Murray to Moyne 2003

The Battle of the Mallee Scrub

Greetings again dear comrades, and yes, it has happened, another legend is inscribed in the Book of Battles, of pages lined with gold, dripping with blood and sweat. And the names of many brave hearts inscribed forever.

One must of course recall the value that we hold so dear to our bosoms, the memory and recollection, vision, dream and ultimate illusion that a ride is never a race….

Why do we waste our time with this drivel ?!?

It will always be a race, as our beloved and now almost completely expired president (now braced for attention from his sick bed) said so recently…in the words of the great Bernard Hino "While I breathe, I ATTACK" …I think we should just quietly do away with the rest of the sayings and come out, admit it for once and for all,

We live to race. It is no less than the salve we need to manage the mid life crisis and for those younger and less aware of the crises that attend one : look at it this way…"Feeling stressed? Life no longer has any meaning? Boy/Girlfriend just left you for another life form? Well then get out there, ATTACK, and ride yourself into the ground. You’ll feel so much better for it. Ask Al Pres…he knows…

THE STATS

Day 1

Av speed - 31.9 kmph

Max speed - 53 kmph

Dist - 143 km

Wind speed - 15 gusting to 25 knots

Day 2

Av speed - 28 kmph

Max speed - 56.1 kmph

Dist - 88.7 km

Wind speed - 10 gusting to 15 knots

Duration - 7hrs 44mins

Overall

Total dist - 231.7 km

Av speed - 30.1 kmph

TEAMS (sorted by current form)

Team 1 : Al Pres, Sergei, Denis and Cossie

Team 2 : Hamster, PetrusBob, Wazza and JR

Team 3 : Fitzy, PB and Kiwi

THE PREAMBLE

On the dawn of Friday, the core assembled and took the low road to Mildura via Bendigo. After a tummy growling debate we made 2 primary assaults on the indigenous restuaranteers. First was Daylesford and we consumed their strategic stockpile of Coffee beans, muffins and quiche. The cappuccino foam was of designer quality and the food lovingly crafted in the homemade fashion. The No 2 spot at Charlton delivered pies, pizza and vanilla slice. And unwittingly, the seeds to Kiwis demise…

The Bandido front line finally pitched tent on Mildura’s motel mile. The traditional meal of steak, bangers, tom sauce was expertly merged with a seductive blend of traditional ale and claret. A meal to suit the warriors of old.

We had the usual mission impossible time trial down to the ice cream shop in downtown Mildura. I can report this year that the distance is 4 kilometers each way and consumes 29 city blocks . We covered this at a sole destroying pace. (I used that phrase last year, but it probably deserves another Guernsey) The main protagonist of course was The Punisher. He awarded himself the first laugh.

The next day we immersed ourselves in Rider City. The formerly known area of Mildura became a sea of lycra. This year we perceived the intrusion of officialdom, or what I affectionately call the Process Secret Police. We now have 10 pages of rules. But we do have a safer ride. There was also the Marshall’s reiterated threats for riders to ride rather than race. We all correspondingly presented a mixture of deadpan and over sympathetic faces. Right. No problem. So its not a race. Good. Fine. We knew that. No problemo hombre.

As fate would decree, we started first…I think we may have been noticed last year.

It was a staged start and riders soon started to spread apart. The Bandidos were splendiferously represented by our two higher officers. Naturally I speak of Al Presidente and our senior non executive non existing non board member also going by the name of the artist formerly known as Sergei. Squinting our eyes against the dust storm developed by their turbulence we followed along….

Operations had started, we were watching the opening salvoes of Operation Mallee Scrub, live, on channel M2M.

Soon after we whipped through Hatah … then on to Ouyen.

But where was the action? Where were the enemy? Only the pace car lay before us. Sgt Major PetrusBob thought of commandeering a humvee with a rocket launcher …steady men steeeeadddy

Fortunately we were joined by a snotrocket called Alex, a farmers wife from Carremut !! Heck, out here in the country you find talent from the most obscure places.

The wind was none too gracious...blowing from the south east meant a head wind for the duration of the entire ride. We crouched lower and ignored the lament of the lumbar region.

Back in the reserves, post ride Bandidos were gaining succor in the No 2 Van. We discovered the pleasure of air conditioned feet by sticking them out of the window and then applying jets from the water bottle (AKA the Coolgardie sock) ...this was bewdyful and sensuous in the extreme... I almost forgot my lovely wife's name...

We’re cruising, all was cool…

Then the town called "Speed", so we did, then the town of Hopetown, then Warracknabeal … riding thru these outback towns are one of the best experiences ...at the head of the pack it felt reminiscent of being akin to a TDF breakaway

All afternoon the Bandidos rode on their own putting an increasing gap between ourselves and the rest of the field . The only exception being the Big Heart Big Hitters. However, we received reports that they had begun to lose time. Perhaps they had wasted themselves…only time would tell…

We had a turn where we got to too close to the pace car such that we were able to draft. We waited nervously for admonishment but none came. We adjusted our rotation to cater for the fact that it was easier to be in the front than the back.

Horsham whizzed past, the gateway to Hamilton was open and the pace increased ….All going well, we’re running smooth…where is the opposition ?

The afternoon departed and the setting sun covered us in alternate hues of amber, gold and finally crimson - the views of the land turning from lime and orange to black shadow…

We were now moving at a more serious pace. The town of Worwondah flashed by. Urgency rising….Crowds lining the street and providing a great lift. Yes, it was indeed gratifying to be at the front and to be something of a minor sensation.

Night moved in, we got a friendly admonishment from the pace car and stopped to attach our lighting systems. No big drama as we were miles ahead of any other team.

Our world turned from blue to black and our vision became punctuated by winking and sparkling lights. Some of us had 4 lights running. A red on the back of the bike, a spotlight on the front. A red winker on the back of the helmet and a yellow one on the front wheel.

Cherrypool town appeared out of the night like a sparkling oasis, blurred images of people standing outside pubs under street lights. Doppler cheers coming and going. Alez Alez

The hamlet of Woohlpooer is history…Still no sign…Where were the big hearts? Radio reports gave voice to them 5 minutes behind with 80 kilometers to go. A big ask for the Big Hearts. However we dealing with fellows long skilled in the art of cycling tactics and strategy

…still no sign…..

We were driving along following our team and suddenly they were there !!!

A van came past at 50 with 3 riders drafting it at high speed. These fellows were cunning to be sure …

In slow motion we watched them gather behind our hapless riders.

Suddenly a break down the right hand side and they were gone.

At that moment, the big guns in our van became instantly animated., Lead times were calculated. The break opened up to over 3 minutes.

Amazingly, the boys on the road fought back and as the rampant frothing pack of Fitzy, Kiwi and PB launched themselves, we had them 2 minutes ahead with 55km to go.

The final duel was on. Could we get em and then knockem off??

Our speeds now were into the 40’s as our main guns burnt their legs in pursuit. The final group of Wazza, PetrusBob, Hamster and JR waited anxiously for the final death thrash as the gap narrowed to 30 seconds.

The last satellite Cavendish greets the leaders flying by, a glowing pearl in the sea of midnight blue

Out of the warm van into the freezing blast of the southeaster , numb hands on equipment and Velcro straps, do I have everything, are the legs ok, all dark on the western front, we grip our cold metal frames and await the onslaught….

Then a glow on the horizon, the girls are on the radio…they’re coming get ready. The horizon starts to glow. Then flashing lights, it’s the pace car.

We get on our bikes, click one foot in, the pace car goes by, then the enemy, we listen for breathing and strain to perceive exertion. Are they tired ?

Where are our boys…. they’re here GO GO GO GOGOGO

Were coming with you …go guys go hard. Bugger me this is going to be a huge scrap.

We scream off. Death or glory 20km down the track into Hamilton…

Instantly we are hammering, bike flashers, headlights, chrome flashing, time has no meaning…

The big guns seem to zoom up, we are definitely going to get them. Phew, tired so early in the turn. We are now working about 3 notches up from where we were earlier. 5km to go.

We approach the big heart trailer, another 3 silhouettes launch from the spotlights, their final assault, bummer, they will be the biggest of the big hitters

Fitzy and co have recovered and the surges start. JR looking very frisky….he is up and down and all over …anything could happen…They follow but only to cover. Its too quiet…

Now they attack, but it seems to be in slow motion..we look for a second…is this a big one or a test…we go after them and haul them in …what’s next?

We hit a downhill section and suddenly our Petrus Bob the twice Tour de Tassie green jersey holder has decided we have to attack, most of us aren’t Crit riders, is this what Jaja would do? Are there any big hills for our hill climbers to attack, should we break with 2 riders and do a double attack ? So many questions but Petrus has decided we must answer now or never

He looks good and flashes past on the right, poised and standing up on the pedals ….the BHs respond sharply

There is a savage chase and they haul him in. Their lights are off…man these fellows are tricky…how many are sitting behind us in-between headlights. We try and sneak glances without looking worried.

We are starting to slow down…maybe we can just relax and have a one sided sprint at the end…it seems a tame way to end so I suck in a few big breaths

Im off, heck im going to look stupid if the chain breaks, no point in just swooping, I give it everything and cane past everyone down the middle, might as well blow up rather than wonder what if

My legs are whirring…I cant hear anyone, the headlights are getting further away. Im alone…

The pace car grows rapidly in my vision….get moving mate…move move move

But no luck, I have to slow down and stay behind the pace car ….and they get me…

What now? …Ah I’ll accelerate with the pace car when it starts trying to get away from all of us drafters…it happens but I don’t have the slingshot advantage and they are able to hang onto me ….where are Leon, Brooksie and the others ???

We ride into Hamilton, the final hill appears and the BHs commence to talk to us…?!?!?….is this psychological warfare? …No - a truce is requested in view of the final approach. We agree and wait for them to break it…

Amazingly we all stick together and after mutual cheers and handshakes we realize that’s its all over for the night. We have made it to Hamilton. In one piece and in shared good spirits.

A quick unpack, a shower and its zzzzzzzzzzz

A cold breezy drizzly dawn greeted us the next day. We sucked down brek, punched out supp and were down the road, many memories resuscitated from the previous evening

And, in keeping with the weather , Punctures abounded. First all, that shag on the rock of tire integrity al Presidente, followed by the mellifluous Fitzy ….all ending up like hobos on the wayside.

There was a complex of weaving thru traffic, slow riders and unskilled participants miscellaneous presenting a mass of road bound obstacles. It wasn’t easy, but we stuck at it.

Buyaduk North drifted by followed by Buyaduk South …PetrusBob, a son of Warrnambool, filled us in with his knowledge of local history and 2 wheeled legends ….here comes yorkies knob…it was the finish point for the local to port fairy centenary crit…when you’ve been dicing for 30miles, this little hump is a killer etc etc …. we went through Macarthur, allegedly the most boring town in Victoria if not the whole of Australia…those of us previously from NSW looked around in awe…

Suddenly a water tower appeared …an urban sign of great portent …then a 60 kmph speed sign heralding the burbs….then a tremendous greeting from the Port Fairy locals as we turned into the showgrounds. We’re here. "Thank God" our gluteus maximii groaned

We enjoyed the traditional lunch at PF Yacht club . The support team organized a view, seating, beers and lunch. Speeches , accolades, war stories and prize presentations (to all participants ) were awarded and greeted with great hilarity.

The thinkers were mobilized and effected the reorganization of transport following the demise of no 2 van.

Yep, we were another legend up

QUOTABLE QUOTES

"Hey, there’s a fellow riding like a Moto Guzzi"

(PetrusBob’s observations of a splay legged rider)

[Moto Guzzi is famous for their horizontal Vee twin motorbikes]

"They make Fabio Saachi look like a pretender"

(Hamster referring to a team that stuck a sponsors milk cartons on top of their heads)

[Fabio Saachi is one of the more trendy pro racers]

"Resuscitate me, Im utterly wasted"

(Kiwi at Mildura after food poisoning)

"Resuscitate me, Im utterly wasted"

(PB after doing the final 2 legs into Hamilton back to back)

"Resuscitate me, Im utterly wasted"

(Al Pres at Port Fairy Yacht Club)

THE PROTAGONISTS

Kiwi

On the dawn of race day we received a blow to the solar plexus ...our favorite red dotted son had painted the toilet with his stomach contents and was laid low. However, rumours of Kiwis demise proved to be greatly exaggerated …and he slowly clawed back from this low point to the high point at Hamilton race end.

Possessor of one of the most impressive power to weight ratios, Kiwi has also been gifted with a high performance pharynx which emits a Volcanic snoring sound late at night. Often I would awake lonely in the middle of the night, wondering where I was, to be reassured by the tectonic rattling of minibar bottles as Kiwi hit a resonant frequency.

Kiwi was a vigorous member of our elite team and pulled his weight in spite of the abdominal attack. Well done mate.

Petrus Bob

PetBob the brickie supremo performed so many roles I will have to be brief. Firstly he was the gear policeman, then strategist, the controller, the team coach and mentor, the derailleur gearing guru, the mathematical marvel quoting metric and imperial ratios and coefficients….we could have listened to him all night except for our heads spinning around like tops

Then we were witness to the bike from the dawn of time. You could have charged entrance money to view that machine. Then there was the woolen undergarmets from both of the great wars. Then there was Bobs unique bike light , a standard camping light strapped onto the headset with original foot clip leather straps….Folks, I lie not !!!!

If there was one work to describe Bob, and I better get in first, it was INCREDIBLE

He was also the Sergeant Major …he would be talking to me and his face would blur and morph into RSM Wilkins of the Light Infantry and I would have one of my army flash backs. Attenshun …. Preeesent BIKE. ... At ease Slater !!.

Hamster

Hamster was an encyclopedia of quips. I had loaded several of Shakespeare’s plays onto my Pocket PC. There was no need. Hamster was able to quote unassisted at will. It made an unusual sight sitting in the dark with the other lads out there putting on the pace whilst we looked for something memorable from Macbeth.

Hamster was solid. No flagging, no surging and killing us lesser fitnessed members, he played to our strengths. Good on you dude.

El Presidente

Al Pres was, well, Al Pres, first to order drinks, first to order the next round, loudest in the laffing department but, uncharacteristically, quiet in the ordering around and leadership. Al Pres did a fantastic handover to Cossie as the Capo de Primo Capo, and we all followed Cos’ out into the wind, the darkness and beyond.

Al Pres in being too busy to train, paradoxically found time to almost completely destroy himself on the bike. His back ached, his legs burnt…yeah yeah yeah we’ve heard it all before…. I think Im going to bring along a first aid kit and a cocaine drip the next big ride we do together.

Seriously AP looked good and played his part in the relays. Never held the members back on that long trip out to Hamilton. We wont mention the big blow up near Port Fairy. That wouldn’t be fair. But whilst on that note, get your training together AP !!! Speak to Fitzy.

Cossie

To our leader, our planner, our main man, we offer our most sincere thanks. Cossie you were great, you were keen, you were light of heart, you remained drip free under pressure. When we needed you, you were there. Next year Im gonna let you do it all and watch it on TV !!

Cos also rode well and look strong and untroubled the whole ride thru….just like last year. He was made for this race.

Thanks Cossie. !!

Sergei

Sergei has arrived ! That’s all I can say. This man was once only useful for parking a bike in the rain but he has come a long way. Looked good all the way thru and then just disappeared out of sight. These high fliers (he took the plane to Mildura) you’ve gotta watchem , they nod and empathise, emit many modest unworthy vibrations but when the flag foes down …BOOM, they’re gone , breathing and attacking in perfect synchronization.

It was great to have your moderated tones, wit and companionship on the ride Sir.

Denis

The man with the flaming helmet and the Jimi Hendrix bike from the 60s was there. It was only upstaged by Bobs pre age of motor transport machine.

He of the flaming head was magnifico, when the BHs attacked, Denis knew exactly what to do …. Breathing she is operational, hence counter attack is all systems go !! Great to ride with someone who has racing experience !!

JR

JR is a quiet fellow, he looks calm and contented, minds his own peace but is a man of strong convictions. Why ride slowly when you can ride fast? …puff puff ….why not indeed. …Ill give that further thought when I finish my rotation and apply the defibrillator

As mentioned, JR looked very toey and attacking when the big boys hit the front, I think he could be a fine Racing Dido. Pity he spends so much time in a yacht.

Well done JR, it was great seeing you on the bike in-between driving duties.

Fitzy

The silky smooth man from Corporate Land has landed. Fitzy has been in the doldrums for a while. The goals had been attained. Round the Bay done in splendid style. Our man drifted across all points of the compass. That is until the M2M hit his radar screen. We were then witness to the emergence of the new improved Fitzy. We have seen the birth of the macrobiotic, the soy, the low fat, the low glycaemic index and breads with names unpronounceable. We tittered and hissed from the sidelines but suddenly ...zoooom..... Fitzy had swept past the doubters and was back to his Sunday best whooping it up with Elvis and Co at the head of the pack. Fitzy is home, but it is a new improved Fitzy, the pillow has disappeared from the front of his lycra top and he has found new speed and verve on the Humphries Tower of Pain.

Fitzy you looked good and were rock solid. I suggest we have another Racing Dido crouching precociously in our midst.

PB

The legend that is the Punisher has been there done that but was back again to take his place with the speediest group in our team. From all reports he asserted himself and impressed again with his stamina and downright blatant chirpiness. Dug deep on the double stint into Hamilton and we were able to hide in his slipstream.

I have noticed another weak link in his Armour. His bike is acquiring more hardware bibs bobs and doobabs on every ride. Is there a length of tube that isn’t populated by yet another gadget? Someone tell him there isn’t a boxter six sitting down there between his legs !!!

Kerith

I must say it was a pity that Kerith didn’t have a ride but it was nonetheless most pleasant to have her at the helm in Van No 2. It meant we were always able to get some good intelligence whilst doing first phase gobbling recovery straight after a turn on the road. Its also very reassuring to have a rally driver drive us around country Victoria !!

Thanks for coming along Mrs. Smurff and keeping our spirits high with that cheeky smile of yours !!

Maggie

Maggie is one of our support vets. I always find this paradoxical in that she is a World Masters games medallist. The expert supporting the amateurs? And so humble too !! Thanks for coming and helping Maggie, I will always remember the back massage.

Judith

Judith is another of our support team. Without them we wouldn’t get halfway to Hamilton. The food was fabulous and we had heaps of different sandwiches, cereals, meusli bars, jelly beans, fruit (dried and fresh) , tea , coffee, creamed rice etc etc. And if you needed any help Judith and Co were only too willing to run around for one whilst doing all the other getting ready and putting away tasks at each group rotation. Thank you so much.

Wazza

The scribe had an absolutely magnificent ride. My favorite memories will be riding in the pitch dark with the stars above, our shadows running ahead of us from the lights of the support cars, glimpses of flailing legs and flashing derailleurs in my spotlight.

I will always remember the smooth cadence and harmony of action riding in time trial formation towards the setting sun through the cheering towns of country Victoria.

FOOTNOTE :

I would like to additionally thank Pauline for her cheerful smiles, vision, interest and support since the inception of the Yarrabah Bandidos. May she have a happy retirement and we hope she will keep in touch.

Many thanks proffered to Dave Lean for his help and profuse praise to Trevor Browning for making us famous in the papers and making my neighborhood fund raising so much more effective !!

Long life to the Bandidos !