Author Archives: Magoo

About Magoo

I hit things.

Backdoor Ride Report 5/6

In the darkness and the rain they waited,
Fingers crossed and breath a-bated,
Alas Van Diemen never did appear,
As if the conditions where something to fear.

Stealthy and Flash continued their affair,
Matching bags, hats and in years to come, hair?
I ponder if Flash is actually Stealth in a future sense,
The possibilities of the space-time continuum are immense.

C.Hippo’s Jesus slippers continue to brave the weather,
As CFO they have been banished from my consciousness forever,
Although his commitment to the cause is to be respected,
His hairy big toe leaves me a little dejected.

SatNav rolled in with all his friends in tow,
Setting the pace until a certain roundabout, where he slows,
Phantom’s rear lights hovered in the distance yonder,
Mesmerised by their beauty I was almost clipped by a Honda.

Chilled and sodden was this group of six,
Yet showers await, providing a quick fix,
If it wasn’t already clear, let us declare it henceforth
These six are true hard men (and women) of the North.

Memorandum: Socks

The Office of the CFO has recently been approached by several ER members in a state of confusion around sock height.

The following memorandum should help ease concern:

First of all, as a member of ER, as a cyclist and potentially as a human being (*) you must wear socks. Naked feet in cycling shoes is potentially worse than 6 year old white knicks worn in the rain. The CFO recognises that those strange people who engage in “triathlon” tend to neglect to wear socks, but do you really want to be seen to be a triathlete?

Secondly, and importantly, socks draw attention to your feet and your calves. If you have great legs (Finchy, Rob, Jason), you have the right, if not the obligation, to wear amazing tall length socks. If you have cankles or hairy legs please be discreet.

As per the Rules, ideal sock height is quoted as being “Not too long and not too short”. How exactly does this translate?

  • If the socks are so low they cannot be seen, please refer to the above.
  • Ankle or “anklet” socks are the property of your 12 year old daughter. Please give them back.
  • Short socks, made popular by the MTB brethren many years ago, are slowly been weeded out of clubs and races everywhere. Take this as your warning.
  • Business socks will be allowed, as length is generally in line with regulation (as long as they meet the criteria below)
  • Those STUPID calf guard / compression things that go up to your knee ARE WRONG.
  • Aim for mid calf. As discussed below, the better the rider and the better the legs, the higher you can go (to a point known as “cutoff”).

What about the socks themselves?

  • They must be EQUAL in height
  • They must MATCH
  • No holes in your knicks, no holes in your socks.
  • They must retain elasticity and not slide down
  • Tight socks are one of lifes pleasures. Go on. Buy some.
  • Merino socks are fine. Fluffy wooly socks are not, unless your name is Russell Coight and you are driving a 4wd in the desert.

My feet are cold, what do I do?

  • Please invest in merino socks. The sock can remain thin while warm is maintained.
  • Booties rock. As long as careful consideration into length, brand and colour is taken.
  • Oversocks are also totally cool, but must remain “fresh” and clean at all times.
  • Toe covers, as long as they are subtle and barely noticeable, are allowed.

Please enlighten me as to colours?

  • The rules will allow any colour, however;
  • As a general rule for the cyclist new to sock selection and outfit coordination, black shoes/black socks and white shoes/white socks is a safe bet.
  • If you are a man or woman of style, socks can be used to compliment or provide juxtaposition to an outfit.
  • Fluro socks are in. Be wary, the same fluro socks on one man can be brilliant, on another horrendous.
  • The better rider you are, the more you can get away with.

* It is yet to be determined which alien race Chippo forms part of. Normally wearing Jesus sandals while riding would be considered a CFO breach, however we are considerate to all cultures and religions, even those from outer space.


Yours in good looking feet,


Around Kosciuszko In A Day

MOVING TIME: 15hr 10min
AVG SPEED: 21km/h
ELEVATION: ~6,800m

The alarm goes off at 1:20am, but I am already awake, trying to decipher what kind of illicit substances I must have digested when I agreed to spend the weekend with 3 Ultra Marathon Runners. Ultra Runners carry a reputation for being some of the fittest and most determined people on the planet and I had agreed to attempt the “Around The K in a Day” loop with them. But so had Flash. I guess at least we had each other…

After eating as many weet-bix as I could and making a final call on clothing (given moderate temperatures outside), Flash, Norman and I set off down the steps of the Dulmison Lodge. With my Ay-Up lights on my helmet, I acted as the spotter for a wide array of wild animals on the road down to Jindabyne. Skippy, Bambi, The Fantastic Mr Fox, Bugs Bunny and Wally the Wombat were all out in force, threatening to make a mad dash across the road in front of us. In some cases the threats turned into action, followed by hurried squeals of “WOMBAT LEFT” or “ROO UP” and the rather urgent application of brakes.  

After some quick abuse from the camp site near Lake Jindabyne, we commenced the relatively short climb out of Jindy (in the dark you can’t see how steep the road is). Not long after, we pulled into Berridale, discussed the cricket with the spiders in the toilets and refilled water. Still dark, we slung a left hand turn and headed out towards Lake Eucumbene and Adaminaby (renamed “Admin’s Bilby”). The sun rising over the hills behind us was marvelous – orange, pink and red filled the skies, grazing livestock were scattered across the fields and a rainbow glistened ahead.

Pulling into a service station at Adaminaby, we were serviced by a very bored looking man behind the counter. I broke the tap outside, which he then fixed. Then Norman broke the tap again. After consuming some food and speculating that perhaps if he was bored he could clean the feral bathrooms, we left the land of the Giant Trout. As soon as we rode over the crest we were hit with the first headwind of the day. Progress slowed somewhat, but this gave us greater opportunity to revel in our surroundings. I only wish I could better describe the look on the faces of cows as we rode past – jumping bolt upright, still with grass out the side of their mouths, staring at us in complete and utter (udder?) disbelief. Then a younger one would make a run for it – triggering the whole heard to make a run for it. Luckily never in our direction.

After another left turn (how exciting!), we started to pick up more speed, entering the National Park en route to Cabramurra (renamed “Cabramatta-Turramurra”). The lines on the road turned orange and the gradient started to climb. Overhead the clouds started to get thicker and a mist appeared in the distance. We were in Alpine territory now – minimal signs of wildlife, grassy terrain lacking trees and cobblestone creeks and clear as you could imagine. And then came the rain. Damp and cold, we rolled into Cabramurra, leaving little puddles under the table in the Snowy Hydro Museum / General Store. Flash and I were slamming down pies while Norman was testing the patience of the clerk, pacing around (to keep warm) looking like she was about to rob the joint. We left to the gentle calming words of “it’s all downhill to Khancoban from here”…

WELL THAT WAS A LIE. It’s downhill to Tumut Pond Reservoir and then VERY UPHILL for a good distance. Not wanting to believe the hill could possibly be that big, I attacked the first section, turning the corner to find a whole lot more uphill. Yellow signs with little cars driving up triangles uphill. After what seemed like forever, we rolled over the top to find PD, Mrs Flash and the car. DRY RAPHA MERINO SOCKS FOR ME! A quick refuel and we continued down to Khancoban. My spirits were lifted (my anger at the lies had turned into despair given the fatigue in my legs) when we came across three wild horses (Mum and two foals) who ran alongside us before crossing not 20m in front of us. Amazing. This point in the ride also signified the commencement of the Marsh Fly attack. Not as bad as we had expected, but their bites are seriously not amazing.

Marcus and Andrew, the other 2 Ultra Crazies, had left Thredbo at 5, keen to chase us down. Norman, keen to not be caught, demanded the Khancoban stop was to be water only. I snuck in some more food, managed to spray Aeroguard in my face and followed her and Flash down the road. At this stage I am seriously getting tired. My knee is really starting to ache. A sharp pain is developing behind my knee, possibly due to my calf and hamstring turning into concrete under my skin. If I can just get to Tom Groggin (the bottom of Dead Horse Gap), I’ll be right. I commenced the second last climb out of Khancoban, knowing that once I hit the lookout, it will flatten out. Alas there are two lookouts, so I spent a good 5km thinking “this HAS to be the last corner” after passing a small stop which overlooks some of the Snowy Hydro infrastructure.

Finally I climb up the final rise to see Flash on the ground, no shoes, with his wife pouring Coke into his mouth. It looked worse than it was (although by this stage he had some pretty bad hot-foot) and after some amazing waffle like biscuits from Laura, we commenced the descent and the “undulations” together. I had in my head they were like Bobbin Heads – not as bad but certainly not flat! We rolled into Tom Groggin, where we were caught by the two boys. Norman was nowhere to be seen, which had them on their bikes and off again in a vain attempt to catch her. Ipod in ear Chippo style, I commenced up the final hill. Dead Horse Gap is over 15km and 1000+ vertical meters and we already had 300km in our legs. I’m tired, I’m hurting – in fact, I want to cut my right leg off. I’m mentally drained, but I came this far and I’m not going to quit.

I made Leather Barrel creek. Then I made the Orange Snow poles (and gave one a high five). PD flies past in the car telling me I have about 1.5km’s to the top. I’m dancing out of the saddle, with Flash just up ahead. FINALLY the clearing appears and WE ARE UP. After a quick high five, we fly down the hill to Thredbo, only stopping to give an Echidna right of way.

What a day. It hurt like hell and I loved it.

Around the Bay 250

A lot of people had a lot of different experiences on the Around the Bay day, so I’d like to think I am starting a collaborative ride report, with certain amendments and gaps to be filled in by others. Here is my recount.

After deciding to avoid the clutter of the official starting gates, the ER peloton of Magoo, Goaders, Jenn, Alex, Boycey, Jamie, Greg and Michael set off from outside our apartments (1km from the start) at 5:30, full of the energy and excitement of small Christian children on Christmas day! … only to seemingly get every red light on the way out of the city. We had established a few ground rules – nobody should be left alone and some groups may naturally form along the way. Turns out the risk of groups “naturally forming” was rather immediate as Goaders powered off from the word go, driving a solid pace. He and I flew up the West Gate bridge, with the likes of Jenn chasing (with a heart rate of 196).

We formed a peloton for the highway dash down towards Geelong. Holding a nice average of around 40, with spurts of 45. We avoided catastrophe twice when we found two solid metal gates thrown across the road shoulder. They did claim victims, but luckily none of us. We were claimed by confusing signage however – Goaders took an exit (which turned out to be a dead end street), and a good 100 other people with us. Lesson here – don’t follow Sydneysiders while in Melbourne!

Chippo and his bunch flew past us down this stretch too. I jumped on to their bunch and started telling his mate all his dirty secrets. Not to be outdone, Goaders led the ER’s past the bunch, at what must have been 45-odd. This wasn’t set to last long – they put the foot down and dropped us. Goaders, Jenn and I thought we could reel them back in – but then I heard the all so familiar sound of the air escaping my front tire.

I was out – thanks to Jamie, Michael and Alex who stopped to help. We were on our way again. Out of nowhere Andy H appeared and joined us for the run into Geelong. I was a little upset I’d lost 10mins on Goaders and Jenn (and later learnt that Greg and Boycey had also had a mechanical) and was pretty determined to chase them down. We continued on, grabbing on to groups, only to find them to be too slow and moving forward again. Outside of Geelong we came across a large bunch doing ~28. I was pretty tired, so figured it made sense to stay with them, but needed to get their speed up. Nothing like a small blonde girl holding 35 on the front for 10mins to inspire 20-odd blokes to up the pace for the ride into Geelong.

We were split in and around the next rest stop. Again, Andy and I forged ahead, occasionally finding riders, working out quickly they were either too slow or not super willing to work with us. We started the fight against the undulations going into Portalington and then I spotted THEM. Two black and red jerseys in the distance. Already much more fatigued than I ever planned to be at that point I put the foot down and flew up and past Goaders and Jenn – quickly abusing them and then dropping in behind for a well-earned rest. Thanks Andy and Goaders for dragging us to the Ferry – I was pretty dead at this point.

A pumpkin and lettuce sandwich has never tasted so good. I threw that down, as well as a few bottles of Powerade and we boarded the SS Bike Porn (or the Queenscliff to Sorrento Ferry). All in all the rest stop was probably about 50-60mins, including the ferry ride. It was pretty overcast, but still quite warm. I might mention now that my plan was to sit in behind people (ER or not) for 90% of the ride, doing my bit on the front where required but generally pacing myself. Since the flat and having to make the catch, I was a lot more fatigued than I had planned to be. Little did I know, that was only going to get worse.

Getting off the ferry, we set off back up the coast. After about 10mins, Goaders, Andy and Jenn pulled off for a bathroom stop and somehow Michael and I lost Alex and Jamie behind us. Michael and I forged on into the “hilly” country. We had one nice group of 3 guys that worked well with us for a while, but most of the run between the ferry and Mt Martha was very lonely. Everyone we passed sucked our wheels until they fell off. It must have looked pretty funny seeing me dragging a line of 10-15 blokes along the seaside. The headwind at this stage was starting to get a bit serious, so it was pretty hard work.

I have to laugh at Mt Martha. It’s not even 1/3 of Bobbo, but people were walking up or slowly grinding up in their smallest gears. I think this is where Andy H caught us again, but we sailed past 50-odd riders in our big chain rings. The top looked like a rest stop – it wasn’t, it was just full of strugglers.

Andy, Michael and I continued down to Frankston, where we stopped for water and food. Typical Melbourne weather, there was a bit of rain about now. We set off down the Nepean Hwy in a horrible, horrible headwind. I’m really hurting now, but still need to help out Andy on the front. Same deal as always, we find groups, but they turn out to be too slow, so we shoot off again in search of the illusive large peloton doing 35. The Nepean Hwy turns into Beach Rd. Suddenly I find myself in a predicament – Andy is moving ahead, Michael is dropping off behind and I need to make a decision – I followed Andy.

At this stage my back hurts, my butt hurts, I’m developing hot foot, I had it in my mind for a while my toenails had come off, I’m going through all sorts of emotions. Andy managed to get with a small group – I kept falling off and getting back on again. The side of the road looked like a war zone, with people lying all over the place, some crying, some with their legs in the air. We passed the final rest stop (which again, looked like a battlefield medical area, except without the blood), determined to finish.

This was the longest 20km of my life. I’m in serious pain from all the work up to now. Andy is desperately hoping his calves don’t cramp. The wind lands punch after punch into our chests as we pass hundreds of riders on the last stretch (many of the 210 and 100 riders). The city skyline appears. Finally we start doing hook turns to get into the city. We randomly run into Greg who missed the 250km turn off and was finishing off the 210km ride. I’m so desperate to finish – I’m out of my seat for the run down City Rd and I sprint across the line at the end, almost taking out a Bupa girl handing out medals. I pull up, get off my bike and come close to passing out as we wait for the others.

It was done.

FANTASTIC EFFORT by all. Many comments to me and others about how “Easy Riders” don’t exactly take it easy!


Newcastle Ride Report

Six ER’s – Goaders, Greg, Admin, Michael, Big Phil and myself – set off from the Railway bridge in Wahroonga (note to self, not the overpass near Abbotsleigh) at 5am for what was to be certainly the most epic ride I have ever done.

Stock standard ride up to the Pie in the Sky – which wasn’t yet open. There was a very lovely chocolate brown “guard” dog waiting for us near the entrance, begging us not to leave with big puppy dog eyes. Alas on a Goaders schedule, we continued onwards past the Glue Factory (doesn’t smell as good on Saturdays), past some magnificent black and yellow cockatoos (which almost caused Goaders to come off his bike) and down into Gosford. Stunning morning on the coast, pity about the yobbos in commodores who gave us the odd beeping. Having done 80% of the climbing getting to Gosford, it was a cruise along to The Entrance. We sat down to a massive breakfast only to run into one G. Boycey! Earning points taking his lovely wife away for their wedding anniversary.

The Central Coast Hwy, the long flat bit up to where we met the Pacific Highway, was awful. Rather dry and windy, rough surfaced, lots of sticks and with a small crappy shoulder that had us in single file (again copping it from Coasties). I was very relieved when at the end, Greg turned to me and said that part was easily the worst bit of the ride. Turns out it wasn’t but I was happy at the time! We did the rolling group thing (which was effective to a point) down into Swansea , enjoying blue smurf frozen ice things (half frozen sugar water basically). Taking Wilsons directions, we hopped on the Fernleigh bike path (an old railway line) all the way to Adamstown, which INCLUDED A TRAIN TUNNEL AND A STATION! I was very excited. So was everyone else when we realised were we going uphill for ages – it very suddenly got a lot easier!

Lunch at Newcastle was grand. We lost Admin and Phil to the lure of the train (and their families). Seagulls circled looking for every opportunity to attack Goaders. We all ate HUGE amounts of food – Mr Goad ordering a steak with potatoes and salad and then an extra family sized wedges. The sweet potato chips from the burger place next door to the Brewery are awesome, FYI.

Back on the bikes, the real fight against the wind began. Even on the bike path we copped it. On the highway back up to Swansea was even worse. If it wasn’t fully in my face, it was hitting me from the side and throwing me off path. Even drinking plenty of water, head started to ache at Swansea (where I switched to Powerade).

Gosford. FINALLY. After taking some random way through West Gosford industrial estate (full of meth labs no doubt). Everyone was hurting. Except for Greg, who looked full of the joys of spring when his brother turned up in his car. That said, EPIC ride sir. To get that far is an amazing effort given you had only ever done 100km once or twice before. Eating more food and drinking more sugar water, we gazed up at the lights at the top of the next climb. Getting 80% of the climbing done in the first section is great, except when you do the return…

I had a false injection of energy at Gosford, probably from excitement of being close to home (since when is Gosford close to home…). The climb up was pretty cruisy. The next climb, from the creek up, felt like it went on for 10km. Finally down the other side and across the Peats Ferry Bridge, only for Goaders to stop, take his shoes off and start scratching around like a giant chicken. Michael was stone silent and I was in stitches! It felt like we were dragging cement up the final climb. My ass was so sore I was out of my seat for a lot of it. We are all also going slightly mad at this time.

FINALLY we get to Asquith. Can’t possibly go further without sustenance, so we share a romantic Coke between the 3 of us. After finding out Hawthorn and the Roosters won, we set off again for home. I walked in the door, took off my shoes and knicks and lay on the floor for a good 20mins. I don’t think I have ever been that shattered and I’ve done some pretty crazy things.

Great riding all of you. Even those who made It to Newcastle – 160km is a massive effort!

100km Audax Gorge Fest

4:30 is a horrible time for the alarm to go off a Saturday morning.

But once up (and after realising for the first day of winter, it actually wasn’t that cold), I started to get excited about the 100km Audax ride Michael, Graeme and I were signed up for.

In a dark street in Dee Why we gathered. Michael operating on minimal sleep, Micheal’s mate still a bit dazed, Boycey with a funny tummy after an early morning banana smoothie and Magoo running through last minute equipment checks, again, only to find my other rear light is broken. That makes 3 now. I think I am going to keep them all and when I have enough broken rear lights, make an artistic sculpture full of my deep seeded red blazed emotions and send it to the Museum of Modern Art.

I must mention how fab Boycey looked in his reflective strap. I tucked my yellow jacket away in my rear pocket, wrapping a token reflective band around my right bicep (obviously it only JUST fit). A tactic I somehow got away with. Off we went, keeping a moderate pace down Pittwater Rd. Annoyingly when the clearways are not in place, the bus lanes are spotted with parked cars, which kept the group switching lanes right into Mona Vale. Beautiful morning over Church Point, albeit with a strange red sky in the distance.

Strangely I was comfortably seated climbing the hills on Pittwater and McCarrs Creek Rd, while the Audaxians around me were out of their seats and pushing. I found it quite easy to catch then on the steeper climbs too – San Martin Drive to the West Head turnoff and Akuna Bay gave me opportunity to pass many who had passed me when I dropped my chain just after Loquat Valley. Then again, they go for 600km while I certainly do not. Got me thinking a bit about technique, approach and consistency though…

I was accompanied up the Akuna Climb by a guy who talks more than Me and Ravi combined. Nice enough, but I decided to stop at the top, wait for Graeme and see if I could find the remainder of the ear he chewed off. With ear in place and Graeme only a few minutes back, we set off again for Bobbo, passing the likes of PD, Cathie AND HERB on the way. Managed to confuse the poor newsagent at the North Turramurra checkpoint with our brevet cards, but other than that, a nice clean roll to the next climb.

The Mt Colah side of Bobbo delivered on its well established promise of punching you in the guts every now and again and falsely convincing you that you are almost there. And then 50m from the summit, it calls you fat. Boycey and I sat on the wheel of a few guys (who knew Admin actually – one named Andrew said you stalk him and play sniper on his segment times?) for a while. I hit the front, trying to give a little wheel back, but with no takers. We ventured on alone, doing a nice little turn at the railway bridge and heading back.

Alas, the Turramurra side of Bobbo was, as always, slightly more forgiving. Graeme had also just had a sugar injection, so I found myself chasing him up. The tap at the entrance to the Sphinx car park is useless, so we made a stopover at Graeme’s house to grab some more water (and for me to run in to his “Newcastle” daughter, who for the record, is very lovely!). On the road again, counting down the hills (big or small) until the end. Stopped at the 52nd red light (OMG we got them all) and TWANG! Graeme’s spoke snapped clean in half. Damage done, but not enough to stop him continuing on.

Once at Warringah Rd x Willandra Rd, the roll home was within reach. A bit of local knowledge meant I could fly through Narraweena with confidence and sneak up on the Dee Why Bike Hub from behind utilising a hardly ever utilised 1-way road (Magoo Ninja Teachings). Very happy to have our brevet cards signed off, Graeme and I headed off in our separate directions, another job well done and all before lunch time.



P.S > Lemming? No show? After you spent all that time calling me soft and leading me to declare myself as a twatwaffle?

Saturday Spin

Who: Blue Stratos, Pink Stratos, Simon, Simon’s Brother Paul, Magoo, Fore

Where: St Ives > Allambie Rd > Manly > North Head > Reverse Fluffer > Church Point > Akuna > St Ives

After the fun we had last Saturday with the Easter Ride, and given I had a whole lot of Strava segments I needed to do for the second time, it was decided that the Manly/Church Pt ride should be held again this morning, afresh with some new faces and new challenges.

Challenge # 1: Getting there on time.

I was 10mins early! Simon and Paul rolled in soon after, followed by Fore. We rolled down Mona Vale Rd to the Wildstratos Gardens to meet the Tandem, only to find Blue had shot back home to grab extra rain gear. But we happily waited in the rain with Pink because that’s the type of people we are. Blue wasn’t far off. Did I mention I was early?

Challenge # 2: Keeping up with the Tandem.

I am very pleased to have accompanied the tandem on its longest ride ever! True to form, Stratos2  flew past us on the descents and flats. Proving that 4 legs are better than 2, it also managed its way up that hill in Manly (leading up to the hospital, conveniently perhaps) and up McCarrs Creek road. People all over the Northern Beaches were fascinated.

Challenge # 3: Staying Dry.

As luck always has it, after 2mins of rolling, it bucketed. Fore’s gilet went a little see-through. But the rain passed and we managed to get all the way to Narrabeen without it raining again. A little shower was not enough to wash away our enthusiasm (and desire for coffee), and by the time we were drinking said coffee at Church Point, the sun was out. Considering the weather recently and the forecast, I think we did well to stay as dry as we did.

Challenge # 4: Allambie Rd

Alex loves to join our rides, but only “fore” a while (HAHA DAD JOKE!). We said our goodbyes at the bottom of Allambie, when he proceeded to turn around and climb right back up. Respect bro and we do love the way you drop in J

 Challenge # 5: Finding a Bandicoot.

Despite the 17 road signs stating that I should watch for Bandicoots, I still haven’t seen one at North Head. Not even a dead one. Maybe next time. However we did find out that the Stratos Backyard has lots of them. Did you know Bandicoots carry ticks and that if you have free range chickens, they will eat the ticks and your cat or dog is 90% less likely to get a tick? True story.


 Challenge # 6: Pancakes and Chicken Nuggets

“Sorry, your pancakes are coming, they are just in the oven.”

Excuse me? What? Who makes pancakes in the oven??!

But they looked pretty damn nice when they finally did come (food envy) and watching Blue and Pink share them, ala Lady and the Tramp with the spaghetti, was very cute.

Also – if you see Simon or Paul reach into their jersey pockets for chicken nuggets, don’t question it. Just get ready for them to take off at great speed.


Challenge # ₓⁿ : The Phenomenon that is the “Magoo”

I didn’t crash or have an OHS defined “Near Miss”! But I did decide that I wanted to flog myself up Akuna while the others shot back home to pre-existing commitments. After parting ways, I was enjoying some good old Briony time until half way up the Reverse Akuna climb I hear the familiar (that’s just sad) sound of my rear deflating (haha that’s what happened to it! SNAP). Upon closer inspection I found a small stone had taken upon itself to infiltrate my tyre through an existing hole, like James Bond sneaking into a snowed under castle in the alps and anonymously breezing through the party of an evil Russian multimillionaire.

Because I’m awesome I fixed it, but my canister-valve-connecting-thing isn’t as awesome as me and I headed off for another 2km with a half-inflated tyre after it spewed more co2 on the valve than in the tube. Resorting to damsel in distress tactics, I flagged down another cyclist (quite a good looking one actually – WIN) who topped me up. Good to go. Until another sound starts to bother me. My rear wheel wasn’t spinning freely, but my brakes were not rubbing. After taking off the wheel completely I managed to magically fix it, but covered myself in grease in the process. I even somehow had a grease moustache.


Awesome ride all in all. If you haven’t done it, you need to.

Hit me up, yo.


ER Easter Saturday Ride

Who: Drastic, WBA, Admin, B1/c, VD, SatNav, Finchy, Schleck, Mike, Dragon and Magoo

Where: Pattinsons > Forest Way > Allambie Rd > Manly > North Head > Manly (Breakfast) > Reverse Fluffer > Church Point > Akuna > Pattinsons > Home

After 130kms of the Ettalong Gettalong yesterday, I spent the night resting and stretching in preparation for the ER Easter Ride this morning. In true Magoo Easter Weekend form, there were again some “issues” with the start time. Got up at 5 to stretch, have some food, triple check tyre pressure (yep Comet, I have a floor pump), check tyre pressure again and get to the meeting point 20 mins early. Turns out the calendar event was listed for 6 (not 6:30 as per emails) and I was actually 10 mins late for my own ride. SKILLS! We quickly sent a text to Chris (B1) who also working for 0630, agreeing that he would meet us at Manly.

We set out along Mona Vale Rd, shepherding Dragon who was having some light issues. Now, I don’t like to be predictable, so the theme of today’s ride was very ad-hoc in terms of navigation. Burke and Wills didn’t know much about where they were going, but they had fun along the way (well until they died I guess). We turned down Forest Way, got a little bit flogged by Drastic and Mike (must have been hungry) and FLEW down Allambie and into Manly.

Almost had a Magoo moment at a crossing – Finchy stopped for a pedestrian that I didn’t see. Having been very close to his wheel, I was presented with an excellent opportunity to practice my ice skating routine, much to the appreciation of Schleck, who might I add, was wearing a superb jersey today. Top marks from self-appointed CFO (Chief Fashion Officer) to him, as well as Finchy (sleek in black) and for the high occurrence of Egg and Tomato.

On the subject of fashion, Chris, was that, or was that not, the same jersey and knicks as yesterday? You didn’t seem to smell so either you didn’t need to sweat yesterday (possible) or you managed to wash yesterday arvo (while Goaders was sleeping) (probable). A hot lap of North Head was completed, with the group somehow splitting into 3. Some stuck to the road, some went on the path to the lookout and I guess Drastic and others hid in the bushes, because God knows how we missed them? Anyway, on to Manly.

Breakfast. After giving the “Scruffy Little Mutt” cafe a miss (we determined it to be too posh), we ended up at Bluewater Cafe. After the Barista had his glass of milk (??), we ordered some coffees and Admin ordered his “bacon and egg thing”. Not wanting to be too far from our steeds, we moved outside and started to move some tables around until Satan’s Blonde Step Daughter came and told us we couldn’t do that. We also couldn’t touch the sign, pay separately and assumingly, couldn’t go to the bathroom without asking her permission. Lucky some of the boys managed to charm the nice British girl, and given we are still alive, it seems they didn’t poison our coffee after all. (Hands up straight if you want an egg and bacon roll!)

So off we set again, trying to follow the reverse flutter (mostly we did OK!). Finchy started stressing as we ran into an RBT – lucky they let him through without doing the drugs test. But not to worry, he gave a Urine Sample to some bushes just off Pittwater Rd at Narrabeen, while still managing to remain on his bike. This man is Impressive!!

Up Church Point we went, with the likes of Schleck, Finchy and Co hammering forward. Many added Akuna Bay to the ride. I still don’t know why I was so quick to say yes to that idea, or why I thought it was a great idea to attack Admin and WBA half way up. It left a feeling of pins and needles where my legs were meant to be. But onwards we rode, like the legends we are, to St Ives cycling heartland. More coffees and some hot cross buns ordered at the regroup point (Pattinsons), as well as a chance to meet Finchy’s youngster (very cute). From this point we went our own way, with Admin and I (Team Princes St) riding down to the gates at Bobbin Head (amongst a few other detours) to get our 100 km for the morning.

Overall a fantastic ride with a fantastic group, apologies for the start time incident again.

If you want to buy me a watch, there is a Cartier one I have had my eye on!


Dawn at North Head with the sun appearing out of Van Diemen’s ear

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The view towards the city which Sat Nav would have seen if he’d bothered to leave the main road

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Drastic Hiding in the bushes

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