…here’s a whosit

The graduate and family

Originally uploaded by wamblicious

Danya graduated with a first-class honours science degree from Sydney University yesterday. It only seems like a little while ago that he first came down to Sydney and crashed on my couch for a few months.

He’s grown in many ways since then, and it’s a real pleasure to see him honoured for his hard work when the end seemed so uncertain at times. Congratulations, Danya, and may the rest of your studies and other endeavors be as successful.

The ceremony was a bit dodgey in parts, though; two young wogboys in front of us were talking incessantly, playing with the their mobile phones and even playing “rock, paper, scissors” ending with a punch for the loser.

The Prochancellor, who gave the commencement address, managed to tell us in about four ways in 5 minutes that Sydney University is ranked high in educational standings in Australia and around the world. He said little of note apart from congratulating the graduands and admitting them to their degrees and remarking how many advanced maths degrees and university medals there were to award compared to previous years.

The final speaker was even worse. She was introduced as a graduate from 1991, who had been in England and German universities, but her main claim to fame, according to the Prochancellor was that she had raised several million dollars in research funding for the university. I was hoping to at least hear something interesting about her science research; what it was, what (if anything) she had discovered or contributed to her chosen research field. Not a chance.

When she opened her mouth, I was even more disappointed. She spoke. like. this. and she. said stuff that. may have. been interesting. if. she hadn’t stopped for. dramatic pauses every so. often.

It was something about how much a need there is for scientists to solve the world’s problems, whatever they may be. Apparently scientists may be the key to all the problems we have if only we can retain the skills of critical thinking and problem solving.

Danya looked very dapper in his hired suit and graduation gown - sort of like an academic superhero as he strode across the lawn towards us, when we arrived at the great hall, robe flaring in the wind. I’m sure I looked nothing like as good at my graduation.

Unfortunately the weather was quite inclement. After some lunch at Bad Mannors, Kathy, Marissa and I took a taxi back to the motel while Danya started walking back to the University. It immediately began pouring and I hope he didn’t get his testamur soaked in the rain.

Since it’s been a bit wet to ride as consistently as I have been lately, I decided that some better local mapping is in order. While I have been driving roads and correcting local data on OpenStreetMap, I felt that the map still looked a bit bare, especially given the bridge and fords crossing nothing.

Free satellite imagery unfortunately doesn’t have enough resolution locally to make out the course of the creek, so I decided that there was nothing for it but to actually take a GPS (my new Garmin Oregon 300) out along the creek.

The first attempt was just along the section out from the house. I went up and back for about 1 km through not very deep water, apart from one section, trying not to get covered in spider webs.

That still looked a little sparse, so I went out again yesterday, after several days of heavy rain. This time I was struggling against the swollen current as well; the worst of it was pulling myself up a rocky section of rapids using both hands, holding the GPS in my teeth. Another section had me dog-paddling with one hand over a section too deep to walk.

The water wasn’t too cold, maybe because I eased myself into it by coming down a small side-creek and I was more concerned for the first while in the main creek to not get swept off my feet than with the temperature.

It was a real throwback in memory to childhood trips down the flooded creek in inner tubes. We would be flooded in for days sometimes, and large portions of the day were spent in roaming up and down the valley with friends playing in the floodwater.

Once again, I came out of the creek with bruised and bloody shins and stubbed toes. It felt like I’d accomplished something; and the map looks somewhat better for it.

Paul Sheehan has an article in today’s SMH that asserts that Islamophobia is a fabrication, in response to an approach from a graduate student doing a thesis on the topic.

In a statement of the bleedingly obvious, Paul states that Islamophobia is a fear of Islam, or a fear of Muslims, and he states that the “prevailing orthodoxy” - some sort of bleeding-heart, left-wing conspiracy he’s made up, I imagine - maintains that there’s a undercurrent of racism or prejudice against Muslim society. Naturally, in Paul’s view this all a load of crap.

Actually, Paul, it’s such a load of crap that the UN Human Rights Commission have adopted a resolution against religious defamation, primarily aimed at preventing people from equating Islam with terrorism. Although I agree with Canada that human right laws should be focused on people, not religions, and think that such a resolution could be used to prevent legitimate criticism of religions, I agree that people should not be vilified solely for the cultures to which they belong or the beliefs they hold.

Paul’s states that he does not “fear” Muslims; the quotes are his. What a cheap trick - putting the word in quotes as if fear is not fear but the politically correct code that his opponents use to tag him as a rascist. Paul wants us think that this is all a word game by people who don’t live in the real world - that there is no fear of, or prejudice against, Muslims.

And yet, he immediately starts telling us that there are real reasons to fear Muslims (or at least Arabs). He references half a dozen incidents that all involve criminal elements in the Muslim community - Adam Darwiche, the Skaf brothers, Muslim and Lebanese bikie gangs and Sheik Hilaly - as examples that we should be wary of the Muslim community. I’m sure that the same logic could be used against the Vietnamese community, or the Italian community or against the Anglo community. Criminal tendencies are not something foreign to your ethnic grouping, Paul. White people are not innocents who are being corrupted or targeted by a largely evil Muslim community.

Paul, since you’ve gone to such lengths to tell us that we should rightfully be fearful of Islamic elements in society, what does that say about your declaration that Islamophobia is is some sort of idealogical construct and not reality? As you say, it’s a small number of violent antagonists who are Muslim, and yet the papers have, at times, been full of articles or letters denouncing the Muslim community in more general terms; and you also say in this acticle that Australians have become uneasy about Muslims in general. That sounds like a reasonable description of Islamophobia to me.

In fact you’ve actually shown yourself as a poster-boy for the anti-Muslim community. Why not just come out and say it - “I’m racist and I’m proud”. That’d be more honest, Paul.

I know, I know - I shouln’t respond to SMH trolls trying to drive up page hits. Normally I just skip over articles by either Paul Sheehan or Miranda Devine because I know that they’re both fuckwits with an idealogical barrow, claiming that they’re oppressed by the Greens or the political left or whoever. I’ll try harder to ignore him from now on.

I read an article from the BBC Online recently, which talked about how the Velib system in Paris for public bicycle sharing is a failure - bikes stolen and vandalised and that the whole fleet might have to be replaced; that JCDecaux (the operators) can no longer afford to run it.

According to this article, that’s not quite right. JCDecaux is trying it on, as an attempt to renegotiate the maintenance contract. The company runs the system in exchange for the rights to 1600 billboard displays - its profit coming from them - while Paris keeps the user-fees for Velib rental (its profit).

Apparently the real problem is small. From a total fleet of 20,600, only 7,800 (according to the BBC) are missing - 15 stolen per day, out of 80,000 daily users.  And Paris pays JCDecaux 400 euros for each bike stolen above 4% of the total, to a total of 2 million euros. Apparently everyone is happy except JCDecaux management, who want a bigger piece of the pie.

While their tactics may not be working in Paris, I bet they’d steamroll the Sydney City Council and NSW Government when (if) they open such a scheme here. Given the local ineptitude with public/private partnerships, I bet we’re a ripe target for abuse again.

It doesn’t take much more than a bicycle pump, a bucket, a cooker range hood. Oh, and some uranium. Here’s how.

As the instructions say,

Making and owning an H-bomb is the kind of challenge real Americans seek. Who wants to be a passive victim of nuclear war when, with a little effort, you can be an active participant.

Apparently reading this sort of material  is also the sort of  action that will lead to the CIA thinking that you’re a credible threat to global security, and sending you to Guantanamo Bay. Go, Team CIA!

While Wilson Tuckey and other conservative voices played politics by claiming that the policy of assuaging greens played a part in making bushfires worse (arguable), Christians seem to be sure that policies on abortion are to blame!

Here’s an extract from a media release from an evangelical christian mob called Catch The Fire:

CTFM leader, Pastor Danny Nalliah said he would spearhead an effort to provide every assistance to devastated communities, although he was not surprised by the bush fires due to a dream he had last October relating to consequences of the abortion laws passed in Victoria.

He said these bushfires have come as a result of the incendiary abortion laws which decimate life in the womb. Besides providing material assistance, CTFM will commence a seven day prayer and fasting campaign for the nation of Australia tomorrow Wednesday the 11th February.

CTFM has called upon all Australian Bible-believing God-fearing Christians to repent and call upon the Lord Jesus Christ for His mercy and protection over Australia once again.

What a loony

By the way, I was watching the news last night and, while his colleagues were praising firefighters and offering support to victims, Tuckey looked like he was fast asleep in the background. That indicates how much he cares…

Bobbie just called me out to watch a segment on the news about the bushfire devastation in Marysville Victoria; it was pure disaster porn. The reporter went up to several survivors, who were obviously in shock, and asked them if they knew anyone who died, and how they felt about that - were they taking it badly… One of them was breaking down on camera and the reporter smugly stood there with his arm around her shoulders in a pseudo-comforting mode - what I expect was seen by the station as showing how warm and comforting the reporter (and the station by extension) was, but it was an action only necessitated by the crassness and insensitivity of the reporter. It’s one of the few times recently that I’ve yelled at the TV.

Channel 9 - stop  the fake human interest stuff and keep to reporting news. Respect the feelings of people who left everything and chain up your vultures!

An article in the Times Online reports that some towns in Italy, which are governed by racist political groups, have banned “foreign food” - as if tomatoes and pasta were originally native of Italy!

The whole article is full of fail, such as the following:

Mr Zaia said that those ethnic restaurants allowed to operate “whether they serve kebabs, sushi or Chinese food” should “stop importing container loads of meat and fish from who knows where” and use only Italian ingredients.

This wingnut politician also apparently refuses to eat pineapples and dares anyone to prove that he’s ever eaten a kebab Not only that, but another nutjob says that the desire and ability to work longer hours than others in your industry is “anti-competitive”. That word; I do not think it means what you think it means.

Funnily enough though, French cuisine is not to be banned. However, there is confusion over Sicilian cuisine as it is influenced by Arabian cooking, especially in the number of citrus fruits in their dishes and the use of coucous. Wow! funny that, that the kneejerk policy of an irrational xenophobic organisation that is scared to live in the real world turns out to be irrational, full of stupidity and not thought through.

Italy seems full of fail at the moment.

Walking into a delicatessen around here almost seems like walking into a Python sketch now. As well as English cheeses being harder to find, it appears that French cheeses may be next on the list to go. The guy at the Newtown Deli was complaining that he has had a lot of trouble getting his usual supplies, and I couldn’t find Roquefort anywhere, last week. Maybe the exclusion from the unpasteurised cheeses ban has ended. That’ll be a sad day.

Since I couldn’t find any Red Leicester, I decided that I’d try some Rubicon Red from Ashgrove; hey guys - suck my balls! To say that Rubicon Red is a “Red Leicester style of cheese”  is almost as truthful as saying that orange plasticine  is a Red Leicester style of cheese. Reading the Ashgrove website it appears that they think that adding annatto is all that’s required to make something comparable to Red Leicester. Bullshit!

Say - maybe I’m becoming a cheese snob.

Blue Knob

Originally uploaded by wamblicious
I was wandering along the Casino to Uki route using Google Earth, and realised that the only peak that matched the profile in this photo was Blue Knob. Homeleigh isn’t even really visible, as there’s another range in the way, from where I was riding.

It was then I realised that I had a GPX file of the route that was downloadable from MotionBased, and I could geo-reference the JPEG. I fired up gpscorrelate and a short while later and I discovered that the photo was taken on the road down into Cawongla, on that little loop around the north side of the descent.

Note to self - geo-reference all photos from cycle rides before uploading them to flickr. Not that I take many photos at times other than cycle rides these days, but having a GPS tracklog I can reference at all times would be handy for later reference. I think I saw mention on some little keychain-based unit, that would be quite handy to have around.

Of course, if I get another GPS unit, I’ll have more of them than I have computers to extract data to

Last night, I watched Tsipi Livni explaining to an ABC correspondent that Israel would not show restraint in pursuit of Hamas. I was hoping for Matt Brown to seek elucidation - does that mean that the deaths of all Palestinian civilians would not serve as a restraint on Israel’s actions? the deaths of all Egyptian civilians near the border as Hamas retreats? the war with Egypyt and other Middle Eastern Countries as Egypt protects its own citizens?

Surely any civilised country, a part of an international community, would accept that restraint in military action is something that makes you a civilized country and makes you part of the community with full rights. Not Israel, apparently; it will show “no restraint”. It wants the rights without the attendent responsibilities of being part of a community.

Further remarks about not possessing calculations on civilian casualties also seemed interesting. Does Israel lack the empathy to say that 1 (or 2 or 3 or… or 800 or…) civilian deaths in Gaza will provoke a reaction? that there is a political price attached to dead civilians? that the more deaths there are, the more that Israel will be condemned?

It’s like Israel has utterly negated the value of civilian life in Gaza. ‘If we kill them all, that is not something that is too high a price. In fact it is not something that we can place a value on, compared to the safety of Israeli citizens.’ This is pure solipsism at work.

Nothing matters to Israel outside the same safe existence of the state; not the thousands involuntarily displaced from their lands at the creation of Israel; not the thousands suffering now in Gaza. Israel exists in a vacuum separate from everyone else, where it doesn’t try and get along with countries that purport to border it; no-one else has ever suffered genocide like the original jewish settlers; the land it lives on was ‘terra nullius’; nothing will stand in the way of the comfort and safety of the settlers who can continue to expand into new territory that is theirs for the taking. It’s the primitive belief that people who don’t talk your language, who dress differently, who eat non-kosher food, who don’t worship your gods, are not ‘people’. An atavistic attitude that shouldn’t exist but which the hard-line jews exhibit in spades.

Israel does not believe that common standards of community decency on the equivalent value of human life, no matter which people, apply to it. It does not recognise the validity of judgments by the international community. It should be forced to. Sanctions should be applied to force it to realise that it is not above the law and not more important than any other county, and international troops should be in Gaza to enforce a peace.

The international community created the problem after World War 2 by shoving aside Palestinians to make room for the state of Israel. The international community should immediately go in and mandate an opening of borders to allow full flow of aid and food and civilians in Gaza and The West Bank. Hamas militants and Jewish hard-liners should both be treated as the terrorists they are and an equitable solution for Palestine and Israel should be created by the international community and applied by international force.

Isreal should be no more than a humble petitioner to the community, with no more power than the nascent state of Palestine. Until it plays fair with its neighbours and until they accept it as a neighbour state that acts neighbourly, the whole area should be an UN protectorate; the IDF and Hamas military and the Fatah military all disbanded.

So there.

I woke up a bit sore, but not too bad, considering. The saddle-sores had lessened, but the legs were still feeling over-used. It wasn’t raining, but the sky was more threatening than yesterday. Not enough to convince me to put on a raincoat, though.

There was a decent headwind, and it took me an hour to get to Braunstone, crawling up the climb out of town towards the Orara Way turn-off. After Braunstone, the rain came over - just light but consistently. There was an electronic road sign near the start of  Orara Way stating that there was bridge-work and road closure on the 21st of January, which left me wondering how bad the bridge was. When I got there, I found that it had been asphalted over since I came north, removing the pick-a-plank issue; actually better than on the northerly trip.

It was slow going all day. The headwind kept my speed down, and I was getting a bit hungry and tired before Glenreach, so I ended up walking up the last part of the climb out from Kremnos Creek. It’s only a small climb, only about 6 or 7% over about 1km (40m rise), so I was a bit disappointed about that. At Glenreagh, I had two pies and an ice coffee; one wasn’t enough as I still felt hungry.

The weather cleared for a while until Nana Glen, at which point it started raining on and off again (the wind was consistently strong, though). I stopped at Coramba for a chocolate milk and got into a bit of a conversation with an older couple about what a nice way cycling is to see the country and where I’d come from. It turns out that the woman (no names exchanged) had lived on Left Bank Road, out of Mullum, a few years back and we reminisced about how nice Byron used to be before the tourists hit. When she was back there visiting recently, she couldn’t even cope with waiting in the traffic to get into the town like I did, and did a U-turn and back out into the country :).

There was mist floating around the range west of Coffs, and I found myself getting a bit chilly, but it wasn’t raining buckets like last year as I rode down Mt. Browne. I almost hit the speed limit half way down, and my average speed picked up from 13.2km/h to 13.6 over a few hundred meters Not bad when it had been sitting at 13.2 or 13.3 for the best part of 80km.

The MotionBased data  is here; the route on Google Maps is here.

Today was nothing special, but long. I left at 6:30 - only an hour to pack, compared to the two yesterday - and reached Whiporie at 9:30. It was nice  and cloudy, so the temperature was kept down. I had a burger and a sports drink for lunch, but the burger was late coming out and I’d  finished the drink by the time it arrived, so I was offered a free drink and therefore also had a vanilla milkshake. My bum was a bit sore by this stage, so I stayed off the bike and lounged for an hour in the shade overall (the sun was getting warmer by this stage). Setting off again, I continued doing what I’d done before lunch, counting off the kilometres and stopping about every 10km for a brief rest.

By 30km out, I was suffering, having to wet my jersey to stay cool, despite the cloudy conditions. I was almost out of water by the time I reached Junction Hill. After refilling the bidons and having a sports drink, I continued on the the last few kilometres, trying to not sit down too much and to rest my bum. At the motel, I had a shower and applied Savlon to the affected areas and had a kip.

I woke up at about 4pm and watched the tennis for a while, and then went down to the nearest pub for dinner at about 6. More savlon, some junk TV and then I was asleep by about 9:30.

The MotionBased data is here, and the route on Google Maps is here.

After a period off the bike to rest and recuperate (among other things ), I was ready for the road again. I got up at 5:30, but didn’t leave until almost 7:30. Packing up everything including the tent etc. took more time that I wanted. Marissa was still up and looked slightly embarrassed about it - we’d said our goodbyes last night in the hope that she’d have an early one.

I only got a few hours sleep, as I had stayed up to midnight to finish The True Game trilogy. If I’d thought about it, I should have left the final few chapters to read over breakfast. It was also a disturbance every time Marissa came into the kitchen, and when Kath got up a couple of times and spent time talking to Marissa so the period between midnight and morning was not as restful as I wanted. However, I didn’t feel overly tired (and if I did, I had no choice but to ride).

By the end of an hour, I had slogged up Montecollum. It was getting a bit hot by the time I got there, but the heat backed off down in Goonengerry, and it took only another 40 minutes to get to the school. At Rosebank store, I had some vege chips, a Cherry Ripe and a fruit juice,  which may not have been a good choice, as it started to come back at me later. I dropped two refilled water bottles down the store steps, and discovered that my small 2000 Olympic bottle had a tiny hole. The store owner taped it up, but had no waterproof tape, so water still leaked out slowly.  After stopping for lunch - a turkey salad sandwich which had barely enough turkey to qualify as turkey anything, and a sports drink, of which I could only drink half - I went around to the bike shop on Keen Street to see if they had a replacement bottle. They only had normal sized ones, so I later went to find an appropriately shaped 600ml bottle of water.

The guy at the bike shop chatted with me for a while about various routes and hills around the north coast (apparently there’s one riding around Barker’s Vale that climbs 1000 metres on dirt in 2km!), and confirmed my decision to try the Kyogle road followed by the Naughton Gap road, thereby avoiding the Bruxner Highway. He said that the Gap climb started nice and shallow, until about halfway up, where it got a bit steeper. He described it as not too hard, which would be right if you weren’t pushing 30kg and it wasn’t stinking hot. As a nice little heart-starter for a roadie, it’s a perfect.

The ride west from Lismore was nice and mostly flat, although there was a bit of a hill before The Disputed Plain, which was nice and flat again. I guess it’s wonderful cattle country, which has been passed through different families’ hands over the years. There’s certainly no disputing that it’s hot, and that there’s not much shade.  Along the way I passed over a railway crossing, which seemed at the time to go the wrong way, and I thought that it might have been some side line. Looking at the map later, I see that it’s a loop in the old main line to avoid the hill at Leycester. It’s a pity to see the line so un-maintained; I noticed the same thing crossing the railway bridge south of Mullum on McAuley’s Lane. If someone doesn’t pull their finger out soon, it may be too late to repair a lot of the infrastructure if ever the line is to be re-opened. Instead it’ll all have to be replaced

By the time I reached Naughton’s Gap, I was stuffed. Halfway up the shallow part (about 1 km long) I was off and walking.There was a house near where I dismounted that had a sign for selling hands of bananas, and cucumbers. I should have stopped for refreshment, but I didn’t and kept trudging up the kilometre of the steeper section. From the top, I shot down, but had to stop at the railway bridge to let a car through; probably a good thing as it was a pick-a-plank and I would have had to slow to get across safely, anyway.

Sometime in the next few kilometres, I heard a pop, but neither tyre seemed to be going flat, so I assumed that I must have kicked up a rock, in my weaving motion up the climbs. I struggled the final 6 or 7 km and, when I hit the Bruxner Highway turn-off in Casino, I stopped to refill my water bottles, which were almost empty. I emptied a 1.25l bottle completely in refilling my bidons. At the motel, I had a long shower and drank heaps to refresh myself, as I was definitely dehydrated. After dinner I had another shower to wash the pub smoke off me, from the Cecil where  I went for dinner, and  was preparing for bed. Then I noticed that the rear tyre was flat and had to take the bike out of the room and change the tube. There was a tiny bit of metal still stuck in the tyre, which I removed. By the time I’d finished replacing the tube it was 8:30 so I didn’t bother trying to patch the old tube (I had a couple of extras), and had a third shower to clean off the oil and dirt I’d accumulated during the repair. Then I crashed.

The MotionBased data is here, and you can see it on Google Maps here.

Thursday night, I was going out to the tent sometime after 10pm - about to settle in for the night. I noticed that the sky was lit up on the horizon every few seconds by lightning. It was obviously a massive storm way out past the valley in the west - maybe out Doon Doon way. I called Danya out to have a look and we noticed that it was getting closer (apparently slowly).

By 11:30 or so, it was completely on top of us, rushing all the way down the valley. There was very little rain for such a massive storm - just flurries - but the lightning display was fearsome. Mind you, the day had been so bloody hot that Danya and I had taken off up to Wanganui and paddled around Coopers Creek for half the afternoon. This was purely an electrical storm, full Ed Kuepper style, not a rainstorm.

Every so often the tent would shudder with an enormous burst of wind, but mainly the wind in the tops of the surrounding forest sounded like an ocean. The power went off at this time, and we didn’t get it back for about 22 hours. Country Energy’s help line stated that power was off from Bangalow to Byron Bay and Mullumbimby and the surrounding valleys out in the hills.

Summer storm 01/01/09 Originally uploaded by Danya R
By the time I went to Mullum in the late morning, power had been restored there, but the Wilson’s Creek Road was covered in debris and had apparently been blocked by branches in at least on spot.

I decided that today would be the day to take the N800 and GPS and do some more  mapping for OpenStreetMap. First I went up Upper Wilson’s Creek, which has the feel I recall for the whole valley during my adolescence - numerous creek crossings all in flood, small windy roads where cars have to pull over to let others pass…

Not that Wilson’s Creek Road was ever that bad when I was young here, but there were several floods that kept us from school; the old crossing, near where Pioneer Bridge, was often under water, with a flying fox for the kids when the school bus couldn’t get through; logging trucks sent smaller cars scurrying for the side of the road, and it seems that half of our childhood was spend mucking around in inner tubes, like warped variants of hobbits, on the creek.

I just read a book detailing the centenary of schooling in the valley… it’s a wonderful snapshot of life here since the selections were established. It also makes me realise how tenuous a hold on the area we have. Electricity was only introduced into the valley in the 50’s, and that was also when bitumenising of the road was started - at the gap and slowly working out to Huonbrook by 1961.

There’s a lovely story of Stan Robinson heading out at 6pm with a truck-load of bananas. At 6am he rode his saddle pony home, after having only traveled half a mile along the boggy road and having had to unpack and pack everything twice to try and get un-bogged. After breakfast he went back and finally delivered the bananas to Mullumbimby railway station later in the day. Upper Wilson’s Creek is still only dirt, as is upper Main Arm Road, up to the Mount Jerusalem State National Park.

I was going to  stop and turn around back to Mullum when I hit the national park, but there was a sign saying 12km to Uki so I figured that I should really continue on and see what the rest of the road was like instead of merely mapping Main Arm Road. The surface is all quite nice for a dirt road - no real potholes, and just a few graded channels across the road to let the water drain better. It didn’t seem too steep across the NP, but there were a couple of climbs where I thought that riding up and down them might be tough.

Then I hit the downhill to Uki. It’s 2 km of fairly steep road, which is only about 13% but felt steeper. It winds down out of the NP and back to bitumen until it hits Rowland Creek Road and, at the end of it, I was wondering whether it was sensible to drive back up it. By the time I got to Uki, I decided not to and continued on through Smith’s Creek Road and the old Pacific Highway.

Overall, Mann’s Road had a drop of about 210m over 2 km. I’m very glad I didn’t try and ride up it the other day. Maybe next year with a lighter load and after a day’s rest at Uki. Maybe with a mountain bike The section on the profile between vertical dividers shows the drop.

Today was the day of the saddle sores. For a long while after getting back on the bike at any point, I’d have to try and find a comfortable position, stand up on the pedals and side out of the saddle for a few meters, and then sit down again, hoping that I’d have got used to the pain. After a while, the numbness would be overtaken by pain and I’d have to stop. I also had calf cramps on and off, and the lower back was sore enough for me to need to stop and stretch after a while.

Leaving Uki, it took me a while to get comfortable, and by the time I did I was hit by the Smith’s Creek hill. At the bottom therre’s a sign that merely says 15.7% gradient. I saw what I thought was the top and rode up as far as  I could, hoping that I could get up it on the bike. Then I had to stop and walk at about the same time I realised that it was merely a bend in the road, and I was only a quarter of the way up.The rest of the way over to Stoker’s Siding was uneventful, although there’s a bit of a climb before the old highway.

The climb up the Burringbar Range was a test - 5 km of uphill, not steep, and there’s a slight dip in the middle, but steep enough to get out of the saddle at times. Otherwise it was just a metter of keeping my head down and not looking too far ahead. I couldn’t stay too far left, either, since I was having trouble holding a line, and didn’t want to fall into the gutter. It took me half an hour, and I stopped for about 10 minutes at the top, eating the trail mix pack that the girls had packed for me.

The downhill side was wonderful. I hit about 65 km/h and make great time across to Mooball. From there there were several smaller climbs, but the lack of a second uphill lane made them hairier. At the Billinudgel stock road I turned off and under the freeway and onto the dirt road into Billinudgel by the back way. The sound from the freeway is dreadful - all these houses that must have been built in what was a relatively calm (given that the old Pacific Highway was not a huge distance away) and successful middle-class area.

I stopped at the general store in Billi at sometime around 10:30, and demolished two pies and a milkshake. I was still feeling reasonable, but the time sitting down off the bike meant that my bum was more sore for longer after getting back on it, and the heat was starting to rise. I had to stop for water at the Pocket primary school, and again a while later a guy asked if I needed anything as I rode past his house. I asked for water and got a refill while he told me that several years ago, he’d ridden from Cairns to Melbourne. All his water came from a filter unit, as the tap water was undrinkable (bore water).

The next section of road to the Main Arm turn off is all patched and re-patched and horrible to ride over. By the time I git to the relativey shallow gradient of the hill before the turnoff, I had decided to walk, rather than being all shook up. It’d taken about 1:15 hours for the 11km from Billinudgel to here. The ride into Mullumbimby was ok, but I was not looking forward to Lavertey’s Gap. Kath had offered to take my luggage off me, so I called from the BP Servo and asked if that was still an option. I waited at the bike shop, which has moved from Dalley Street to Tincogan Street (replacing the other failed bike shop), and kath asked why not put the bike in the car. At this stage, I was not really in the mood to ride further in the heat, so I accepted.

The first thing I did after unpacking the car was to dive into the creek. Cool water on a hot day is a wonderful restorative, but I still have a sore back and bum. Those won’t be fixed so easily

Here’s the MotionBased data, and here it is on Google Maps.

Hills and more hills, today. Looking back from halfway, it was obvious that I’d crossed the shield wall of the old volcano - this wall of mountains, the Mackellar Range, was all along the horizon.

For some reason, I’d had it in my head that Kyogle was 20km, not 30km from  Casino. The heat and the flies were building to a really annoying level by the time I got there. I had to stop and revive and refill my water bottles, and I consumed 2 bacon and egg rolls at this little store at the top of the hill just before the main street.

After Kyogle, there is a right hand turn and you’re faced with what looks like a massive climb up to this lookout back over the Richmond Valley. On the other side, I came across a roadie from Nimbin - a young guy on a regular training ride - who said that there were a couple of similar climbs before a nice big downhill fro which you could see Mount Warning. From there, he said, it was all undulating country on to Uki.

He was also telling me about the  local club cycling. Apparently road racing is banned about Murwillumbah, but Criterium racing is big. Byron Bay and Ballina both have clubs now, and Murwillumbah’s C grade is the equivalent of other local A grade levels.

The first of the two climbs was hard; the second was tougher - maybe 3km or so and steep. I was walking up both, and I had the first, and I had to stop several times to catch my breath and let the legs rest. Finally I hit the downhill - about 5km to Cawongla, and probably steeper than the uphill. I’m almost amazed the roadie climbed this, but then he was talking about there being real hills around Nimbin

I stopped at Cawongla to refill my water bottles and saw that they offered Devonshire teas, so I had one, as well as a sports drink. It’s taken me about 4:30 hours to get here - 6:45 to 11:15 - and it’s only 45km!

The next 11km was really depressing - long climbs (not too steep, but I have to walk every one) followed by  similar descents, all the way to the Lillian Rock turn or thereabouts; 11km in one hour, which actually wasn’t as bad as the first 4:30 hours :), it just seemed worse because the heat had kicked in.Nearing the top, I stopped on the side of the road (basically stopping for a minute or so in every piece of shade), and a woman stopped to ask if I was OK. When I said I was exhausted, she said “good, I thought that you might have had an accident”. Apparently she’s seen a few. Perhaps the B-doubles and logging trucks etc. side-swipe cyclists who are having trouble holding their lines, or perhaps the cyclists are swept down in the backwash from the trucks.

Finally there was another swooping decent which led into the Tweed Valley; wonderful views of Sphinx Rock, and Blue Knob, as well as Mt. Warning. For some reason I had thought that I wouldcome across the Doon Doon turn earlier, but I guess that’s because I was counting from Casino, not Kyogle. Kunghur is only 15 km or so from Uki, and that’s how far away Wilson’s Creek is - over Mt Tarrawyra. Given the way I’ve handled the load and the heat over 50 metre climbs today, I think doing twice that on dirt tomorrowacross the back way is really foolish. It’s the old Pacific Highway for me.

At least the road from Kunghur is only small undulations. I stopped at the Sphinx Rock Cafe to refresh my water and to drnk heaps, and then set off at a steady pace, past some roadworks that covered the bike in mud, and about 4 “pick a plank” bridges. I could take then at a good speed, since they were in good condition, and short, without major gaps.

I finally rolled into Uki at 4 pm - almost 9 hours on the road (6 and a half riding). The Guest House has a swimming pool out the back, fully appointed with disability paraphernalia - chairs that swing around to be lowered into the water, and guide rails down a sloping bottom, and I was given a beach towel as told to make full use of it, but I declined for an immediate shower.

The place is wonderfully appointed - leather armchairs, old wooden furniture, a pool table, nice big airy rooms (4 of them) mostly adjoining a big common area sun-room and then a verandah, where we had (me and the only other guest, Graeme, and the owners) a very nice home-cooked meal in the twilight. The room on the website is the one I stayed in, so that gives you an idea of the comfortableness of the place.

There’s also a couple of big combined bathrooms, all decked out in disability chic,  and the whole place is very accessibility oriented. One of the two ladies who run it is an ex-nurse, and they have a contract with the MS Society for combined holidays for carers and their patients. The carers can go and get some rest and sightsee, etc., while the charges are looked after.When I changed into my MS fundraising shirt I didn’t know this, and they asked if I worked for the Society so I told them of my involvment in fundraising, and the riding I’d done on the Big Ride.

Jules is an excellent cook, and gave me some home made banana bread as afternoon tea. She asked what we wanted for dinner (I said lots of carbohydrates), and we were given some lovely mini-quiches as appetisers, followed by a very nice spag bol, and some lime souffles with ice-cream for dessert (a bit of an experiment, apparently, and delicious).

Breakfast was two nice egg tartlets, a breakfast parfait (fruits and muesli and yogurt in a glass), and banana bread. They also piled a heap of fruit into the fridge in the room for me to take on the ride, but I didn’t have any extra room to carry it unfortunately.

It’s very much a family atmosphere, and I wholely recommend the place, although I’m not sure I’d ride all the way from Casino to get there again Of course, dozing off to sleep, I felt that it was all doable again, now that I knew the route. Given better packing and better preparation, I think that I’d make better time and be in better shape by now. The only leadup I had to this trip was the ‘Gong, which obviously wasn’t enough.

Here’s the MotionBased data, and here’s the equivalent on Google Maps.

An awful day. I threw a back muscle when packing this morning, and had no power in my legs all day. That, combined with the excessive packing I have obviously done, meant that it took 7:30 hours on the road. The last 50 km from Whiporie to 4:30. I was almost out of water, too, given the heat and the easterly wind that hit me in the face over the last 10km.

From about 40km out I was seriously starting to wonder what I was doing, and daydreaming about some cute young girl stopping to offer me a lift. At 25km to go  I stopped at the single camping ground on the route, and found that the water was all non-drinkable - fine if you can boil it, I guess, but useless to me. It wasn’t until Leeville primary school at 10km to go, after husbanding the last half a bottle for some time, that I could refill.

Lunch at Whiporie was a nice break. I got chatting with the new owner and his friends. He and his wife have only been there since the start of November and are still coming to terms with dodgey suppliers and how to get what you order, and all the issues with running a general store in the middle of nowhere. That includes being a mail man, and all the other little things needed to support a rural community. Hopefully they make it work, since there’s nowhere else for food between Grafton and Casino.

I had wonderful dinner at the Cecil Hotel in Casino. It was supposed to be Hokkien noodles with chicken and prawns. However, they were all out of prawns so they substituted calamari. It was done to perfection, and I followed it with some apple crumble that was just as well done.

Things not to pack:

• sand-shoes
• jeans
• batteries

Update: Here is the MotionBased data, and here is the same data on Google Maps

The Coffs Harbour motel was most generous with breakfast. Basically I was given two for the price of one. The woman also gave me a banana, and asked if I wanted any avocados, as they had heaps. I ate everything but the banana, which I saved for the top of the big hill.

An inauspicious start to the ride; I had to walk up the last section of the road up Mount Browne. Either I’m less fit or I’m carrying too much stuff (or both). I got to Coramba at 8:40 - that’s about 1:12. Last year, it only took about 1 hour, if I recall correctly. I also have a bit of a speed wobble that probably results from an unbalanced load at the front.

I arrived in Grafton after about 7 hours on the road - that’s 14 point something km/h. There was a hellish westerly  and it was hot, hot hot (tar was melting). Coming out of Glenreagh, I met a German cyclist who had left Germany in August and was ridng around the world. After cycling across eastern Europe and the subcontinent and Australia, he’s off to NZ and then the Americas. We didn’t chat as he said that it was too hot for further conversation.

Grafon is dead on a Sunday - none of the numerous pubs open except for one new one. After collapsing for a while with some panadol, I sought it out, had a beer (purely medicinal) and a meal, then went and collapsed almost before the sun had set. I guess that riding in the country on a weekend is not the best option when you need to find something decent and filling to replenish you after a long day.

Update: Here is the MotionBased data, and here is the GoogleMaps equivalent