www.Muggaccinos.com The Bullsheet
Whippet's rap-up of last Sunday, 15 Dec, “Hornsby to Woy Woy Bar-B-Q ride” - observations from the head of the Peloton – for a while!
Following saying our tah tahs to Publican who was taking stuff to our McKell Park Barbie, we rolled Nth up Jersey St; 'twas a tad after 7am. The early pace evidenced tyro Waratah Vet, Andrew, up-front together with Muggs’ habitual pace-setters, No-Play, Navigator, Nurse Karen, Princess Caroline, Rocket Ros, 'n Whippet during the first section thru Mt. Ku’ring’gai. Late starting Sputnik and Marcel were hot on their heels in pursuit. Adam 'n Eve, Ellie-May 'n ToothFairy represented the 2nd Wave, with Scribe occupying the rear-gun. Bazza 'n BackPacker were amongst the throng somewhere.
With Caroline maintaining a dynamo cadence, Whippet pondered “would the sleek super cat in pink panther garb 'make a break' from the chaps on the undulating ups and downs before the first climb to the Fire Tower Lookout at Water Lilies Nursery?”
As we passed thru the forest approaching Pie in the Sky, the devastation from the previous weekend’s bush-fires had patently been so intense there was little left at Ground Zero, except ash. Remarkably amidst desolation all around, two familiar isolated properties on the LHS stood untouched with green gums protecting their perimeters. Large white bed sheets were strewn between burnt-out trees with writing – “Thanks to the firies!” and “All hail the Firies!” We had evidenced first hand the remarkable results of those Vols and Full Timers in saving homes where bushland all around had been decimated.
Later at Mt White several crew commented that they had felt disorientated during the familiar 3.9km descent from Pie in the Sky to Brooklyn Rd, purely 'cause the familiar verdant green gums were missing. Truly, it was like cycling on the moon, a totally different descent where you were reticent to attack the corners 'cause it was first time over the circuit. Such was the devastation from the bushfires.
Whippet, who’d tried to hang on to the swift flying front-runners was rendered the first casualty. A puckered-out Brian eventually opting for the more moderate pace of Temperate Tony. After being AWOL most of last Spring, the wily old fox, BigGears, had joined our ride at Cowan and was displaying a prudent cadence “on his first run back after a spell”.
Whippet and BigGears formed a troika after collecting Princess Caroline, who’d reported that she’d too “got blown out the back” over the Hawkesbury River climb. Deploying her royal charm ‘n elegance, the Monaco Princess was happy to shoot the breeze with Temperate who was in a leisurely canter; in stark contrast to BigGears customary ‘modus operandi’ of 'grinding in the big chainring'.
We ultimately learnt after re-grouping at Mt White, that Yamaha & Navigator had pulled-away from Waratah, Sputnik ‘n Marcel during the final few clicks to the Bikie Hangout - our customary Mt White Nosh Stop.
Bank Teller fielded a 'phone call from an exasperated Waratah who'd hammered on in pursuit of Navigator 'n Yamaha, but pulled-up "lost" at the phone booth 75m short of the Village Store, where there is a Turn Right sign to the Hornsby/Newcastle Expressway. Teller explained that Waratah was only 75m shy of the Nosh Stop, and suggested that if he was still confused, he should wait and Whippet and Co would be there any second. To which Waratah exclaimed, "Gosh! I can see 'em. Sorry, I got to go!" And hurriedly hung up. That staccato 'phone call was testimony to the ego and rivalry that drives many of the faster Muggs. Whereas others such as Scribe will take devil-may-care risks hammering down seriously narrow gorges in Angel-Gear to recoup lost time!"
As the large field filed-in, Andrew sought-out the resident Muggs’ Mechanic to check-out his troublesome rear derailleur. Upon inspection, Brian initially surmised that perhaps someone, anxious for an advantage at any price, had nobbled Waratah’s bike, 'cause the gear change was frightful. However, after further investigation it was evident that “derelict owner maintenance” (a bone dry cable) had been the cause: the driver had struggled with several gear changes during the opening 35km assault. The old adage “Fail to Prepare, and Prepare to Fail!” had come home to roost on hapless Andy as he couldn’t change his Triple from the middle chainring for the rest of the ride.
More pics at Publicans_barbie_pics.htm
Navigator and No Play splendidly averaged 31 km p/h to Mt White at just under the 1 hr 8 min. Our 2nd leg was 19.7km to Calga, down to Mooney Mooney Bridge and up to the Kariong Shell Garage.
Our final 17km leg took us down hill past Phegans Bay into Woy Woy where we jumped aboard an early train, all eager to arrive at Hawkesbury River station where Publican had a Banquet laid out for his royal guests - bangers, rissoles, shashliks, sliced spuds and lots of salad (for Ellie-May 'n Nurse Karen) fruit and bread, with Beverages to Boot.
Not having eaten for several hours, and upon a magical train ride around the picturesque Hawkesbury water’s edge, the scene was reminiscent of a bunch of infants attending a party at “far-off” grandmas, where upon arrival into the “party-room” we were all goggle-eyed at the fare we were about to demolish.
Cycling, with the big cash outlay and regular out loadings of RedBacks to keep the treadley up there with the best technology, is a classic case of New Toys For Old Boys. The fellowship and camaraderie flowing on to participants who slog-up lots of hills, and suicide slide sheer precipices, in an environment where there is nowhere to hide, is a platform for partying thereafter of the kind not experienced since we were all enthralled 'enfants'. Albeit goggle-eyed kids weren't as adept at taking the Mickey out of their class mates at every opportunity.
With tummies a-bulging, ToothFairy, Waratah, Teller 'et al' re-mounted around 2:15pm for the 4th leg of 26km back to Hornsby. With Kiwi Mike, Annie Get your Gun, Karen, Yamaha, and a few other 'party-ites' settling into the second bot of Vino.
One of the revelers, who'd prefer to remain anonymous, informed Teller that Tornado and other cyclists joined in, with the Christmas festivities finally finishing at the Brooklyn pub after five bells.
A marvelous Xmas Barbie, the brainchild and hard effort of Publican, had proven an outstanding success. And a fitting finale for a colourful year in Muggs' metamorphosis.
Scribe 20 December 2002