Muggaccinos Pedlars - The Bullsheet

This Sunday, 30 July, Pearl Beach Jazz Concert Ride – then catch a train back to Hornsby from Woy Woy - up to 86km

THE RAINMAN is Sig [‘phone 0407 914 224].

Cycle from Hornsby train station car park [100  metres north of the Railway Hotel in Jersey St – N/W side of train station] at 8:30am sharp to our first caffeine fix at the Harley Hangout, Mt White Village Store, after 36kms, where the leather brigade strut their stuff. Anyone daunted by the 86kms from Hornsby to Woy Woy train station, with an adjunct to Pearl Beach, should park at Cowan train station and pick us up at 9:15am (on Old Pacific H'way) thereby reducing the ride to 60kms – there is no train disruption (track work) this Sunday on the Wyong line.

We should be rolling north from Mt White around 10:40am where at Calga we take the Bellbird route to Kariong [ETR of 11:50] and then pedal down the hill to Woy Woy [ETR 12:30pm]. It is a further 11kms on to Pearl Beach where a regular jazz concert is programmed for next Sunday arvo at the Sit ‘N’ Chat Beach Café (Tel: 4341 3686). Around 2:50pm after we've wallowed in the jazz and gobbled up lunch, we cycle the eleven clicks back to Woy Woy and catch a train to Hornsby at 2:26pm [stops at Cowan at 2:51pm], 3:02, 3:16pm [stops at Cowan at 3:41pm], or 4:02pm.

Brenda’s "unplugged’ wrap-up of Sunday, 23 July, Tour de Bikie Hangout - Mount White return - 100.5 clicks

On a morning that was cold enough to freeze the bollocks off a hot-blooded bull, three Partygoers/sleepy heads set off from the Hornsby locale while eight Partypoopers/sad sods with no visible lifestyle were already on the road. (Ann, Brenda, David S, Ian, John M, Mark, Silvia and Siggy). Alas, no Phil, he was attending a work’s conference in the Hunter. How on earth were we going to manage without him?  It was like going to school on your very first day and leaving your mother behind.

Fortunately, Sassy Sil, took the proverbial bull by the horns (this poor bull was not having a good day so far) and she and Mark led the charge of the Light Brigade and the Not So Light Brigade (sorry Simmo, see you at G.B’s – that’s Gutbusters not Grace Bros). The descent into Bobbin Head was so cold that The Widget was busy deeming which bike shop she could go to in order to get cleats fitted onto her fluffy slippers.  Meanwhile, Actionman, John, in his customary character building mode, decided not to wear his gloves.  Everyone felt sorry for the poor chap and offered (as you would) to lend him their own mitts.  Only John didn’t hear any of this because it was whispered so very quietly.  But the thought was there and that was the main thing.

Road Warrioress (Sil) won the pink polka dot shirt on the first hill and the second hill and the third hill and the forth hill.. Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!  And she was having an easy day after putting in two and a half hours hard yakka running on the bitumen the day before.  It’s time she got a life too. In the interests of truth and justice (an element that’s not always in evidence in this section of the Bullsheet), Peter T, for one, heavily contested the chase to the tops.

On passing some in-training marathon runners on the Bobbin Head incline, Ian shouted out some words of encouragement (or were they?)  Turned out they could run faster than he could ride at that point. Pretty impressive stuff.

On the climb towards Mount White and the first ‘smoko’ of the day, there is always the inclination to look down at the road if only to avoid a reality jolt at seeing more vertical concourse to clamber up. On one such occasion it was noticed that Cyclops has a graffiti artist amongst them. And why can’t he finish sentences? ‘Madam Lash sucks’. (What does she suck – is it a butter menthol?)  No, Ian, we don’t want your input here.

Perhaps we could nominate Fatso a.k.a. Simmo the Enforcer to be our Monsieur Lash It’s well known that he cracks the whip on Saturdays when he rides legs and again on Sundays when he rides wheels. Four weeks of sitting atop horses and he considers himself a pro but ask him which type of horse he rode the day before and he’ll tell you without hesitation ‘a brown one’.

At the ‘Bikie’ chow house, Elfi, not knowing that we had all decided to wait ‘til we reached Pie In The Sky to get stuck into our solids, ordered a gourmet sandwich and wolfed it down quite merrily knowing we were all salivating over our shirts watching her.

On the turnaround point Brenda and Marea found themselves being overtaken by a Peloton headed by Silvia, of course.  They flashed by without even pausing for the girls to hop on.  (We got our chance on the downhill and forged our way past them.) Not for long though as Sil and her disciples once again jumped the lead although Marea was pretty impressive on the pedals and almost caught Mr Ed up.

At Pie In The Sky we formed a large circuitous Peloton and this was made larger by the appearance of Andrew A. recently returned from his sojourn in France and Ireland – lucky blighter!  Warren Page, another would-be Muggaccino hopefully, introduced himself and joined in with the banter.

Alas, with no Phil present to blow the whistle on our lunch break, we went into extra time. Only when the sun started to go down and Ann began to yawn did someone make the first move towards the bikes that were beginning to rust up by this time.

Peter T, Marea and Brenda were the last to leave that sunny haven ‘cos we were waiting, as per usual for Sig to get his act together and his ass on his saddle.  In the meantime the others were well on their way, Silvia was getting real competition from the boys at this stage. Big Cog Mark spat the dummy and ditched the last hill altogether, as he’d had quite enough for one day.  Warren proved he’s up there in the A Team , Ian a.k.a. Sex Therapist was also in great form as was Awesome Andrew, who’s just too good to be true.

For the record, affable Ian won the yellow jersey this week but no average speeds or distances were noted (stupid Welsh Woman forgot to set her computer again) except that we were more awesome than ever!

FOOTNOTE

Silvia sends her apologies for not being able to ride with us next Sunday, as Culture Vulture that she is, she’ll be attending a conference on "A Day in the Life of Cleopatra".  Is she joking, or what?  For a reduced fee I will tell her in exactly two minutes what Cleo would do after switching off her alarm in the morning. First of all she’d head off for a quick dip in the Nile before breakfast, then she’d whip her slaves into action to get the tub filled with asses milk for her bath. Then she would get all tarted-up with make-up and don a Cleopatra wig for a dilly/dally with Mark Anthony and Bob’s your uncle – day’s over!

What’s with this "conference" business? And what sort of conference has Phil attended? The only self-improvement scheme he’d be interested in would be one promoting How to Catch More ZZZ’s. As it is he’s always bragging (even in front of long-time insomniacs, Bruce B, Brenda and Connie) how good he is at getting his head down and counting sheep.

Q. Why does Phil take a Ruler to bed with him?

A So he can see how long he has slept.

Boy boy from the The Welsh Widget ‘n The Smiling Assassin 25 July 2000 johnstph@cba.com.au