It’s not often in a stage race that you find yourself with nothing to do. But here I am, sitting in a shady spot with the sound of the wind in the trees, birds, and hammering in my ears. Camping has its advantages.
After enjoying myself far too much yesterday, I decided that today, the Queen Stage, with 2700m climbing over 96km, was the day to wear my pain face. I went out as hard as I could, once again up the horrible fire road climb that divides Atherton Mountain Bike Park. Yesterday some 50 men passed me up this climb. I knew from my better days that I could hold a lot of them off on the descents so, on the front row of the start line again, the plan was to ride the first climb like the finish line was at the top.
My plan went pretty well, and included periods of grunting, drooling, and once I had to spit out a mouthful of Mule bar. The descent was fantastic, and in the technical undulations that followed, in and out of creek beds, I managed to catch a few more men, including the Italian who’s done 14 Tours de France and who told me I was a tough lady! I just hope he didn’t see me snotting on my top tube. The first 25 kilometres felt like a marathon in itself, but I enjoyed the techy descents and climbs even though I was pushing hard. Internal dialogue went something like this: ‘I’m doing it!’ ‘Amazing!’ ‘I love mountain biking!’ ‘I’m so emotional with joy!’ ‘Another guy… seeya!’, etc. etc.
After the technical feedzone the race changed to bitumen and rolling gravel road – my least favourite kind of riding!
I have two people to thank today. The first is the generous and avid MarathonMTB fan number 110, who I now know as Geert Biesmans from Belgium, who let me draft for a while, although I soon lost his wheel, then was passed by Martin ‘Wisatinator’ Wisata – the very man I’d been trying to defeat – towing several passengers too. I was unable to purchase a ticket in time and decided to try to beat a few Italians instead.
Internal dialogue as follows: ‘This is terrible!’ ‘I suck at this!’ ‘I can’t do it!’ ‘Another guy’s passing me… come back!’ Etc. etc.
Still, I pushed on as hard as I could, making horrible faces through an unchanging landscape of termite mounds, spindly trees, and red gravel road, eventually reaching the second feed zone.
Here I received some welcome news – the course had been shortened significantly, although marshals were unsure exactly how much.
Martin Wisata
The second person I have to thank today is whoever it was that detonated a bridge this morning at extremely short notice, forcing a last-minute change to our course. I filled up, lubed my chain, checked my bike over and jumped back on. I wondered how much they’d had to change the course, but decided just to keep riding like there were still 45km to go. It is the Croc after all – from what I’ve heard anything can happen.
Pretty soon I realised we must be on Mount Misery, the final climb, mostly because I was decidedly miserable. Some men were catching me and the climb changed gradient constantly, making it difficult to gain any rhythm. I yearned for my hardtail. I wondered where the finish really was. I turned my iPod on. Then suddenly a ‘10km to go’ sign popped up. I didn’t believe it until I saw a ‘5km to go’ sign about 3 hours later. Then it was time trial time. I was so happy to finish.
Tools of the trade, mechanics are getting busier
In all, 30km was cut out of the race, but I should point out that these were beyond a doubt the easiest 30km anyway. I quite enjoyed a cold shower with naked men from around the globe, washed our kit under a tap and ate a lot of food. Now I’ve got time to sit around and wish we’d brought our Scrabble (Travel Edition) with us. Irvinebank is beautiful, hot, and quiet. There’s a creek, a little row of mango trees near the road, some jacarandas in flower, and not much else. The famous old pub here closed recently and now the town has a population of just 40 people. I’m glad I visited that pub six months ago, when I was here racing at Atherton in May, but I’m sorry some of our European racers are missing out on a very, very ‘Aussie’ experience.
Today was a tough stage up the front of the race. David Ramos’s luck turned bad again, and he crashed out on the descent to the first technical feed station. He was taken to hospital. Ivan Rybarik won in while honorary Aussie (Canadian) Cory Wallace came in second, with Ramses Bekkenk in third. The men’s jersey stays with Greg Saw, who is battling nerve damage to the left side of his body from a run-in with a wait-o-while (aka stinging tree) yesterday. I moved from 57th place overall to 52nd, a good step towards my goal of finishing in the 40s. Tomorrow is the ‘Tour de Irvinebank.’, a horrible circle that everyone suspects will be on Croctacular undulating gravel roads.
Plus rumour has it that the 30km cut out of today’s stage will be added on. I’m choosing not to believe it!
Full results are online here.