold!!I decided that I'd wait until the sun was just about up before stepping out again there was lots for me to do in preparation for the days ride to Hay to keep me busy for a while. Once it did start to lighten up I made the effort and was rewarded with the most beautiful of sunrise to welcome in a clear crisp morning.Too bloody crisp for my liking!
There was no delaying it though and just before 7am I rolled my rig out of the hall and rode up on to the highway for the 78k ride to Hay.I was hoping to get to Hay well before lunchtime and then ride out the other side for about an hour or so,first things first though I had to get there and the way my legs felt in that first hour I new that the plan might be a little harder to adhere to than I'd hoped.For some reason my legs were really sore and there was just no power to the pedals at all.I hoped that I would have a repeat of the previous couple of days and once I warmed up the pain would go away but that morning it didn't.I'm guessing the cold didn't help either.
About half an hour into the day the wind started.At first it wasn't really a problem but as it increased it took a lot more energy to maintain my speed and that only made my legs hurt even more.I put on another layer in the hope that if my core was warm then my legs might warm up a bit more but that didn't help so I just resigned myself to a slow old day and geared down to a very slow spin.The problem with riding so slowly with the load I have is that you start to lose control of the front end of the bike more easily and with a wind coming at me from the front left it meant I was constantly being pushed into the center of the road.That sucked.
As the kilometers rolled by the wind picked up and I started to get colder and colder.This was a sign to me that there was something else going on.I figured that I must be really run down to feel the cold like this or perhaps I hadn't eaten enough to deal with the cold and riding into the wind.I found the only bit of shelter that could(behind a fence over a cattleguard)and opened a can of beans.Even though I was behind a shelter the wind cut through my clothes and started to chill the sweat that was soaking the layers of clothing below.I pulled on my windproof gear and paced around for a while just hating the day to death.I must have looked a sight because a kombi van loaded up with a hippie family from South Australia pulled up and asked if I needed help.I told them I was fine but I gotta admit,if that van was empty and the driver had offered me a lift then I would have seriously thought about taking it.Instead I sucked it up and got back out there and crept along at a sad 12kph.Christ,I can run faster than that!!!!On top of all that I had a bloody aggressive magpie chase me down the highway for about 500meters swooping me and pecking at my helmet.I was too tired and cranky to do battle with a flaming bird after the shitty day I'd had but he would not let me go and thankfully there was no traffic around cause I was just weaving all over the place under the magpies attack.
The closer I got to town the worse I felt and I really started to lose it.I was yelling and screaming at everything around which,if you look at the photos is a whole lot of nothing.I perservered though, ten kilometers at a time and as midday rolled around I realised that this must be the slowest 78k that I have ever ridden.God would this town ever show up?One thing though,I knew my legs needed a rest because every time I lost the plot and yelled I felt the blood surge through both legs and they hurt like shit.I've never felt that before and it was really,really odd.I needed a day off.
I finally rolled into the little country town of Hay at about 1pm a full 6 hours after I started the 78k trip that morning.Sooooooo slow on a day which was dead flat!!I meandered through the towns main street until I found a motel that looked nice and pulled ino the driveway of the Bidgee Motor Inn where I found the owner hanging around in the driveway.We had a quick chat and a few minutes later I was under a hot shower hurting like hell until my extremeties warmed up.I was checked in for two nights which would give me one full day off and hopefully time for my legs to recover.

I am by nature a pretty lazy person and when I'm on a trip like this one that last thing I want to do when I reach a designated rest day destination is run around like a nut trying to see stuff.I see enough stuff on the road so generally I stay indoors and work on my blog or just mellow out on the the laptop or,as I did in Hay,watch movies.This motel had cable tv with three movie channels and to me that is heaven on a stick.I did a bit of shopping and did have a walk around town but apart fro excursions to the fish and chip shop and one trip to the laundromat my time was spent spread out on the big bed watching cool movies.Bliss!

The morning I was supposed to leave I made the decision that I really didn't want to get out on the road just yet.I had been really dissappointed that there had been no more interest in my trip from some tri-industry people I'd contacted and that kind of dulled my enthusiasm.I couldn't expect people to want to donate money to the Athletes in Kind cause so I became resigned to the fact that I'm not a good fundraiser at all and that made me wonder what I should do regarding the rest of my trip.I did enjoy being out there but I started feeling that I should just bail on the blog and I mentioned that on my Facebook page.Thankfully I did recieve some encouragement from the small group of people who have been following my trip and I decided to give it another few weeks to see if interest lifted.I not maybe I'll just go sit on a beach somewhere and find some fun people to hang out with.There was also the problem of funds.Was I going to allow myself to go broke promoting a cause that nobody outside Vancouver was interested in?Should I just bail and get a job? I didn't know what to do and I spent a good portion of my rest day feeling very sad.

Early the next morning I started to feel a bit off colour and my stomache turned on me.I had been feeling a bit feverish overnight but now I started feeling light headed and my stomache let go in a big way.I don't know what kind of bug I'd picked up or if it was just part of being run down but I lost my appetite completely and what I did eat went straight through me.I was going nowhere fast again.The up side was that I could stay and watch the Ironman World Triathlon Championships live on my laptop.I thought I was going to miss it but in the end it was great.I'd hoped that I could get away the next morning but there was no way and eve the staff at the motel became concerned about my welfare.I figured though tat whatever I had would run it's course and flush itself out in due course.The worry I had was that I was probrably spending way too much money stalled in a motel in Hay.I was supposed to be raising money and not spending it.I went into the office to pay for my fifth(and hopefully last) nigt in the motel but the owner Julie would have none of it.I guess she felt bad for me and told me that as a donation in kind for my cause she would give me that night free.I was amazed and touched by her generosity.She and her husband Mark are great people and it that little gesture did more to motivated me to continue than anything I'd experienced that week.It was just what I needed to pick me up and ge my head in the right place.I can't thank them enough.

So,next stop should be Ceduna in South Australia some 1400 kilometers away.It's going to take about 16 days to get there as I will be cutting down on my daily bike milage in order to be able to up the bike intensity and at the same time allow an increase in run and swim training.I have lots of time and I refuse to allow myself to feel the pressure to ride long distances or to get to a place just to update this blog.I have promised the friends who are following my blog tat I will keep it going as I'm value their interest and really,if I can share a little bit of what I'm up to with a few people who really are interested then it is my pleasure to keep doing so.Thanks' guys for being interested,I doubt very much that the S.E. Asia leg of my trip will be happening after Ironman in December as I will run out of funds but I live in hope that someone out there in the corporate world will decide to join me now ,while things are tough and uncertain, instead of jumping on the old bandwagon when it's all over.Either way I've got 3,000 kilometers to cover and an Ironman to train for and that 'aint going to get done by sitting here watching movies for the next month.Time to hit the road again.

CHILLY DAYS AND FREEZING NIGHTS

It was really great to wake up the next morning to a dry tent and dry ground.The cold morning air I could have done without but I knew that it wouldn't take too long to warm up once I was underway again.Well, that was the theory anyway.Once packed up and on the road it was bloody freezing and I didn't need any encouragement to pull into the first big truckstop that I saw after only 15k of riding.I wanted real food ,hot coffee and a warm place to sit in for a while and hat truckstop was just the ticket.I wanted to stall for a while anyway as I needed to get to a grocery store to buysome supplies for the isolated stretch that I would soon be facing on the ride to Hay some 260k away. Once inside the truckstop I soon got to chatting to a nice family from Queensland who were also really feeling the cold as they drove through to South Australia to visit relatives.They were pretty interested in my trip and it was while I was chatting to them that I realised just what was different about this part of my trip and what was bugging me so much.I had mentioned to these people that I had found riding through Queensland much more friendly and fun than the last few days(if you take the weather out of the equation) and the main reason I came up with was that in Queensland the rest areas allow overnight camping and caravan stays while in New South Wales that was not an option.That meant that the sort of chance meetings with fellow travellers I'd had during the first month of my trip were not likely to happen again until the Nullabor Plain about three weeks ride away.So unless I really made the effort to talk to random people or hooked up with a fellow cyclist then I was to be really doing it solo for the next little while.As I am quite a social creature I didn't like the thought of that.I spent way too much time hanging out in that truckstop but I really enjoyed it but when I looked at a clock on the wall and realised that the state had changed to daylight saving time it dawned on my that I was actually two hours behind my schedule for the day.I said my goodbyes to the staff at the truckstop and rode on into West Wyalong to a grocery store and bought some supplies for the next three days.The road broke up a little on that stretch of highway and it made for a rough ride but it was still great compared to Nth Queensland so I wasn't going to complain too much.I was too busy complaining to the cows on the side of the road about the damn cold wind.I had to ride the whole damn day in three layers of clothing just to keep warm.It sucked but I made pretty good time on a pretty uneventful day.At around 78k into the day I rode into the little town of Weethalle which pretty much consisted of a pub,a cop station,an info hut and few houses and a little old gas station.I needed to fill up all my water bottles for the night so I pulled into the gas station and a minute or so later was sitting in front of a nice hot coffee chatting to the four travellers sitting in the restaurant as the owners fussed about telling all kinds of stories about the other cyclist who had ridden through tow over the years.They even had a table with a bunch of framed photographs of a few of the riders who had sent pictures back to them after their trip had finished.One guy caught my attention as he had apparently ridden a recumbent solo and unsupported 4,000k from Perth to Bondi Beach in Sydney in a little over 11 days.WTF!!!!!That is some seriously super speedy cycling and sure made me feel like a slowpoke.I sat around chatting for a while enjoying the two free slices of chocolate cake that the owners gave me.It was awesome and just what I needed to fuel me up for the last 28k of the day that I needed to cover to make up my 100k daily total.

The last hour and a half of riding was done into a ever-increasing headwind which reduced me to crawling speed.Thankfully it was warming up a little bit and the sky looked clear so I was looking foward to another dry night ahead as I turned off the higway at the 100k mark and looked for a suitable camping spot.I had just passed a huge grain silo and figured that there might be some shelter out of the wind close to the collection of buildings surround it.I turned off and rode around to the back of the silo complex and into the scrub behind.I was right in that there was lots of shelter but once I took off my shoes and started to walk around setting up camp I realised that I'd made a huge mistake.My socks soon became encrusted with small thorns and my feet were experiencing some kind of natural acupuncture session.I didn't mind the pain of the thorns in my feet so much,it was the thought of just how many thorns had stuck into my tyres just waiting to puncutre my tubes.I was so pissed off at myself as I quickly packed up my gear again and rode another kilometer or so down the highway looking for a more suitable camping spot.

I found a nice sheltered spot down a dirt track off the highway.It was a nice,thorn free flat spot sheltered behind a stand of small pine trees and I quickly set about making camp for the night.Once the tent was up and the water heating on the stove I tended to the countless thorns that were still stuck in the soles of my feet.I was too impatient to pick them out one by one with tweezers so I just opened the blade of my pocket-knife and scraped the crap out of my feet until all the offening needles were removed.The tyres on my bike and trailer semmed to have survived intact and so I as able to breathe easy and enjoy my dinner without the worry of flat tyres to ruin what was a pretty good day on the road.That evening I was treated to a clear sky and a beautiful sunset which turned the ground and sky all around me into a bright purple haze,something I would see a lot of while I was riding over the rich,rust coloured dirt that this part of Australia is famous for.The cold night wasn't such a treat but it could have been worse,the ants nest I had camped near could have housed some really nasty little critters but instead the scary looking,inch long ants left me alone and were not the slightest bit interested in my tent.Thank god for small mercies.The next morning was just plain bloody freezing and the nine kilometer ride into Rankine Springs was not a great way to start the day.I passed the only truck stop in town just wishing like hell for a hot coffee but after the memories of dicking around for too long in Wyalong came back to me I forced myself to ride on without a break(like I needed one after 9k-lazy bastard).My legs did feel like absolute shit though and turning into the wind after riding through town just made things worse as I crawled out of town.

I had been told that the hills were behind me once I left Cowra but the stupidly steep hill I hit about 5k out of Rankine Springs just really got me pissed of at all those well meaning motorists who keep teeling me that there are no more hills to ride.Just goes to show,what is flat in a car is not so flat on a flamin bike.Anyway,enough ranting because as soon as I climbed the 2-3k pitch to the top of the pass there was a huge downhill that saw me coasting happily(although frigidly)into the next valley.The long descent gave me the chance to eat and drink and shortly afterward my legs started to come good and I was making great time riding up and over the countless rolling hills that seemed forever to have me facing skyward.As the morning progressed the road straightened and the wind picked up leaving me in a struggle to stay on the grey strip of asphalt that stretched on in front of me as far as the eye could see. The road had narrowed and it was a mental battle against the cold,the wind and the trucks who were trying their best to give me a wide berth.I even had a friendly local cop stop and ask if everything was going okay for me as he was concerned about the danger of riding on such a windy day on that narrow road.I was fine and told him I'd be stopping for lunch at Goolgowi another 20k further up the road and then gave him an estimate of where I'd be stopping for the night.He said he'd keep an eye out for me to make sure I was okay later in the day(now that's what policing should be all about).

I made it to my lunch stop and as soon as I pulled over at the truck stop I started to get really cold.The wind was just tearing at my sweat soaked clothes and I made a bee-line for the shelter of the cafe area to the side of the building.After stripping off two layers of clothing and draping everything over my bike in the sun to dry I went in and got myself some real food for an early lunch.I then sat myself down against a low brick wall out of the wind but in the sun so i could warm up and dry off.The chicken burger,curry pie and half liter of chocolate milk seemed like a good idea at the time but soon after continuing my ride after an hours rest my stomache started protesting about having to deal with digesting all that food while I was pushing hard into the wind.I lasted about 5k before having to pull over and lie dow until some of my lunch was properly digested.After a nice little nap on the side of the road I was off again thinking that I would be able to get to within 60k of Hay that evening but the wind and my legs had other ideas.I pushed hard into the wind for another 20k when suddenly all the trees vanished and there was nothing but a whole lot of nothing surrounding me.I had hit the Hay Plain.I had been warned about the plains on either side of Hay and one guy even told me that the winds here could be worse than those on the Nullabor Plain.I didn't believe him until that moment when what I though was already a strong wind turned ferocious and pretty much stopped me in my tracks.It just so happened that as I rounded the curve in the road that is the start of the Hay Plain I came across a large silver building that looked like a barn.There was a four-way intersection and what looked like a church way off in the distance.I had found the dead town of Dunbar,78k out of Hay.I rolled off the road and decided to hide behind the big barn for a while and summon the coage to fight the wind for another hour or so.That plan was immediately thrown out when I found that the barn was in fact the restored Dunbar Town Hall and it was open.

I slid back the latch and opened the large double dorrs to find a big old hall with an elevated stage at the far end and another long room to the left.The place was dirty,dusty,full of cobwebs but most importantly it was warm!That was enough for me,I was going to camp inside for the night.The thought of a night out of the wind and cold and secure to boot was just too much to pass up so I just rolled my whole rig inside and set up camp right there on the floor of thr main room.My first night out of the wind in five days,awesome!!!I took my small tarp and laid it out on the floor on top of which I set up my tent.No need for a fly or the other tarp for protection tonight and best of all no chance of being rained on.After putting the water on to boil I stripped of and hung all my clothes out to dry and did a little investigating.I had seen how much of a footprint I was leaving in the dusty floor and so I checked out the rest of the building to see if there was any sign of recent life and there was none.No human footprints and at all but better yet no animal tracks meaning there was little chance I would have any visitors that evening,human or otherwise.I had only ridden 95k that day but I didn't care I was a happy boy and once the coffee was hot I got dressed and went for a stroll around the "town".

That walk took all of about ten minutes as all ther was too look at was the building I had claimed for the night and the ruins of the old Dunbar pub.The church in the distance was too far away for me to walk to but it was nice to be walking around in the middle of nowhere wondering what life must have been like back in the day when this place meant something to the small population who used to call it home.According to the tourist signs outside the hall they still have a traditional Christmas gathering there for people in the district each year. I wonder where the hell they woud all come from? The rest of the evening was spent taking some pictures and watching the sun set through the dirty windows of the hall while listening to the wind howl through the various cracks in the doors and walls of the building.I hoped that the place wasn't haunted I mean, I really had been wishing for some company over the previous few days,not that kind of company though.

BACK IN THE GROOVE,SORT OF.

The next morning I was up before sunrise to check on the weather and it was still windy,still really cold but at least the damn rain had gone away.I figured that I'd go back to sleep for a hour or so and let my stuff dry out a bit in the win.At 6:30am I took down my tarp and let the wind blow through my tent to dry up the moisture inside the tent created by my breath during the night.While that was going on I brewed coffee and prepared to head out into the raging tailwind that had turned in my favour.

At about 7:30am I was on the road and heading toward Cowra riding through more rolling hills that seemed to me to be tilting slightly ever downward.I wasn't quite sure what was going on as there seemed to be lots of uphills to be conquered but each downhill just got longer and steeper until I found myself coasting for long sections at a time.Before too long I saw,stretched out in front of me a green valley whch I hoped was a sign that I had finally reached the end of the constant hills I had fought for the previous couple of days.It wasn't long after I reached the bottom of a very long descent that I started to see the teltale signs that I was close to town.The good old roadside advertising bilboards.One of then told me that Maccas wasn't far away and as was just about moring coffee time I was dead keen to get there. Twenty minutes later I rolled straight through the center of Cowra and over the bridge on the other side of town to the large carpark under the big yellow M.

As I was taking my helmet off a group of people were leaving Maccas and they came over to look at my bike.They turned out to be avid cycle tourists who rode most of the big organised charity tours around Australia.They were really interested in my trip and my gear so I chatted with them for a little while before heading inside for a coffee and a sit down.It was nice to meet some people who were genuinely interested in my trip and knew what it was all about to be out on the road for days.The weather had made me more that a little sad and downhearted about what was doing and they had cheered me up a bit. I stayed in Cowra for about an hour before mounting the bike for the afternoon session.The morning ride had seen me cover 58k and as the next town of Grenfell was another 50k away I figured that I'd ride until just before town and chalk up an even 100k for the day.

The road flattened out for most of the afternoon with one small range to ride over but the change of wind direction made sure I wasn't going to have an easy time of it.About two and a half hours later my legs were fried and after logging exactly 100k I pulled off to the side of the road and found a really nice place to camp on a grassy patch by a farmers fenceline about 200meters from the highway.I set up my tent and while the water was heating over the stove I got stuck into my dry-land swim training as well as some resistance training with my swim bands.They work pretty well and are definately better than nothing.We will see in December I guess. Just before sunset the rain came again and I was foced indoors for another cold damp night.I will say that I had yet to get wet from the rain itself inside my tent but the humidity was a pain in the ass and the cold was really statring to piss me off.Still I quite liked the time I spent each night in my sleeping bag.I'm pretty lazy really and sleeping is something I love to do.

The next morning was cold as usual and I was starting to think that sping was never going to arrive this year.I got my shit together and was on the road pretty quickly which is something quite unusual for me.I didn't take long to ride into Grenfell and as I rode in I saw a huge billborad that told me this was the birthplace of one of Australias legendary poets,Henry Lawson.I hadn't known that and it was pretty cool to be riding through this historic little town.I stopped at a gas staion to fill up my water bottles and have my usual breakfast which consists of a mixture of rolled oats,weetbix,mixed nuts,dried fruit,Nestle choc powder and brewers sugar(maltodextrin and dextrose) with a drizzle of honey over the top.

After a short look around town I headed out on the highway again toward the next major town of West Wyalong.The ride that day was pretty easy and I had covered 57k by 10 am along the boring flat isolated highway.It was at that point when I started to see the effect that the prolonged drought has had on Australias farming towns.I rode into the the tiny town of Caragabal to find pretty much every store in the place empty and boarded up.I think that the only places open were the store,the pub and the police station.It was very sad to see but a sight I would soon get used to.I sat and had some lunch and a coffee hiding out of the cold wind in a shelter at the edge of the local playground.There was a local couple playing with their kids there when I arrived but it didn't take long for them to pack up and leave once their son became interested in my bike.I was really beginning to get sick of being the guy that everyone seems to worry about.I mean really, does everyone have to be suspicious of me just because I'm on the road by myself?Fuck me,what has happened to the world?

Another 30k or so riding along a featureless highway I hit the T-junction of the Mid-Western Higway (which I was on) and the Newell Highway which came in frm Forbes in the north.I turned sout-west and dead straight into the same wind that had been at my left shoulder all morning.God almighty what a pain in the ass to suddenly go from getting the job done to struggling to turn over evry pedal stroke.I stared at my speedo and was flat out determined to hit 100k that day.It was still pretty early and I knew I was approaching West Wyalong and so when I hit the 100k mark I immediately started looking for a campsite.Luckily for me there was a state forest lining on side of the highway and at 102k I found a dirt road which I followed into the wood to a really great camping area in a think stand of pine trees.It was perfect,out of the wind and in the sun where I could actually get warm.Woo hoo!

After hanging pretty much everthing I had in the trees to dry I went for an hour long run in the forest trails followed by my swim band session in the sun.It was great to be warm again and hanging in this beautiful forest but still I felt that something was missing.I guess the isolation was starting to get to me here on the road after spending the two weeks in the company of my parents.It had been good to be able to have conversations with my dad and hang out with him and his pub mates at the "local" on Friday nights.I guess I just missed having friends around and was hoping that the trade off for all this isolation would be increased interest in Athletes in Kind and from the Nth American triathlon community in my ride.I was beginning to think that I would set a deadline for commitment to crossing the Nullabor Plain.If there was no more interest by Mildura another 600k away then I would reconsider the rest of my trip.I didn't want this trip to turn out to be a chore.I wanted to achieve something positive for Athletes in Kind and if I failed to attract interest this year like I had done in the last two attempts then I would bail.The ride across Australia is just a vehicle to attract interest to my fundraising,I really didn't want to spend my "holiday" alone and in the middle of nowhere.Most of my life is spent alone, then again what the hell else is there to do?If nothing else I'll get fit as a fiddle.

WE BEGIN AGAIN

After the very relaxing two week rest at my parents house it was time for me to hit the road again.I had put the next leg of my ride on hold for a few extra days due some some seriously bad weather in the mountains but it was time to move on before I lost interest completely.The fact that the very morning I packed my bike up I somehow did myself some sort of lower back injury by bending and twisting the wrong way while attending to my bike.There was a really sharp pain in my sacrum and it extended down the back of both legs.I could not really straighten myself and when I went to sit it hurt like hell.There was no way that I was going to delay again.The bike was packed,I was dressed and that was that. I said my goodbyes to my parents and rolled out of the driveway and rode up the hill toward the Western Highway where I turned west for the first time on my trip.

One would think that as I was pretty much at the top of the Blue Mountains when I started that days ride that it would be a pretty easy ride across and over the top before making the descent down to Lithgow some 40 kilometers away.How wrong was I?The road heading west from Katoomba rolls constantly,following the contours of the spectacular mountain ridges that make up the this part of The Great Dividing Range.It was a tough start and the traffic did nothing to help though the great road conditions did ease my pain a little.The fact that I had done almost no riding at all over the last ten days of my stay was the one thing that hit me the most.I felt like I had lost so much of my fitness but I knew that in a few days the old legs would soon feel stronger again and all would be good.Strangely,the back pain I had felt that morning eased as soon as I hopped on my bike and it wasn't too long before I was back into riding mode and enjoying the passing scenery.

Not long after passing through Mt Victoria I found mysel at the top a huge descent.It was one of those scary steep and long downhills that truly worry me when I have a full load on the bike and a trailer draging along behind.There was not much in the way of a shoulder and I hoped the trucks behind me would be symathetic to the fact that I had no option but to take up the whole left lane as I rode the bakes down the dangerous,three kilometer descent.Once at the bottom I regrouped and began what would be a twenty kilometer rollercoaster ride through some of the hilliest terrain faced so far on my long trip.My poor legs hurt and I was definately happy to roll into the car park of the Lithgow MacDonalds after 40k for a morning coffee break out of the cold wind.

My morning coffee lasted about an hour before I filled my water bottles and continued west toward Bathurst.I had figured that todays ride would end just short of Bathurst which was about 100k from Katoomba an I always like to finish my rides about an hour or so from the next town so I know that if I use all my water overnight then a fresh supply will be just a short ride away the next day.Unfortunately for me the weather and the hills conspired against me and only ten kilometers out of Lithgow my legs really started to feel it.I struggled on through the seemingly endless rolling hills for another couple of hours gaining little headway beofre finally calling it a day at the 72k mark when my lack of enthusiasm, combined with a presentable camping area,coaxed me off the road for the day.I set up camp in the scrub beside a disused side-road and within an hour was,believe it or not,actually pulling on my running shoes to begin the long run training build up for Ironman West Oz which was just two months away.I went for an easy fifteen minute warm up run before completing eight,one minute hills repeats and 30 minutes of run drills which left my legs throbbing and my belly growling.It was time to eat and then prepare for the first night on the road to Ironman.

The next morning I woke up to a very painfull lower back.Just sitting up hurt so much that I could not put any weight at all on my tailbone.I had to roll over onto my belly and then do a push up to get into a crawling postion before backing slowly out of the tent and slowly standing up.What the hell had I done to myself?I went for a little walk to warm up and then slowy set about packing all my gear before gingerly hopping back on the bike and coasting down the hill near the top of which I had camped.The first uphill wasn't much fun but before too long any lingering pain had gone and about 5k later I had finally crested the Great Divide(according to a sign on the side of the road) and began the 20k descent into the frigid town of Bathurst.I passed the famous Mt Panorama race circuit and was thankful to be in town this week and not the next when the highways would be full with every petrol headed motor enthusiast in Australia making the annual pilgrimage to the famous Bathurst 1000 motor race.

As I rolled into town the grey clouds rolled in and a light mist began to fall.Thankfully I spied a pair of golden arches not too far away and was soon in the Bathurst MacDonalds warming up over a large Mac Cafe latte and chowing down on a couple of muffins.I had tucked myself into a corner where I could keep an eye on my bike but my little hideaway didn't stop the countless odd stares that I was recieving from those who walked by.The joint was jammed with people and I really felt out of place in a town that is far more welcoming of people driving hotted up cars than those riding bicycles.The kids,as usual,were very into my bike and a couple of them came over and asked me all about my trip and my gear.Until their parents told them to get away from me that is.Strange,single men in MacDonalds are not the sort of people most parents want their kids chatting to.Sad but true.

Once the clouds started to clear about two hours later I pulled on all my warm clothes again and headed off,out of Bathurst and on toward Cowra about 110k away.I knew I wouldn't make it that day but I fugured if all went well then I'd be riding through Cowra at around late lunchtime the next day.If the hills out of Bathurst were any indication then that was truly a pipe dream as I was to find nothing but more long rolling hills stretching as far as the eye could see.The hell of it was,I had now found myself riding into a strengthening headwind which made the ups hell and the downs heaven.The end of my day was heralded by the sounds of thunder in the distance and as I struggled mightily up the hardest hill of the day I could feel a few raindrops cooling my face in the increasing wind.I crested yet another hill to see lighting flashing in the distance and knew my day was nearly done.Another light show had me duck into a now unused part of the old highway and rushing to erect my tent and throw my tarp overtop in preparation for the oncoming storm.Once all the hatches had been battened down,so to speak,there was nothing left to do but duck inside and wait it out.With only 60k in the bank for the day I was pretty dissappointed but hoped that I'd be able to ride to the town of Blayney a mere 12k away before nightfall.I didn't fancy spending to much time roadside if there were severe thunderstorms about.About fifteen minutes after steeling into my tent the storm hit and stayed for a couple of hours with the rain pounding pouw on my tarp and the wind howling in the trees above.By the time it had eased it was around 4pm and there was no point moving that day.I fired up my stove,cooked some food and prepare my tent for the night.

The next eighteen hours or so were spent either asleep in my tent while the rain poured down or ducking outside during lulls in the storm to check to see if it was all over.All through the night the storms came and went and I was really preparing myself for a whole day stuck in the same spot but at around 11am the skies cleared a little and I decided to pack up and make a move.It took me about an hour to pack everything and get going again and once everthing was ready I made the quick dash into the town of Blayney about a 12k windblasted ride from my camp.I stopped briefly to fill all my water bottles and then was out on the highway again trying to get as close to Cowra as possible.About 10k out of town as I was climbing a little hill when I noticed a rattling sound coming from my rear wheel.I looked down and saw that the spoke protector(designed to stop my chain from shifting into my spokes)was loose and I though I'd better find somehwere to pull off the road and fix it.Halfway down the next hill I saw a sign signalling a rest area ahead and I pulled in to find that it was also a viewpoint for the local windfarm.I could clearly see about a dozen huge wind turbines slowly rotating on the nearby hillside.Behind the giant fans I could see the darkening sky which told me that the bad weather was not over quite yet.I had only ridden 22k that day and was already making a mad dash to set up a shelter for the next round of storms.Bugger it!!!

For another 10 hours or so I was trapped inside my tent as a fresh round of storms battered the rest area.Thankfully I had found a spot hidden by some think low shrubs and about eight feet below the crest fo the hill which meant that most of the wind just blew straight over me.The tent would be out of the wind and secure,I would just have to hope that it would continue to hold out the rain.Thnkfully it did keep me dry and even more thankfully the tarp managed to retain a lot of heat as the temperature dropped into the low single digits for the night.Inside my tent it was seven degrees celcius and it was a couple of degrees colder outside,geanerally a miserable night to be camping but I was warm,dry and well fed.This was not the nice start to the second leg of my trip that I had hoped for.I guess it couldn't get too much worse though and tried to stay positive as I went to sleep that night cozily warm in my sleeping bag.Hopefully the next day would bring better weather,better luck and a few more miles under my wheels.

PHASE ONE ENDS.

I woke up super early the next morning full of excitment that this would be my last day on the road before I have a ten day break at my parents place.It was breakfast in the dark and coffee at sunrise before I packed up and pulled my rig out of the rest area and joined the morning traffic which was already filling the highway south to the state capital.The increasing traffic made me glad that I had decided to stop this section of the ride at Gosford as my stress levels were rising in direct proportion to the huge amount of vehicles that joined the highway inland from Newcastle.One plus was that increasing stream of cars created quite the tailwind which helped my cause greatly,crossing over the off ramps to stay on the highway though was a excercise in terror.It wasn't quite as bad as riding into Buenos Aires which I'd done in 2006 but it wasn't much fun just the same.
The rest of the ride that morning wasn't much to write home about apart from an increase in the severity of the rolling hills which I know continue all the way to Sydney.I didn't mind hitting a few longish climbs that day and the fact that I'd covered 85 kilometers by the time I stopped for lunch showed that I was having a great day out on the road.It must have looked pretty strange to all the motorists on their commute to Sydney to see me sitting on the side of the highway eating cold beans straght out of the can and brewing coffee in the relative shelter of a roadside pullout.These pullouts did give me a chance to get out of the way of the traffic the whole way down the coast but even though the road surface in New South Wales was a huge improvement the strong stench of trucker urine had not change at all since I crossed the border a couple of weeks earlier.I swear that the smll of urine,heated by the hot Aussie sun,will unfortunately be one of the things I will remember most about this trip.That and the huge amount of garbage littered around overflowing trash bins were not things I wanted to feature prominently in my memories but that is just the way it is and that is sad.
It was still early afternoon when I saw my exit to the seaside town of Gosford at the town of Ourimbah and began the 15k trip down to sea-level and the Gosford train station.The last time I was in this town it was to pick up a pair of wheels which I had made for my second Ironman distance triathlon in 1992.A lot of water had passed under the old bridge since then and ever so slowly I was feeling the old enthusiasm for all things athletic returning.First though,I had a date with a couple of trains and thankfully the good folks at the Gosford train station didn't freak out when they saw me push my rig into the station.I always worry about how I'll be recieved when I fly,bus or train with my bike and usually the treatment from people in western cultures is the worst.Second and third world countries are used to people travelling with everything they own and are happy to just throw everything on top of a truck or cram stuff inside a train.Thankfully I had again picked a Sunday to roll into the big city and the train was pretty much empty all the way into Sydney a short 70-odd kilometers away.I was concerned about the second trip which would see me train it from Central Station is downtown Sydney to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains 110k to the west.I need not have been worried as I was the first guy on the train and found one of the only bike specific spots provided.I hung my bike on the designated hook and jammed my trailer into the corner of the compartment opposite my bike.Too easy.
One strange thing about that day was the culture shock of arriving back in "civilizaton".Some of the looks that people were giving me as I walked through Central Station and while I was sitting in the train were too funny.Clearly the good folk of the big city were not used to seeing reaaly sweaty,dirty,feral looking cyclists dragging all their worldly possesions around the country.People made no secret of avoiding me but I'm sure I smelt as bad as I looked so I can't say I blamed them.It gave me the luxury of having lots of room to spread out in the train which was a bonus.As usual it was the kids who were the exception,they were all interested in my bike and I even had acouple of young dudes come up and ask me about my gear and my ride(much to the disgust of their mothers).
Once I the train arrived into the popular mountain own of Katoomba it was a short 4k ride to my parents house in nearby Leura where the first thing on the list of must do's(after saying a big hello to my folks)was to jump into a hot shower and once clean open the parcel full of nice new,clean clothes that I had shipped down from Cairns a couple of months earlier.Man I never thought clean clothes could feel so good.I parked my bike in the garage and vowed not to touch it again for at least a week.It was time to get my head out of travel mode and switch to the role of the dutifull son as I was told there was a long list of chores for me to do around the house that my ageing parents just could not manage.No complaints here though for three meals a day and a warm bed each night I'll do just about anything.
The next few day were all about spending lots of time hanging out with my parents and celebrating my 46th birthday before knucking down to a list of gardening and household chores that would keep me busy in between the hours spent on the couch ploughing through my mothers huge collection of movies and various televisions series on tape and dvd.It was great to be able to just switch off for a while but before too long I did have to turn to the bike and my equipment and do some repairs.I scouted out a local bike store and ordered a new skewer and put my bike through a bit of a service.The bike had held up amazingly well but then again I'd only ridden just over 2,500k which is what I would have done during a normal Ironman training period so it's not like it's been overused.A long tear and a broken zipper inside my sleeping bag needed mending as did a couple of tears on one tarp and a rusty vipper on my tent needed attention as well.
One week turned to ten days and a seriously cold weather front which brought gale-force,gusty winds turned those ten days to two weeks before I finally made the decision to head off on the second leg of my journey.I had spent a couple of days staring at the map of Australia and plotting a couple of different scenarios.I could ride my way south to the coast of Victoria on Australia's southern coast which would allow me to check out the beautiful Victorian countryside and Great Ocean Road before heading along the South Australian coast to Adelaide or I could just head straight west through the New South Wales inland and on to the town of Port Augusta north of Adelaide before bracing myself for the ride across the barren Nullabor Plain.The first route allowed me the scenic tour but would require at least an extra week of riding and limit the amount of time I could dedicate to run and swim training.The northern route would take about 600k off the distance and give me the time I need to get myself run fit and swim fit for Ironman Western Australia in December.As I was still hurting mentally from the serious let-down of not finishing both events I entered last year I decided that I needed to get my priorities straight and make sure I was in the best shape possible to put on a decent show in the Ironman.
I also was given a little motivational boost by a couple of people who contacted me and told me that even though it was obvious I was a little down about the percieved lack of interest in my trip there were in fact quite a few people who were following along, quietly enjoying my blog.It was a great help to me as I had pretty much decided to bail on continuing the blog after raising less than $300 for Athletes in Kind over a period of two months.I really didn't know what to do about that and my confidence plumetted even more a I watched the popularity of some other Ultra-athletes on Facebook go through the roof.I guess I just don't have the "rock star" persona that is required these days and past achievements mean little if you don't look the part.I was reminded of something a friend of mine in Penticton said to me after I didn't finish Ultraman Canada last year.After wondering out loud about why I'd not recieved any of the promised support for my fundraising efforts from various people who had followed my trip around eastern Canada.He told me that perhaps it was the fact that I hadn't performed at all well during the two events that summer which may be the reason.That kind of pissed me off as I didn't realise that I needed to win stuff to have my fundraising validated.I was too busy fighting my own battle with depression which made getting out of bed every day hard enough let alone finding the motivation to train like a pro.
With that in mind and after adopting the "if you can't beat them join them"mentality I decided to ride the shorter northern route and dedicate the next nine weeks of my ride to actual Ironman training and in doing so,giving myself the best chance of performing well in my age-group in Ironman West Oz and then continue on to Indonesia for my ride through to Ironman Malaysia.Hopefully some of the hundreds of people who have read about my trip on Slowtwitch.com and Facebook will start to get involved and donate some money to Athletes in Kind and perhaps I may even generate some sponsorship to allow me to continue on to Canada and the U.S for the 2010 triathlon season.If not,well I guess it will be time to move on and find something else constructive to do and continue to find reasons to keep myself above ground.
As a thank you to those few who have contacted me to let me know that they are following my trip I will continue with the blog until December and give a more detailed account of not only my ride but the Ironman specific training I will be doing along the way.I will also add personal video diaries documenting the rest of my Oz trip,similar to the ones I added to my Canada trip last year.Be patient though,I will be isolated for the best part of the next three weeks and will post updates as often as I can.Until then you can check out my other two blogs which cover my Sth American and Eastern Canadian trips which I did in 2006 and 2008.The links are on the left of the page.
Bye for now and see you all in 1000 miles or so.

MORE RAMBLINGS

After deciding to splurge a bit and check into a nearby motel I showered,changed and went for a little wander around the small street that serves as the center of downtown Forster.Nothing much had changed at all during the ten years I had been away and the charm of the small seaside town was intact.Another thing that had not changed was the beautiful scenery surrounding the lakes and beaches next to which the town is built.I had myself a quick walk up to the viewpoint atop Flagstaff Hill and as the sunset over the lakes behind me,watched the surf roll in on Forsters Main Beach.The increasingly chilly air drove me indoors though and after picking up a sandwich at Subway I headed back to the warmth of my motel room.
I will admit I was feeling pretty despondant that night after seeing the old hostel in such a bad state and my mood wasn't helped by the fact that it looked like the effort required to keep my blog going was pretty much in vain as interest in my ride seemed limited.My confidence had been bouyed a few days earlier when I'd found out that some donations had come in for my "Athletes in Kind" cause,courtesy of some of my Ultra-runner/triathlon friends but I'm guessing a lot of that came from feeling sorry for me after I'd dropped so many hints about my disappointment on Facebook.That night ,however,I recieved a really nice email that certainly perked me up.
The mother of Pete Southern,the young motorcyclist whom I told you all about had emailed me and thanked me for taking an interest in his ride.Apparently Pete's uncle Peter had died suddenly from an agressive cancer and the anniversary of his death was fast approaching.My blog had helped Pete's mum Lynn deal with the pain of rembering his loss by reminding her of how much her son reminded her of her brother.It was her brother who introduced young Pete to motorbikes and instilled a grand sense of adventure in his young nephew.He was in many ways keeping his uncles spirit alive and I had,by my own trip,had given Pete the moral support that he needed to make him realise that he was capable of more.A grand trip of his own was in the making.I was very happy to know that I was able to be a positive influence on a young guy like Pete and even more so to think that in some way I was able to turn the pain of the anniversary of a loved ones death into a celebration of a spirit that lives on in a new generation.


I spent most of the next day just wandering around the headlands and beaches of Forster quietly enjoying the views and remembering happy times from the past.I just loved that lazy day and it made me realise just how much I was looking forward to finishing the first leg of my trip and spending time off the road at my parents place in the Blue Mountains.I also began to wonder if my trip was worth it,I mean it was great to see the country and all that and I was really starting to feel the old fitness returning but really what was the point.Maybe I was just tired,I don't know,but I started to think that maybe I should just give up the blog and the attempts at fundraising as both were beginning to seem a huge waste of time.Hardly anyone seemed interested in my writings and even fewer had made a donation to Athletes in Kind even though I'd advertised it to hundreds of people on Facebook and the hugely popular triathlon forum Slowtwitch.I have been saying for a few years now that I don't think most people take me very seriously at much of what I do and my inability to attract donations and sponsors for what I believe to be an amazing journey aimed at raising money for a really worthy cause seemed to confirm that theory.I went to sleep thinking that once I get to Sydney I would re-evaluate my trip and decide if it was worth the huge effort for such little interest or stay with the belief that out there somewhere was someone who may find inspiration or motivation in my little adventure.
I did spend a lot of the second evening in Forster reading up on some of the bike trips that I'd seem through a link on my Facbook page.One guy in particular, Peter Gostelgow, was in the first few weeks of his London to Cape Town trip which I though was madness.He had already ridden 50,000k in a previous trip from Japan to London and is quite famous in the long distance cycling world.His exploits renewed my enthusiasm and I started to think about how I should think more about enjoying the world around me on my ride and less about trying to fit my schedule around others.I may even leave the old laptop behind at my parents place and just vanish into the countryside documenting my trip the old fashioned way,with pen and paper.

The next day I saddled up and rode back out the way I came,north toward the highway.There is a southern route which is actually part of the old Ironman course but that road is famous for it's potholes and lack of room for cyclists.I didn't fancy struggling on that road for 60k to Bulahdelah so I opted to backtrack for 25k to the highway near Nabiac in order to make the best of the awesome highway surface.Thankfully this was one plan that paid off and before long I was rolling happily toward Newcastle some 150k to the south.I hadn't decided when I would pull off the highway and hop on a train for the trip through the big city but the increasing traffic certainly gave me an indication that a train trip wasn't too far off.

That days ride was pretty uneventful but most certainly enjoyable as the wind blew me southward under a bright blue sky through Bulahdelah and past the Hawkes Nest turn-off.I was making pretty good time with 100k in the bank by 1pm and figured that there wasn't much point in trying to push for Newcastle that day so I stopped for a late lunch break at a rest area just south of the turn-off.It was during that lunch break that I noticed that a couple of things didn't seem right.The first problem was that my front pannier rack was loose had started pointing to the right.That didn't take log to fix as it had just lost a bolt connecting it to the front fork and I relaced it with a spare bolt that I had for my cleats.The other problem was a lot worse.I noticed that my rear wheel wasn't tracking straight and had a obvious wobble about it which had me worried no end.I'd had trouble with my trailer hitch during previous bike tours and was hoping that history wasn't repeating itself here.I unhitched the trailer and took off my wheel to find that I had broken the axle that I found bent a couple of days earlier.Bugger!I did have a spare one that was the stock alxe from Scott but the trailer required an extra long axle and the standard Scott axle was just a few millimeters too short.The end cap would not catch and was pretty much useless.I put the old broken axle back in and started to limp down the highway hoping that I would not do too much damage to my wheel.

After a usless trip into the little fishing village of Karuah to find a bike store or workshop of any kind I hit the highway again and crawled into a big rest area where I found a nice hidden spot to camp for the night.I'd done 138k for the day and was happy about that effort but the pressing problem of my broken axle had me too worried to feel statisfied with the day.One good thing though was hat this particular rest area was one of the few with power and after setting up camp I took all my cooking stuff over to the tables under the rest area shelter and cooked dinner while my laptop fired up and connected me with the world again.It was after I had eaten dinner and was finishing another time-wasting session on Slowtwitch and Facebook that a car rolled into the rest area and parked close by.The driver of the car made a short pitstop in the toilet before coming over to find out what the guy with no visible means of transport was doing out there in the middle of nowhere tapping away on a laptop.I pointed toward where my camp was and told him my tale of woe.He asked to see the bike and wanted to check out the spare axle as he had a toolbox full of stuff that he thought for sure would get me out of my jam.I wheeled the bike over and showed him my spare axel which he took over to his car.He dug around in his toolbox for a couple of minutes and came back with the axel in hand and a smile on his face.He had found a nut that fitted and asked me to see if it would work.I pushed the axel through the hub and very gingerly started to thread the nut onto it and after a little coaxing,it took hold.The nut was a thin flat one as opposed to the thick recessed one that came standard on my skewer and that allowed just enough purchase for it to take hold.I was very happy and after a thank you coffee for Ian, my roadside angel,I went to bed happy that I'd be able to get back on the road the next day and finish the first leg of my trip.The next night I would be at my parents place and with a new final destination of Gosford only 100 or so kilometers away I closed my eyes a very happy boy.

SHIT-HOLES AND IRONMAN TOWNS

I took off early the next morning and rode down the coast road to the small town of Sawtell before turning west and rejoining the Pacific Highway.The plan was try and ride the 260k to the old Ironman town of Forster in two days and the weather forecast seemed favourable.I was really enjoying the riding this day and even though my legs did hurt for the first hour or so I was happy that I was able to cruise down the coast pretty quickly.I managed a rest stop on the banks of the Nambucca River and took my time brewing coffee and making myself a late breakfast.It was such a nice day and I didn't want to think about pushing too much just for the sake of gaining ground so,in the bright sunshine, I lay on it instead.After my little rest a following wind and sunny skies made my mood lift considerably and for the first time I started realising that the first leg of my epic ride was in it's last week.There was still some work to do though and after passing more famous holiday towns I approached the town of Kempsey.

Kempsey is one of those places that you don't really hear much about.Everyone who drives the highway has to pass through it but you never hear anything about it,now I know why.There have been two towns that gave me a bad feeling just riding through with Gympie being the first.Kempsey was most definately the second.Like Gympie the roads through the town are narrow,hilly and in poor condition.They both share the same meathead mentality in that they are a couple of the few places where I was abused openly by the local thugs as they sped by in their muscle cars.I really had a bad feeling and when I pulled into the rest area at the southern end of town all I wanted to do was fill up my waterbottles and get out.The rest area toilets even had a sign warning tourists not to linger nearby as it was high crime area.Just lovely.I'm sure that there are very nice people living there and they love it for what it is but for me the place has shit-hole written all over it.I won't be putting Kempsey on my list of tourist destinations anytime soon.

I had covered about 117k as I left Kempsey and it wasn't long before I spied a sign for a rest area just 13k down the road.That would be me for the night if there was a decent place to camp and half an hour later I rolled into a really nice rest stop which just happened to have a lot of scrubland nearby which would provide shelter and keep me hidden from both the highway and any vehicles parked nearby.It was a nice camp and after convincing a few very large red ants that they were not welcome I had myself some dinner and watched a great day end with a beautiful sunset.
The 5am alarm had me emerging from my tent into a frigid morning and I had to drag out the balaclava and two sweaters as the morning air shot straight through my bike clothes.I wanted to get up early as I would be on the road as soon as light permitted and I was all set to do just that as I had finally got my stuff packed and breakfast eaten by 6am.I wheeled my bike into the rest area and made some final checks only to find that my rear tyre had a slow leak.God damn it all to hell!!!!!!There went my early start.

I took the wheel off and changed my tyre and while I was putting my wheel back on I noticed that it wasn't spinning very well and removed the axle to find that it was bent.I'd bent an axle or two in my time but they were always while my bike was attached to my trainer,never on the road.I figured it wasn't such a big deal but I wondered just how long it would last with my trailer putting all kinds of extra stress on it.I put the wheel back on and was off down the highway toward Port MacQuarie and ultimately Forster.

It was a pretty easy days ride and I made great time which meant,barring any catastrophe,I would be in Forster mid afternoon.With that in mind I took my time for the afternoon and instead of pulling into a gas station for coffee and a rest(a bad habit that I was trying to break)I found myself a nice spot off the highway to hang out for an hour or so.It is funny,as much as there are times when I suffer mightily,I am really loving being out there in the middle of nowhere just enjoying the sights and sounds of the countryside.Just find me a little patch of dirt and light up my stove for coffee and I'm happy as hell.I guess I really have cast off the social condition that in order to be happy we must accumulate all of the best gear which is designed to make our lives easier.I'm thinking that all too often, peoples lives are becoming stale by having everything there at your fingerstips.Even the van-dwellers have moved in that direction and are now "roughing it" round Australia with their microwaves,hot showers and flatscreen televisions.I don't get it but then again most people don't "get" me.

I had skipped past the Ironman Australia town of Port MacQuarie and thought for one second of riding in and checking it out but my stubborn loyalty to Forster -Tuncurry made me continue on down the highway toward the town where I had spend five great Ironman races during the '90s.Knowing that I would be in the original Ironman town that day was one of the things that plastered a smile on my face for the whole day.As I rode past the town of Taree about 30k out of Forster I could barely contain myself.The road signs were also telling me that Sydney was just a couple of days ride away as well and I started to think about the long break I would have once I reached Australias biggest city.First though, I had to negotiate the Lakes Way which is the only access to the beautiful little seaside town of Forster.It was also the worst road that I had ridden since entering New South Wales.That was to be expected as Ironman Australia was famous for having the worst road surface of all the Ironmans around world.We all complained every year but really that was part of it''s unique charm and as I road the 22k into Forster the roads were just as "charming" as I remembered.
As soon as I rolled through Tuncurry and over the bridge into Forster I felt at home.As I mentioned I had spent five Ironman weeks here but in fact there was more to the story than that.Over those five years I had spent a few months living in the only backpackers hostel in town.It was a really cute little hostel only a block and a half away from the Ironman finish line at Forster Main Beach and was in many ways a home away from home for a small group of we Ironmen who made the pilgimage to Ironman every year from all over the planet.The hostels owners,a lovely Scottish couple,Gordon and Grace made the hostel our place for the duration and for a two of those years I stayed for a couple of months before the race and lived rent free(in excange for and hours worth of work per day)while I trained full time during the day and laughed full time with my friends all night.Those friends are the true kind of friends who,no matter how long we are apart,immediately become best friends again once we get back together in the same room.I can quite honestly say that the last summer I spent there during the lead up to Ironman 1999 was the last time I was truly and completely happy.That is a sad reality for me and one that made my arrival the old Dolphin Lodge a hard pill to swallow.
I rode down Head St from the bridge not knowing what I would find and as I rolled up the sidewalk outside Dolphin Lodge my heart broke.The hostel had closed down and was up for sale.I would have felt better if the place was still open as an hostel but this place was obviously completely closed and actually looked abandoned.I rode around the to the back entrance and found the courtyard full of junk and the building in disrepair with the only trace of life being some clothes hanging on the line and a collection of dirty shoes lines up outside one of the rooms.It was pretty clear to me that the only resident was some sort of caretaker and that the ageing Gordon and Grace could no longer put the effort in running the hostel.My god how sad!!I walked around for a few minutes and though of trying to tke some pics but then though that anyone who had so many wonderful memories of those days gone by would not want to see the building in it's death.I got back on my bike and went in search of a motel to stay in for a couple of days hoping that the rest of town would restore my now,dampened enthusiasm.

DOWN TO COFFS

I sucked it up and rode on south toward Grafton where I had planned my first break of the day.The roads had improved a lot and there were no real hills to speak of so it wasn't too long before I covered the 35ish kilometers and rode into the outskirts of Grafton and straight up to the huge MacDonalds which shared a carpark with the local information center on the highway.I parked my rig and climbed the stairs up to the restaurant where I ordered some breakfast and dealt with the disgusted stares from the other customers.To be fair,I was filthy and even though I was dressed head to toe there was a lot of dirt and dried mud on my shoes,hands and face.I looked a sight and when the Maccas girls asked me if I was dining in of taking out I told her that I really didn't think that they would want me sitting on their chairs.She laughed and agreed.

The morning sun was starting to heat the place up and I made my way over to the stairs of the info center to take full advantage.I sat in the sun and while I ate my breakfast I slowly stripped off my leg warmers,arm warmers,vest,socks and shoes and lay them out in the sun to dry.I'm sure the staff at the info center were not impressed but they never said anything and after getting another coffee from Maccas I hung out for about 45mins before I finally felt human enough to gather up all my gear and head back out onto the highway.

One thing I did not expect was the amount of hills that I was faced with as soon as I rolled out of Grafton.One after another they rolled out before me and as nice as the road surface was I could not help but think that I ws doing an inordinate amount of climbing for a stretch of Australias' coast that was supposed to be flat.The uphills went on for about 2k a piece but the downs did not seem to match but they just kept coming.They sure made for a tough ride but I must have been feeling okay as I was an hour ahead(in milage terms) of where I had been the previous day.I figured that I would be through Coffs Harbour my mid afternoon and hopefully would make that day the longest so far.It would be a struggle though as it was a very humid afternoon and as the day rolled on I got the feeling that there was a storm brewing somewhere in the area and the slow buildup of grey clouds seemed to confirm my worries.I tried to speed on in an effort to get south of the growing weather system but the same strong wind that now was firmly at my back was gathering the louds behind and driving them toward Coffs Harbour fast on my heels.The long downhill that had me flying past the township of Halfway Creek proved that I had indeed been climbing for a couple of hours and it would seem that I had crested a small range and the road had tilted toward the coast and the town of Woolgoolga.

As the early afternoon sun hid behind the increasing grey veil I actually felt very strong and for the second time really believed that my fitness was reaching another plateau.I fairly powered up the short hills which rolled from headland to headland, sheltering each of the beaches north of Coffs Harbour.The last and definately worst of the hills found me standing on the pedals,crawling upward past Coffs famous "Big Banana",which made me realise just how close I was to ticking off another landmark on my southward journey.I also got a taste of what it meant to be closing in on Sydney,traffic!!It was hellish and a total surprise.I struggled down the highway with the local traffic screaming past at a manic pace and as I dodged yet another close call I heard the first crack of thunder booming behind me to the north.Damn!

I pulled into a gas station for a coffee and a rest from the traffic but it soon became obvious that my rest might indeed be a tad longer than anticipated.The humidity was increasing rapidly and the extra effort that I had put in over the two hours leading into Coffs had left me totally soaking wet.I thought of the prospect of a wet night outside trying to sleep in my damp sleeping bag and filthy clothes and I could not face it.I went inside and asked the lady behind the counter if she knew where the Coffs Harbour hostels were.I needed a hot shower and a bed,but really I was just being soft.Then again, who cared? It took me another half hour to make my way down to the beaches and ride a couple of laps of the neighbourhood before I found the Coffs Harbour YHA and finished my 124k day.I walked in as the rain started to fall and checked in for two nights.As I dragged all my stuff upstairs to my room I started to feel very tired and very,very lonely.

Perhaps it was just some decent food and a bottle of cheap wine that I needed as after cleaning myself up and a quick trip to the shopping mall I enjoyed the first home cooked meal I had eaten in weeks.My mood improved dramatically as I set about chatting with some of the other hostellers,my physical state though had gone downhill.My legs hurt,my back hurt but mostly I was just fatigued.It was beyond explanation but there was no doubt that something was not quite right.I hoped that the wine would fix it and like the good boy that I am took all my medicine without complaint.I did have a nice time quizzing the tour leader of of an adventure company that had joined me in the hostel dining room.I found out that the young girl who was driving the 12 adventures tourists around had left a really nice job in Canberra to guide camping trips around Australia.This group were on their first night but soon they would be camping under the stars all over Australia for the next 30 days.In many ways I envied them the company but then I though of the fact that they had no control over their trip and were the slaves to a schedule planned by someone else.I thought about my ride and decied that I would stop worrying about how far I rode each day and how often I posted my blogs.Those few people who have shown an interest would just have to wait for each update and when I reached my parents home in the Blue Mountains I would have to do some serious thinking about how I would ride the second leg of my trip.

After an early night and a great sleep-in I spent most of the next day either,writing in my blog,uploading photos to Facebook or trying to get my camera to work.The first two tasks were accomplised to some degree but my camera would produce nothing but out of focus pictures.It was very frustrating and I hoped that it would soon dry out and the problem would fix itself.I also took the time to wash all of my clothes and dry out my tent,tarps and my panniers,chores which kept me busy and hostel-bound for most of the day.I didn't mind as I was in no mood to be a tourist and ventured only as far as the small shopping mall across the street.I really didn't do Coffs Harbour any justice but for me it was a service stop and nothing more.