Cycling Down Under

I'm lucky enough to be in Australia at the moment (Port Macquarie, home of Ironman Australia), and managed to get a three-day pass from my wife to get out on the bike and into the countryside of New South Wales.

I'd looked into taking my own bike to Australia, but the excess luggage costs were prohibitive, and it worked out cheaper to buy a second-hand bike once I was in Australia. I found a Trek 1.1 with Sora groupset and alu forks (beggars can't be choosers) on Ebay for $AUD350, and I was set.









Port Macquarie is on the Pacific coast, and there is plenty of picturesque riding on the coast road. My first trip out on the bike was a 45 mile round trip taking in the local high ground, North Brother, on a twisting forest road which climbs 480m in 5km. The stunning view from the summit was worth the tough climb, and I didn't miss my triple chainset too much. The 47mph descent through the switchbacks shredded my brake blocks. Time to show my face in Gordon Street Cycles, the incredibly friendly bike shop and cafe in Port Macquarie.

What I really wanted to do was get away from the coastal towns and into the countryside. The problem is, there aren't many roads in rural Australia, so you have to choose carefully. Many are classed as highways, built for huge trucks carrying freight thousands of kilometers from city to city. You can legally ride on them, but they aren't fun.




The Wauchope to Walcha road is a much more pleasant proposition. It climbs 4000ft from the coast up to the "Table Lands", a vast mountainous plateau and part of the Great Dividing Range of mountains. On the day I chose to ride this road, it was wet and cold, and a temperature inversion meant low cloud clung to the lower slopes of the mountains. Once above the clouds the views were temporarily spectacular, before the road wound up into thick rainforest. The climb never got above 10%, but the hours of constant uphill riding made this a challenging but exilharating day. The temperature at 4000ft was down in single figures and I wished I'd packed my fleecy bibtights.







Of course, every big climb has a payoff, and after a night and a day spent on the Table Lands, the ride home meant a day descending the plateau from 4000ft to sea level. I did this via the "Waterfall Way", a spectacular, scenic road popular with tourists, which leads down from Armidale through Dorrigo and Bellingen to Urunga.

I rode 50 miles of the road, but the highlight was the 7 miles or so of steep, twisty descent, in which I lost approximately 3500ft of height. In fact, I'd go as far as to say this was the most fun I've ever had on a bike.

One thing has amazed me about cycling in Australia. Firstly, I met no other cyclists, at all, on the scenic mountain passes. If I lived in northern New South Wales, I'd be out on these mountains every weekend! As I say, there aren't many roads in Australia. If Aussie cyclists aren't out on these roads, then where are they?

My time in Australia is coming to an end, and it's time to put my Aussie Trek back on Ebay. I have to say, I didn't expect much from this cheap and cheerful bike, but it completely surpassed my expectations, This bike took on some of the roughest mountain roads New South Wales has to offer, and it climbed, cruised and descended perfectly for my needs. This has made me think hard about how much hobby cyclists like me actually need to spend on a bike. Perhaps we need to worry less about kit and just get out there and ride.

Dunwich Dynamo 2011

I completed this event last month, but due to me being on the other side of the world, I've only just got around to writing about it.

The Dunwich Dynamo is a 120-mile, overnight ride from a pub in Hackney to the tiny seaside village of Dunwich in Suffolk.

The beauty of the DD is in its simplicity: It's free, there are no marshals, no timing chips, no goodie-bags, no motorcycle outriders, no changing rooms, no showers, no results service. You just turn up at the pub some time on the Saturday evening, then set off when you feel like it. This is how cycling should be.

There were route cards given out at the start, but these aren't much use without a map. Fortunately, I'd packed one. The 1500-or-so riders who'd gathered at the start were a diverse bunch: Hipsters on fixies, Sunday riders in club kit, beardies on tourers (like me!) and girls with baskets on their bikes.

Slowly, over a period of half an hour or so, people started to ride off in groups, and I joined one of them. The few miles out of central London were uneventful: in road cycling, there is definitely safety in numbers, and drivers seemed to show patience and respect towards the mini pelotons heading East.

The last outpost of civilisation was Epping High Street and, with the light fading, we headed on into Epping Forest and the countryside beyond.

There is something beautiful about a line of hundreds of red, blinking LEDs on unlit roads, and something magical about how quiet all those bikes are. To me, this is the whole point of The Dynamo: To experience the darkness, silence and peace of riding at night through countryside.
Contrary to popular stereotypes, rural Essex is extremely beautiful, and we passed through several pretty villages which consisted of a few cottages, a church, a pub and little else.

At roughly half way, there is a food stop at a village hall, staffed by volunteers, at which you can buy bananas, tea, coffee, and hot food. The queue for the hot food was ridiculous, and at the finish I heard many tales of people queuing for an hour to find there was no food left. Me, I just filled up my water bottles, grabbed a quick coffee and went on my way.

Suffolk turned out to be just as picturesque as Essex, and as it grew light my legs were starting to complain, but I knew I'd broken the back of the ride.

Here's the best bit: When I arrived at the finish, at roughly 7am, I discovered the pub was open! I rode onto the stony beach, took a photo then headed inside for a pint of Adnam's and a Full English. Result. It was a slightly overcast morning, but it was dry and not too cold, so I unwrapped my orange survival bag and grabbed a couple of hours' sleep on the beach, along with at least a hundred others.
Now for the worst part of the experience: If you book a coach ticket back, be prepared to wait until the afternoon for your ride back to London. Actually, I was enjoying the sea, the fresh air and the peace so much that I didn't really mind the wait, but even with my post-ride endorphin-rush, I'd rather have gone back sooner.

The coach deposited us not back in Hackney but at Smithfields Market, and the 12 mile ride back to Stanmore (where I'd left my car) was a perfect recovery ride. I was glad, though, to sling my bike in the back of the car and head onto the M1 for the long drive back home to my bed!

My Very Average Cyclist tips for a successful Dunwich Dynamo:

1. Take your own food, so you don't have to rely on the half-way refreshment stop.
2. Take a plastic orange survival bag. They fold up small and are perfect for grabbing a kip on the beach.
3. If you book the coach transport home, be prepared for a long wait on Dunwich Beach.
4. The route is rolling rather than flat. Be prepared for plenty of gentle climbs.
5. Take a map. You can't always rely on the people around you to know the way.

My Dunwich Dynamo kit list:

On the bike:
SST-50, 1200 Lumens front light
2x Smart 1/2 watt rear lights
pump
2x bottles, one containing water and one containing Hi-5
Route card and map (in map case)

In my saddle bag:
waterproof jacket
bananas, flapjacks and a dodgy egg sandwich
spare batteries for lights
money
2x inner tubes
tyre levers
multi tool
plastic survival bag