Bull

MUGGACCINOS Pedlars Sunday Cyclists - The Bullsheet

^{Scribe's
rap
up of Bundanoon in June - Brrrrr!!!}

^{Who
in heavens picked the Southern Highlands to visit in mid-June? And more so, why
did 18 assumably able adults take-up the galoot’s invitation and cycle up hill
and down dale, over the ensuing three days, often in seemingly freezing
conditions.}

^{Friday,
9 June - South West of Bundy, via Wingello-Hoodles Crossroad - 66kms

Alas,
only 3 starters [someone had to hold down a day job], Pete, Sig and PJ, rolled
out of the stately Bundanoon Hotel at 11am. It was clear and sunny, but the air
felt as though you were in a deep freeze. Somewhere in the middle of the route
was 15kms of off-road, which we thought would only last a few clicks. After an
array of headwinds, we jagged one going the other way. It was along Bob’s
Creek Rd and onto Sheepwash Rd where Pete and Siggy burnt rubber. PJ was
registering almost 45 on the flat, but he was slipping further back. After
almost 50kms we chanced upon Connie and Mark who’d clocked up an unimpressive
9kms on a leisurely jaunt from the Bundy pub, but still had the temerity to bag
PJ on being unawesome. Shortly thereafter with a Peloton increased to five, we
called in at the Sutton Forest Inn, and rapidly honed in on the only table which
was fetching a modicum of sun, ‘cause our buns were all but frozen off. There
wasn’t a lot of sun in the sun, but the pleasant dulcet tones of Van The Man
crooning “Queen of the Slipstream” tempted you to want to order a bot of
vintage Red, curl up underneath the log fire and hang the bikes. Around 2pm
embarking upon the final 16kms leg back from Sutton Forest, via Exeter, the temp
seemed to have dropped a bagful. Hence, it was full steam ahead and don’t
spare the horses. An hour later we were sucking on Prima coffee back at the Post
Office Café in downtown Bundy.}

^{Steve
Gunns and Annabell, who ride with Cyclops, arrived mid-arvo, followed by Brenda
and Russell at dusk. A Kiwi friend of Vicki’s, Angela, equipped with her rusty
old clunker, disembarked the 7:52pm train from Central in time to join us for
din dins at the pub - a rapid realisation of just how cold it was after dark had
put an end to any thoughts of sussing out the Southern Highlands’ restaurant
scene.}

^{Saturday,
10 June - Bundanoon - Fitzroy Falls - Kangaroo Valley - 95kms}

^{Simmo
and Nicky were on time, having rolled out of Castlecrag at 6:30. Ann Wilson
arrived from Nowra smack on 9:30am and, notwithstanding her familiarity with the
route, had no compunction in opting for the alternate “girlie” ride with
Nicky, Helga and Angela, proffering that “my friends think you’re all crazy
for cycling up Kangaroo Valley”. At 9:35am with PJ’s warning of how cold it
got after three o’clock resonating more ‘n more like a broken record, the
caravan of ten [Connie/Mark, Annabell/Steve, Brenda/Russell, Pete, PJ, Sig,
Dieter] rolled off in pursuit of our scheduled Fitzroy Falls pit-stop.
Steve/Annabell, not following Sig’s map, ended-up taking the circuitous route
that added seven clicks to an already arduous day’s ride. Brenda/Russell, aren’t
the types to make waves. Hence, they were happy to play follow the leader going
the longish route figuring that “those two up ahead must know the way”.
Smack on 11am, after 29.7kms [if you followed the map and 36kms if you were one
of the dumboes], the first [Mark/Connie], arrived at Fitzroy Falls amidst
warming weather - a step-up of almost a degree from the previous day, but
importantly the cutting breeze was down. Five clicks later we were seemingly
falling down the mountain at an ever increasing rate, which wouldn’t have been
so bad, except for the damp spots, ‘cause of no sun to dry the blinkin'
bitumen. Connie, Steve and Annabell went gangbusters, hell for leather stuff.
Perhaps a case of no brain, no pain, however, they later contended over dinner
that they had eased off the juice after sighting the initial wet patch. PJ and
Mark were more circumspect. Fortunately, no one came a cropper and we
re-assembled at Kangaroo Valley where the bakehouse looked bonza and the grub
tasted grouse.}

^{Erring
on the side of prudence, we didn’t dally long in the Valley, notwithstanding
it’s an awesome pretty spot to get lost in. Sig had told us that it was a 6K
climb, although most of us figured that he was a tad conservative as that
downhill had seemed to last forever and it was sheer. Hill rookies, Steve and
Annabell, on their 1st mountain sortie with The Ms, didn’t know what some of
us have painfully learnt about chain rings, not that we know much, except that
you don’t want too many of those spiky teeth things on the small front steel
disc that the chain grinds around, but as many spikes as you can on the rear
disc adjacent to the spokes. That’s if you want to successfully scale hills
like Kanga Valley without popping out ones kneecaps. In any event, we all made
it back to Fitzroy Falls, but some were more whacked than others. PJ and Simmo
had lied to each other most of the way up in a vain attempt to cajole each other
that they had climbed further than they had. Hey, it worked. Once a year cyclist
Russell, who lacks finesse but is patently effective, had a whinge when upon
passing The Scribe heard him mutter to The Enforcer “we’re almost halfway”.
Hitherto Russell had suspected that he was further up the dam climb.}

^{The
views off to the left of The Valley as the crew individually plugged his/her way
to the top, were spectacular, but no one seemed to mention it back at Fitzroy
Falls, as having completed the blessed climb was the only focus. At The Arrogant
Bastard’s behest, the last to arrive, Smiling Assassin, checked out Annabell’s
front cluster, ‘cause PJ didn’t think Annabell’s front small chain ring
looked small enough. Upon peripheral examination, Sig extended his condolences
to Tinkerbell, suggesting that it must have been a tough slog with a 42/26 her
lowest cog, hardly a match for Nurse Constance’s recently fitted 36/28.}

^{Don’t
know why, however, upon re-grouping and rolling out of the Falls, albeit only
about 1:30pm, the air temp had plummeted further. We all arrived back at Bundy,
safe ‘n sound, with a commendable 95kms on the dial, only to find that the
Girlie Group had peeled off 73kms doing the “Scenic Route”. Helga had
excelled and was keen to tackle Kangaloon the following day.}

^{Without
naming names, one Welsh chap figured he’d earned a few cakes. Hence, it was
over to the Café de Railleur to wash down a few cream buns with fine Lavazza,
and didn’t that striking brunette waitress set the joint off on a chilly June
arvo.}

^{Sig
had previously booked din dins that night at the Post Office Café for 7:30pm.}

^{Dinner
Sa However, that was pre-Kanga climb, so
Simmo made a management decision to push our booking fwd to seven bells, fearing
that we’d all be out-to-it by then. Lamb shanks soup proved popular, with the
contingent of 18 in fine form. No one noticed that Natalie Merchant’s Tiger
Lily and Sarah McLoughlin’s Mirrorball, provided the background ambience
stuff, however, we paused for a moment to listen to Cows with Guns, ‘cause it
was the label of the next day’s ride.}

^{Sunday,
11 June - Burradoo to Robertson loop - 65kms}

^{Sig
had displayed prescient perception the previous night by moving our rollout site
from our pub to the familiar Burradoo parking spot where we have commenced
previous assaults on Kangaloon’s Cardiac Hill. An unabashed Nicky announced
that she was done with cycling and was going shopping and Angela. The rest of
the previous day’s Girlie Group, Helga and Ann, together with Wendy, who had
driven up from the Gong, prepared for our assault on Kangaloon. Within a few
secs of departing our cars at Burradoo, pushing the pedals into a moist,
swirling headwind, rolling due east twds Robertson under sullen skies [we were
rolling East, the headwind was heading West] it was apparent to all of us that
this was a decidedly dastardly day, and we were in for a bugger of a ride.}

^{Around
midday, having crawled up Cardiac Hill, that old yellow wooden building on the
right as you roll thru Robertson, the one with the big sign Old Cheese Factory,
was a welcome sight. Management of the Pig ‘n Thistle Café must‘ve
remembered us from an earlier visit, ‘cause we were quickly shunted to the
room out the back, well away from the other guests and the grandiose cane
chairs. Actually it was the room at the front and the main entrance to the
joint, but with a chilly breeze outside, and wedged in any which way, other
guests had to settle for the quaint entrance. The John was out the back
somewhere which necessitated a few of the girls ruggin' up big time, prior to
running the gauntlet, such was the outside temp after one had peeled off a few
layers. To the casual observer, male chivalry ain’t our go, ‘cause Sig, Mark
and Simmo had tenancy over three seats up against the fire place and Dieter and
PJ had secured the window seat occasionally collecting a warm burst of rays when
the sun re-booted. The women, about five of ‘em, were caught betwixt ‘n
between. Soup was all the go. Sig provided some encouragement when announcing
that the Scenic Tourist Road, whilst a few Ks longer, didn’t contain any
ball-terror, quad draining climbs.}

^{Frank
‘n Fiona made their belated arrival mid-arvo and secured the snooker table to
bump a few balls around, as testimony that they got in some exercise, ‘cause
they hadn’t packed their treadleys and passed on tomorrow’s 9km bushwalk.}

^{With
Angela jumping a train back to Syd, 17 frost bitten Muggs ‘n friends settled
in for the three course meal in the Main Dining Room shortly after 7:30pm,
amidst the patter of a horde of little feet, ‘cause there was a 40th b’day
party, and the guests must ‘ve all previously been advocates of “procreate
or perish” or were tykes.}

^{Monday,
12 June - Bundy Pub to Bundanoon Creek - 9kms}

^{Steve
‘n Annabell, Simmo ‘n Nicky, and Delhi bound Frank ‘n Fiona said their
bye-byes, and the rest of us rugged up for a precipitous 9K bushwalk which Nowra
local “Annbivalent” selected to the Bundanoon Creek, via Constitution Hill
[a not insignificant road climb which we had to negotiate after we’d done the
bushwalk in the Morton National Park]. An hour later after the two bionic bums,
Sig and Peter Travolta, had opted that five Ks round trip would be enough, Russ,
Brenda, PJ, Backpacker Bruce and Annbivalent commenced the real decent. We soon
twigged that up until then we’d merely been negotiating the gentle slopes, or
was it the warm up. The next few Ks were tricky, slippery stuff with Bruce and
Russ each taking tumbles against terra firma.}

^{Around
midday, after one more visit to the Bike Shop Café, which sells a lot of coffee
‘n cakes, but very few bikes, we said our good buys and vamoosed Bundanoon in
June.}

^{Postscript:
PJ passed on everyone’s’ thanks to Publican, David Kerrigan, who apart
from owning a grand, stately mansion, maintained in fine fettle, proved to
be an accommodating proprietor. [Ian M had to bail out at the 11th hour
feeling butcher’s hook and Frank ‘n Fiona initially booked for 3
nights but only arrived for one night. However, the Publican refunded Ian
his deposit and our two Indian bound expats only had to pay for the night
they stayed.]}

^{Apologies:
Sara/Greg who couldn’t steal themselves away from a warmer climate at
Laurieton and Ian who is still}^b^utchers.

^{Phil
Johnston 13 June 2000}