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Muggaccinos Pedlars Sunday Cyclists This 'long w'end', Friday, 16 to Sunday 18 March, Muggs pilgrimage to conquer Linger & Die Hill in Upper Hunter (i) Four ladies – ToothFairy, Anja G, Widget and Vicki S. (ii) Four chaps – Simmo, Whippet, Dirty Cheat and Pacific Pete. Due to a lean balanced crew, comprehensive planning, good “digs”, fine wine, PJ’s “home brew”, 287km over 3 days to L & D should prove a pilgrimage none of us will readily forget. Assuming that you will be carrying a rain jacket on your treadley, with only 2 nights, and no one to impress, we're travelling Spartan, with each person's o'nite bag capped at: (a) cycle gear/shoes (b) 1 pair jeans, slacks or track pants. (c) jocks 'n socks (d) soap, tooth brush, towel, comb (e) 1 @ sweet shirt (f) 1 @ t-shirt (g) 1 pair sneakers. We’ve planned to take only 1 support vehicle. I will take my car (Phil talking here) if we can't fit one small bag for each of 8 riders in one support vehicle. (David here) It looks like we will be taking Nicky's Commodore which will mean a little more room for gear, but don't tell any one. Vicky has volunteered to be the driver for a good bit of the trip. Thanks Vicky. Nicky is away working in in Melbourne and won't be back until late Friday - how did the boss know it was the Linger and Die? Please let me know if anyone who has a difficulty with above bag limitations, as if I need to take my car, I will be looking for 2 other riders to do a day's driving each. Finally, post-ride I will pencil an article on L&D for publication in Australian Cyclist magazine. The mag wants - (a) a big pic of 8 smiling faces amidst bikes in hills; and (b) lots of anecdotes and minuets of funny/interesting experiences as Muggs pursue their passion of "no hill is to rough and no challenge is too tough". Further details will be e-mailed to the above 8 journey(wo)men, after we touch base with Simmo. Rap-up of 10/11 Mar, Loop the Lake – 47km Sat and 85km Sun A
bizarre but interesting start to our “Loop
the Lake” weekend. The scene
was 11am at Hornsby station. Mama
Cass (Sue B) and Widget were busy
fanning around in the back of the trusty chuck
coloured, Volvo trying to fit in bikes
‘n bags. PJ was equally busy
in assuring a passing Nutso Schizo
that he wasn't an undercover cop. The
Fruit Loop, a chap in his late
20s who was high on some Jungle Juice,
had accused Dirty Cheat of "What's
going on mate? You've been stalking
me all night. I’ve seen it.
There is another cop car up the street in different red car.
What is with you Fuzz?" Nutso Schizo eventually accepted that Phil wasn't a "cop",
but rather an innocent cyclist, whereupon the Fruit
Loop surreptitiously, scampered off ducking from imaginary police.
However, perhaps the strange chap's suspicions suggest that others, even
strange "others", must also think Arrogant
Bastard has an authoritative, mischievous, intimidating dial. Meanwhile,
early arvo we learnt on the ubiquitous cell ‘phone that Steve R. was experiencing
problems of a different sort. His circa
’85 auto, had spat the dummy, big time and refused to go any further than
a servo in Wyong.
So much for Steve, The Mechanic,
having spent the previous weekend working on it? After
only 2 hours driving we arrived at Warners Bay, where PJ and the girls parked
their jalopies in a large, empty public car park adjoining the "Bayside
Tavern" - our prestigious, yet cost-effective digs
for the night. We collected keys
for Rooms 8 and 9 and the girls were delighted that "their" Room
8 had a double and single bed. But Dirty
Chat then produced some tripe he'd written in a Late Final Extra Bullsheet
edition, about him booking Room 8 and thereupon coveted the double bed for
himself, asserting that "two grummets
don't need anything bigger than regulation ‘jail cell’ single bunks" in
Room 9. After being bullied and
browbeaten by the tyrant, reluctantly Sue and I exchanged keys with Arrogant,
Intimidating Bastard, but the "quid
pro quo" wasn't forgotten around drink time, when PJ had to shout a
pre-din din aperitif luscious Miners
Mortar – that thick black stuff which seems to take the barman forever to
pour. After
lunch, Will Scarlet and Dicky
Knee (Mick McD), joined the ranks
and a jolly 45k cycle jaunt (with
lots of traffic to accompany us)
was embarked upon – full of promise. Arrogant Bastard
put his "tour leader" hat on
and under his shepherdship we pedalled south along the Lake Rd to scenic, Caves Beach
which Sue recognised - but I've
forgotten why. This was followed by
a not so scenic, dead-end route to a disused car yard - straight out of "Mad
Max". After negotiating an intimidating, quick scarper the wrong
way up a one way street, The Scribe was
sacked as Navigator, 'cause Will Scarlet
seemed to know why we were lost and how to get us "un-lost". Around
6:30pm whilst sipping our pre-dinner aperitif (Guiness),
courtesy of the Bed Burglar, Starter Motor Steve arrived with the evidence of his delay (a piece of broken metal) tucked into his pocket - a 8cm curvy bit with
mangled teeth which he referred to as off the fly-wheel.
We also met up with Will’s delightful wife, Marilyn, and BN crew, incl Carolyn, Doug,
Stephanie and Green Speed, Rosco. A pleasant repast was enjoyed at the BWP Woodfired Pizza where platefuls of scrumptious pizzas and vatfuls of various vinos were consumed with gusto - Yum Yum - all in the name of judicious carbo and liquid loading for the pending ride - the re-hydrating part after our exhaustive Sat. arvo tune-up ride was especially satisfying (but why did I wake up so thirsty a few hours later?) Then it was up the street to Cafe 478 for cake ‘n caffeine fixes, followed by an early celebration of St Patrick with Irish band, Celtic Earth at the public bar in the Tavern. At sparrows on Sunday morn we were greeted by a red sky (at least looking from the inside of red eyes, the heavens, albeit still ‘n quiet, appeared crimson/burgundyish). Was the o'cast weather going to hold out for us? Would we get thru un-dumped upon? Caroline N. informed us that an imminent surprise was in store - the empty car park of the previous day had turned into a Market Day extravaganza with stalls set-up all round our little motors, which we quickly re-located for fear of some marketeer selling 'em on us. Fortunately, the 85km Loop the Lake ride itself was an outstanding success - full marks to the organisers and the horde of local “vollies” – that well meaning lot, generally elderly souls, who with a smile on their dial, keep pointing us in the right direction. It was humid and sticky to begin with, but at least the heavens didn’t open and dump on us……Proceeds from the entry price went to a noteworthy charity - children's cancer treatment. We scored free cakies on the route and a Sanger Sambo at the end. Recognised lots of faces, incl. Whiskas, Hoss and Madame Lash from Cyclops and marketed www.muggaccinos.com to many a prospective Mugg, incl Scott which I belatedly returned a pair of gloves I borrowed from him a week earlier at Tour de Hills. No flats for us and no one got lost! Post ride, after much whingeing ‘n whining from PJ, about "come on girls, we mustn't let our personal hygiene standards drop", we took a free tub at adjoining Speers Point Swimming Centre, with the ladies climbing back into their smelly lycra. Driving back to Sydney, we experienced torrential showers, followed by intermittent sunshine, reminding us how fortunate we'd been in fluking two dry rides, with town folk a mere few hundred clicks to the north wondering if there homes had been irreparably damaged by the biggest floods in ten years. Snapshot of following Sunday 25 March "Breakfast at Brooklyn on the Pier" - 85/55/25km Start either Turramurra Stn N/E car-park 7:15am or Hornsby Stn car-park Jersey St 8am or Cowan station at 8:35am. 1st "Nosh Stop" Red
Herring Brooklyn Pier from 9:05am. 2nd
"Nosh Stop" Pie in the Sky - The Scribe - 12 March 2001 |
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