Day Nine – Half Way!

It’s IndyPac season! As I write this, I have one monitor tuned to the 2022 race, and I’m watching the facebook feed on my phone. I know a lot of the dots, and I really wish I was one of them. I’m not, so I’m compensating, by writing about my own adventures. Next up is Day Nine.

It was dark, when the alarm went off. I lay in bed for a moment, appreciating having gotten a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed, then I threw back the covers and got up to greet the day. I’d saved a slice of pizza from the night before to get me started on breakfast, so I gulped that down as I got dressed then I rolled out into the pre-dawn light.

I don’t know what it is about sunrises, but they are beautiful. Riding through a sunrise is one of the most beautiful things I regularly (although nowhere near regularly enough, these days) experience, and it simply makes my heart sing. This morning was no exception. As I rode, the sky went through such a spectacular series of oranges and pinks that meant I just had no choice other than to stop and take photos of it every couple of minutes. With the world waking up around me it was easy to get caught up in the moment, and for a while I just rode and enjoyed.

My worry about JJ from the previous day was still very much present, but it had also brought out a resolution to enjoy the time I had, and basically it was just a glorious day. I was still trying to pedal at a decent pace, but stopped to see the beautiful sites, and take pictures of the luxurious facilities along the way. I was also for some reason having tummy problems, so the facilities were appreciated.

At this point my Garmin returned to being a source of frustration – it seemed that my fabulous “vaseline and a stick” repair, was only good for a couple of days, so I took full advantage of the gloriously cool and sheltered stopping place to add more Vaseline. Couldn’t think what else to do!

The most annoying part is that the power sensor was actually only ever lost for a moment, but the message stays until you manually clear it even once connection with the sensor has been re-established.

The country had changed hugely by this time since what it was a few days earlier – it was still quite flat but there was a lot growing on it with big trees and cropped fields.

Of course, as I rode I was rapidly entering some of the best wine country in Australia, and before long I was riding through acre after acre of vines. Of course, I didn’t stop to sample the grapes. Well, not often, anyway.

The weather was great, the landscape was beautiful, and my bike was rolling beautifully. Basically I was having a great time, and feeling a world away from where I had been in 2018. At this point of that ride I was in agony, with my knee feeling like it would explode, and having to sit bolt upright to balance my head on my shoulders, because I didn’t have the strength in my neck to support it. This time I had an upset tummy, but other than that I was feeling fine.

Riding into Clare I was keen to get some good food, but also something that wouldn’t take too long. I spotted a café that looked promising, so I headed in and placed my (quite large) order, with the plan to take my food while I walked down the street to look for some new batteries for my power meter. They took my order, then I sat down to wait. After a few minutes my smoothie came out, and it was delicious but freezing cold, and I quickly gave myself a head-freeze. I waited a while, until it had warmed up, and then started drinking it more slowly. Then finished drinking it. Then realised I’d been sitting there for nearly twenty minutes. I went to check if they’d forgotten my order. They had. And then they told me that some of the things I had ordered would take fifteen minutes. I asked her to just cancel those bits, and bring me what they could do in five minutes. Three minutes later, the person serving me came back and said it was all good, they would just do it all very quickly. I had to wonder why that wasn’t their default option… Anyway, fourteen minutes after that, she brought out my food.

The point was, though, that I had food! I headed off down the sidewalk as I munched on my food, and spent another chunk of time finding the right kind of batteries. I quickly changed them, then headed off down the road. What had been planned as a quick stop ended up taking an hour and forty minutes. But that’s just the way it goes, sometimes!

The day was still glorious, and I met some of the locals – I have to say, I was impressed!

As the day wore on I started to think about where I would sleep. In at least some of the past years there had been a rider refugee in Adelaide – a place open to all riders to stop for a sleep and/or food or assistance of some sort. I hadn’t stopped there in 2018, but I thought that this time I would. A quick check on facebook gave me the bad news though – the Trail Angel who ran the refugee was moving house, so it wasn’t open this year. I quickly moved on, while considering what to do.

It was apparent that I could make it to Adelaide that night. I wanted to do that. I could have stopped beforehand, but then I would have been faced with riding all the way through a city as the first thing I did in the morning. Past Adelaide though I wasn’t sure what my bivy options would be like, so basically, I wanted to stay on the far side of Adelaide. I got out my phone, did a quick search, and found what seemed to be a club/restaurant/hotel in a perfect spot, right next to the road. I rang, and said I wanted to book a room for the night, and what time did their kitchen close? The person on the other end of the line said no problem, how many people was it for and what time would I get there? I said it was just me, and hopefully I would get there a little before midnight. From that point the conversation became confusing.

She told me she could ask if they would stay open for me, but she doubted they would, for just one person. I asked if there would be anything available that late. She said yes, they could do some snacks, but that was it. I said ok, I would get some take away and bring it with me. She sounded surprised. I asked if reception would be open, or if they would leave a key for me. She said they would lock the doors when they closed. I asked if they would leave a key for me. She sounded very surprised. She asked what I was calling for. I said I wanted a room. Oh, she said, we don’t do rooms any more!

She had of course been going to book a table for dinner for me, which I guess explains her surprise when I said I would bring take-away. Anyway, I then hung up and rang a few more places, finally finding somewhere not far off the route that did have rooms, verified there was a restaurant just past it that would still be open, and started riding again. Through all of this I was standing on the kerb in a little street with nothing much on it, in a little town called Greenock, and I stood there for nearly 30 minutes. For all that time I was breaking my fundamental rule of Ultra-Racing: “Ride, Eat, Sleep – If you’re not doing one of them, it had better be because you’re doing at least two of them”. But I had a plan, so I started riding.

I was well into wine country now, and I was remembering my previous attempt, including the wasted half-hour following signs to find a massage therapist, only to be told by his mum that he hadn’t got home from the night before yet, and was probably still drunk somewhere. This time I was feeling much better, and enjoying the view, rather than suffering through.

As I rode, it suddenly occurred to me that I knew where I was – I recognised the hill that was just after what had been marked as the halfway point. I hadn’t even seen the paint this time, and I suspect that’s because the road has been resealed, but as a point for this year’s riders, look out for km 2735.5. I actually suspect it had been mis-marked a little the first time, because looking at the map here in my nice comfortable room with all the time in the world I realise that it is just past the top of the climb out of Greenock. I had literally stopped about a kilometre away. If I’d realised, I would have ridden the extra distance first, to give me a celebratory mood while I looked for a hotel!

I rode for a little longer, and then was forced to pull over by a sign, advertising grapes for sale. Ok, I may have sampled a few grapes along the way, but those grapes are someone’s living, so I was pretty restrained in my sampling. In this instance though $2.50 got me a huge bag of delicious cool and juicy red grapes. They went straight into the boat to snack on as I rode, and as each one burst open in my mouth it was a little moment of pure pleasure.

After a few more undulations I reached the top of the Torrens Gorge. There are some great dot-watchers about, and I know Tim was concerned about the danger of the descent, but honestly at that time the roads were quiet, my bike and lights were excellent, and the descent was just blissful.

From there the route led onto the bike paths winding in to Adelaide. In 2018, my experience was quite different. I had reached this point in agony. I had rolled down the Torrens Gorge, with no thought that time for the scenery or the joy of the flowing descent, and then was struggling with a poorly functioning GPS in absolutely awful weather – sudden squalls of terrible headwinds and horizontal rain. I was having to stop to check my directions, and every time I tried to start moving again the pain from my knee was enough to make me cry out loud. The path also had a series of huge climbs on it. I knew I couldn’t stop yet though, there was no shelter and I really needed a bed that night. Once I had a bed and some sleep I could pull out in the morning and figure out how to get home, but first I needed the bed. So I was gritting my teeth and trying to keep moving. I came around a corner and saw the path become a wall. I put everything I had into keeping the bike moving to get to the top, and as I approached it I saw what was obviously a crazy woman. In this worst of weather she was standing out in the open – literally just standing there. She wasn’t even going anywhere. I was thinking to myself that she was clearly crazy, there could be no good enough reason to be standing in the rain, when suddenly she yelled “Go Rowan, you’re doing great!”

It blew me away. The reason she was there was that she was waiting for me. I stopped to talk to her, and she said she lived nearby, and was there anything I needed? No, I told her, I was fine, I was just going to head into town and find a hotel. And then I rode on. Afterwards, I couldn’t even remember her name. I’ve always wondered if she ran the Adelaide refuge, but didn’t know her name to check. I told her I was fine, but the fact is that as I rode away I had tears in my eyes, and she single-handedly saved my IPWR 2018, just by waiting for me in the rain and saying some kind words. I was exhausted and I forgot her immediately, but at the same time I will never forget her.

2021, however, was a very different story. I was in very little pain (there’s always a bit, doing these things), the weather was much better, and the hills, mountains and vertical walls on the bike path had miraculously transformed into slight undulations. I rode on through into the city centre.

As I rode, I became aware of a car sitting close behind me and traveling at my speed. At the next set of lights, they pulled up beside me and asked if I was Rowan. They followed me through the centre and then we pulled up a little past it for a chat. Andrew and his wife (sorry, I’ve got a shocking memory!) were very welcoming, and offered any assistance I needed, but I was happy to say that I already had everything arranged. They said they had a gift from Adelaide then, and handed over a big bag of delicious and juicy green grapes, that perfectly complimented the red ones I already had. I was in a little piece of grape heaven!

I kept riding until the turn-off to my hotel, then straight past it to the restaurant I knew would be open. I got some food, and then headed back to the hotel for a lot of food and a good sleep.

While I ate though I checked the dot-watchers facebook page. Imagine my surprise to see that a super dot-watcher (actually I guy I have ridden with a few times in various events – g’day Pete) had spotted me leaving the route, and then confidently stated not just where I would be eating and where I would be sleeping, but even where I must have been when I made the bookings (because there was nothing else that would have made me stop in that spot). I was awfully impressed, and also just a little freaked out – but then I got over that and just became impressed.

It was a good reminder that you’re never actually alone on these things. I’m sure the guys (used as a gender-neutral term to include all the males and the one female) out there now have moments where they feel alone, but the truth is there are thousands of people watching them as they slowly make their way across the country, and willing them on. It’s a beautiful thought, really!