Perth-Albany-Perth 2014 – Day 2

The time is 4:00am, and I’m awaken by one of the volunteers with a gentle nudge. Before going to bed, each of us is required to tell the vollies what time we wish to wake up. The use of personal alarm clock is not allowed, obviously. An hour is all I take to get back on the bike. Again, it’ll probably be much quicker if I get to extend my right arm fully and painlessly. Right before I got on the bike, I bump into fellow Queensland rider Chris E. I have not seen him since leaving Perth. Chris arrived here at Nannup last night at 11:30pm and isn’t feeling great. I should be thankful I got 5 hours of sleep, it’s still not enough but that is all I can afford. I wonder how many PAPers actually got the full 8 hours sleep last night. Meanwhile, the ones who got the least amount of sleep are probably not the slowest riders but the vollies! I went to bed and woke up seeing the same people sitting behind the desk tirelessly answering queries and offering assistance to riders.

Today’s ride is a huge one. The distance to Albany is 322km but the first 200km is all hilly. With seemingly endless undulations, the journey to Pemberton is unsurprisingly snail-paced. Lots of gear shifting work required as my speed oscillates between 10 and 40km/h. On the positive side, no need to worry about navigation as there is only one road to follow. A band of pretty yellow wild flowers can be seen lining both sides of the road which makes good distraction. This is also one of the few occasions that I wish I was on a road bike. Being much lighter and the ability to ride standing to overcome these short steep climbs would be beneficial. Usually recumbents are pretty good at handling rollers, but the distance between the peaks is just a tad too long to carry on the momentum.

Pemberton is the second sleep checkpoint option for the first night. I doubt many riders nominated this as one would have to ride 442km to get here from Perth. Seeing how hilly the terrain is from Nannup to Pemberton, I’m glad I didn’t pick this sleep option. I know a few Queenslanders who did and wonder how they got on last night. Approaching Pemberton, an awesome long descent welcomes us to this beautiful sawmill town. This being a sleep checkpoint, full-fledge breakfast is served, and I happily gobble down whatever food given to me. Mostly pasta, cheese, and bread. Pick up some protein balls for the road too. I was told they’re good, it’s homemade and a specialty of Audax WA division. Just before leaving Pemberton, Mark and Errol arrived. Errol made a shocking announcement that he has pulled out! Looking visibly disappointed, he said that his body couldn’t handle the pain anymore. Completely understandable. I made no mention of any body aches so far, but doesn’t mean there weren’t any. I have an ongoing Achilles tendonitis on my left foot since I did my first 300km ride a year ago which I never seem to be able to shake it off completely. The pain usually kicks in at about 300km mark, but for this ride, it only becomes apparent this morning. I don’t know how much longer I can hold the pain as it will only become worse with more pedalling. There is a limit to how much the human body can endure pain. After all, we are merely a bunch of ordinary folks attempting something extraordinary. With an experienced randonneur like Errol out of the game, I begin to have doubts about my own ability and feeling a bit daunting.

After the long climb out of Pemberton town, the remaining roads to Shannon River checkpoint is pretty much the same deal, hills and more hills. There are however, a few pockets of happiness (read flat road) so I make the most out of them. I have fond memories of camping at Shannon National Park. While riding on this very same road 3 years ago, in the early winter month, I stumbled upon and spent a night in a tiny wooden hut complete with a pot belly fireplace which kept me toasty warm and dry. Right before the left turn to the checkpoint, there was a right turn with a campsite sign and I can instantly recognise that this road leads to the amazing wooden hut. A bit bitter that I don’t get to revisit this treasure campsite, but promise myself to return one day. Although the checkpoint is nothing like the campsite, it makes a great stop where we got to enjoy our meals sitting on a log in the middle of the woods. Not to mention the sleep tent setup for the vollies looks extremely tempting. At this checkpoint, Geoff updates us that the next checkpoint Walpole will see an end to all these undulations, and that we are already 2/3 done with it. This makes me smile and lift my spirit.

We have broke into the 500km mark at this point. Having not completed any multi-day Audax rides, not even a 600, the second day is all uncharted waters for me. So this is quite a significant personal milestone. A long stretch of mild descent bump my speed up but right after this descent, comes a surprisingly long 5% climb. At a distance, I spotted a rider getting off his bike looking rather frustrated, and then stood leaning on his bike looking visibly upset. Ross C is having a mechanical nightmare on his road bike. His rear derailleur is broken and causes the hanger to bend 45 degrees! There isn’t much we can do, I suggest converting it to a single-speed by removing the derailleur and shortening the chain, although neither of us are hopeful. We are only 10km to the Walpole checkpoint so I hurry to the checkpoint to notify support about Ross’s situation. The support crew is now aware of Ross’s trouble but decide to allow some time before attending to him. The pseudo single-speed configuration somewhat worked as it brought him to Walpole checkpoint (long after I left) but sadly he only got as far as 7km after leaving Walpole before the drivetrain fails again. Poor Ross, this is one very unlucky DNF.

A chance encounter with Brian as he was about to leave Walpole checkpoint. Brian asked about Chris E, but neither of us have seen nor heard from him since Nannup. Hope he’s doing alright. Left Walpole at 3:30pm, and with only 125km left to Albany, I am looking forward to arrive Albany well before midnight. I was promised flat terrain from Walpole onwards, but I foolishly forgot the definition of flat in the Audax dictionary. Although the undulations is mild compared to what we went through this morning, the effect on my legs is accumulative and they’re really starting to wear me out. A 5% climb now feels like 10%. My legs just aren’t generating as much power as before. This isn’t subjective as I’ve been monitoring my power output from my PowerTap hub. I can no longer maintain a 200W effort for any longer than 10 seconds. My legs just couldn’t do it. Have I reach my endurance limit? If not, I must be goddamn near! Riding pass the 600km mark, the setting sun becomes my only glimmer of hope. I’d like to think that I’m a better rider at night, although tonight might prove me wrong. I arrive at Denmark in the astronomical twilight and in the worst of my body condition. The first thing I see when I arrive at Denmark checkpoint is a big sign that says “Ross the Flying Scotsman” held by presumably Ross’s parents. I don’t know if they are aware of what happened to Ross C, but I’d be extremely touched seeing my parents come down all the way to cheer on me.

The Denmark checkpoint goes down in my memory as the checkpoint of torture. Not in reference to the support which was excellent as always, but in reference to the immense soreness on my body when I got off the bike. For the first time riding a high racer I have a butt sore, I don’t even know it’s possible to get a butt sore riding a recumbent! As I set both my feet on the ground, burdening them with my body weight, both my Achilles tendons feel like they’re burning! I knew my ibuprofen tablets would come in handy. I take an extended rest at this checkpoint. My vision starts to get a bit blurry, it’s a sign that I must hurry and get to bed soon. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t had any thoughts of pulling out. But this time I’m seriously considering of doing it, not here in Denmark but when I get to Albany. The plan now is to get to Albany, have a few hours sleep and then see how my body feels when I wake up before deciding if I should pull the trigger.

With the thought that this next section of 60km to Albany may possibly be my final run of PAP, I give it my all, and ride in the best form I can manage given my current state. If I can no longer ride hard, I can at least still ride smart. I keep a close watch on my power output to ensure smooth pedalling and minimal deviation as the terrain changes, while also maintaining a consistent cadence with regular shifting. The increased cognitive processing also helps to keep me alert and away from absent-mindedly fixating on the road like one would do in a long drive (it’s dangerous and can lead to a very ugly outcome). The motivation is simple, to quote Martin’s words “I only have to ride as far as the next checkpoint”, and that is all that matters.

The terrain finally becomes flat which is a big relief but riding in the dark, you never know when the terrain is going to change until you get to it. My average speed gets a bump up, and I see myself passing a small number of (tired) PAPers. Soon I see a cluster of white LEDs from my mirror, seems to be approaching at a slightly faster pace than I’m at. There’s probably about 5 or 6 riders and they form a paceline. Perfect! I’ll be catching this “train” all the way to Albany! With 40km left still, I slow down, let them pass, and shamelessly hang onto the back of a group of Audax Victoria riders led by Sarah C, whom I later found out referred to as the Mother Teresa of Audax Australia, given her experience and contributions in the club. It’s such a relief to be sitting in the streamline, both psychologically and physiologically. I didn’t have any time at the front, and I feel guilty about that but as much as I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to hold the group pace on my own, not to mention the reduced drafting benefit from a recumbent.

We got in to Albany sleep checkpoint (687km) at around 10:00pm, after a surprising and ridiculously steep climb up to our accommodation building. The entire city sits on a slope. It didn’t just end there, once we had our dinner, we had to walk up multiple flights of stairs (I stopped counting at 10) while carrying our belongings to get to our bedrooms. The nice thing about this accommodation is that each rider gets his/her own room. But the sleeping arrangement is such that the earliest who arrives gets the bedroom on the first floor, and the last rider gets the bedroom on the highest floor. Yeah that’s right, punish all them slow riders! At dinner, I got to chat briefly with one of the PAP photographers Steve K. No we didn’t talk about photography, instead he is saying that I should be relief that I made it to Albany as most PAP riders who quit in the past events did so on day 2 as this is the toughest day, being the most hilly day. “The worst is over now” said Steve.

It’s amazing how those words are so simple yet means a world to a cyclist on the verge of quitting. I see some hope now. Tomorrow will be a brand new day, and I’ll be riding somewhere new, and there will be much to see and explore. I’m looking forward to riding once again.