| Woodys Murray to Moine 2002 |
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Epic Bandido Rides for Charity :- Well well well
what an event eh Warrabah Bandidos? To think they called it a relay. Take it easy
boys...Pace yourselves.... Its not a race Pah ! We know better
now. If theres a bike
involved then its ALWAYS a race. If Ricardo is
about. Its always a race. If Leon says
"My leg is sore. The cruciate is emitting pain excruiciate". Its a trick. Dont
believe him...That Fox was born to race Does PB ride
slowly? Impossible. Are the Kennedies gun shy? It has to be a race Is our president
shy and retiring? Does the prescence of nubile company spur him. You Betcha. It is most
definitely a race. A race to the finish. And Glory. For the medalions. And to sledge and
lay it all over the opposition. We won, you
lost. You woesy bunch of pink little girlie blouses. Read below for
details on one of the all time Bandido Classic Chapters THE STATS For the
onlookers, the wannabees and could have beens, the matter underlying the myth, :- Total Distance :
270km peddled out of 530km total distance Average Speed :
35.0 km (to be verified by El Scrib) Height climbed :
ok, maybe a thou Time Taken :
(either hammering on bike or recovering in bus) 16 hours Water
Consumption (per rider) : about 20 bottles Food Consumption
: 3 cans creamed rice, 3 x 4 sandwitches, 20 bananas, 3 leppins (excluding meals at the
motel) PREAMBLE Training and
condition has now become verse and chapter of "The Bandido Way" We all know that
the World Champs are a scarce 6 months away and the big guns are oiling their weapons. We
all know that secret training abounds. With hooded figures doing their Crit training up
dark alleys and even underground in sewers. There has been reports of secret puchases of
high end trainers and motivation tapes. And the muffled sounds of hyperventilation and
grande esfuerzo from sheds converted to training gymnasiums. Howls at the full moon late
at night. While testy wifes wonder who is the Thunder Thighed Werewolf that used to be
their husband. But we know all
that stuff. What still amazes the scribe is a certain members intransigence to "The
Way" Still trying to
use alcohol as a stimilant. Locked in the belief that it is a subsitute for caffeine. Still hopeful
that some wizard will invent an alcoholic beverage that stimulates muscle and
cardiovascular development. ...Will someone
please tell the president that you cant fake fitness. And so it came
to pass that the 10 hearty cycling souls and 4 fabulous backup crew headed off from
Yarrabah School to Mildura. By Yarrabah School Bus. This turned out to be a bum numbing
experience of 6 hours duration. We were entertained by school yard banter and boasting. Of
great accomplishments both past and imagined. By glories yet to be attained. And gleaming
trophies still unseen. Harrumph !! 2
members took the easy way out. They even had Quantas phone them to request wether they
could close the Quantas Club before they arrived. Grovel grovel. Such one upmanningful
piking is absolutely discraceful. But we had to agree it was smart. They shall remain
nameless but SB and RS, we know who you are... En route at land
level, Lattees were consumed wherever possible and Mildura attained by 4pm. Bikes and kits
unpacked and installed in most sumptious motel accomodation. Tea was partaken with beer
predominating and some steak and salad for roughage. We were then
unwittingly coerced to take a "gentle stroll" down the road by Al and PB. Into town. Just
down the road fellas. Good for the digestion... Well I must
report that 2 members got blistered feet from that saunter. PB hammered down
the road and we strugggled to keep up. We dipped our
sweating brows into The Murray and chased down some ice creams to dampen the fever before
returning at a sole destroying speed. THE RIDE A glinting blue
metallic day greeted our battle clad emergence for autographs and photos. Mildura now a
flood of multicoloured treddlies. I did a recce of the opposition. What an array of
talent! There was the full spectrum. From the gym jumpered, footy shorted, shed rusty
Repcos, to the bulging taut lycrad rainbow Colnagos. Al Pres did an
inventory check...yep...still the most expensive bike in town. No need for another this
week. Then there was
the body language. We had the
confused look, the shifting eyes, the dropped shoulders and nervous itchy scratch of the
newly conscripted rider. We had the chins
up, stiff upper lips, too wide smiles, new helmets and hope my clothes arent too tight of
the wannabees. Then of course
the big hitters. Arms across puffed up chests, massive legs shaved and oiled, direct eye
contact, c'mon, i dare you to look down there - that isnt a sock stuffed in sonny. Ohhh yessss, we
have found "The Opposition" Its gonna be a
race for sure... The big guns
headed by John Someone (whose name i have forgotten and shall be henceforth named John the
Control Freak or John TCF) would make it worth their while by setting off 30 minutes
behind the bunch. In addition,
teams were also leaving from Swan Hill and Echuka. At Horsham, all
three thousand riders would converge. Who would be
there first, setting the pace? This question slowly asserted itself in the collective
competitive conciousness of the Yarabah Bandidos. We put our
Yarrabah buddies Dennis and Dave in for the start. This would get them settled and we
could figure out who had what sort of condition and how we could organise the legs. Twenty
K down the road, a whole bunch of Bandits jumped on. Get everyone blooded and keep them
from bouncing off the walls of the bus in their excitement. We peddled for
about 90 minutes and hauled up the lead group. Up front we surveyed the talent. No big
guns yet. No big hitters to start hammering and breaking up the pack. Easy goes it for the
first few hundred... After that first
stint, (which, in the merciless heat, was somewhat too long) we started using our groups. Learning No 1 gained. Be economical. Richard, Leon
Waz and Dennis wound it up and kept the lead pack going at about 33 clicks. If anyone
tired the strategy was to let them drift off and let them recover in the van rather than
slow the group. That was learning No 2. Waz and Dennis most grateful for the early
deduction of this strategy. The heat was
proving to be somewhat oppresive. Water had to be used to the max. For 1 hour of riding,
one to two bottles could be consumed with one additional for pouring into helmet and down
chest and back. (10 minutes later the lycra was dry again). Learning No 3. Learning No 4.
No food. No fuel. No where. (Refer to the stats above) At least another 2 bottles of water
required whilst in the van with a couple of sandwitches, bananas and a pasta/rice serving. Al, Phil, Steve
and Dave followed up. Also a good pace. Still keeping up with the lead group. John
Someones big hitters now reported to be eating up the road in large chunks. Our driver,
coach and mentor Bob repeated : This isnt a race guys. Those other boys are specially
selected and headed by the State Champion. Take it easy. Wait for them to catch you. Use
their strength to help you finish strong... Hmmm grrr... We cruised thru
Ouyen. To be fore ever known as Ooo Yen. Thanks for a new word on the map of Victoria
Leon. The team still
looking good. PB, Cossie,
Clive and Colin got on next, picked up the pack, notched up the speed and started to wield
the hammer... The Guns now 10 minutes behind... The changeovers
notched down to 25 km. And we started to get into the 37, 38 kmph zone. Learning No 5 :
Shorter legs mean faster speeds. Lascelles
knocked off, Hopetoun also history. Horsham now closer and the sun now losing its
strength. John Someones
Big Guns now no closer. The changeovers
were now very slick and we started to really motor. The Bandidos were now clear of
everyone. A lone pack of 3 to 4 riders charging towards the dusk. Into the present
tense we travelled... We hammer
through Warracknabean. Crowds now along the road to cheer our load group. We feel like a
Tour de France breakaway group and are now really pouring it on. Rotating every 2 or 3
minutes. Trying to keep our speed at 38 and above. The Big Someones
Nobodies are locked out at 8 minutes. Reports of their cursing at their inability to catch
us are being recieved over the radio. So its a race
after all. Lets get it on boys !! Its is now
sunset and the sky trurns from orange to scarlet. We are alone with the only the pace car
as company. We are now
absolutely flat out and only one or two riders are able to last the full stretch. Shreiks of pain
as cramp locked riders cant get off bikes at the end their stint. But thats ok.
We're cool. Its not a race, so its OK. Isnt
it ?!? The No No
Nobodies are still 8 minutes away. We swoop through Horsham. More crowds. More cheers.
Alez Alez !!! It is now dark
and the hammerings continue. And now a new challege presents itself. We now oberve 2 then
three teams leapfrogging to the front. Out of nowhere
red blinking tailights are appearing like fireflies from the bush. More like fairies
actually. Woesy little
gate crashing pooftahs. We brush them
aside. However one team
remains persistent. It appears that some other teams, although unable to match us for the
duration have some big hitters. So we hatch a
plan. Ricrado and El
Scrib being seasoned racers start take turns surging off the front. Forcing the chase. The
Scribe waits tucked at the back awaiting the moment. The surging
continues for 20km and slowly the challenges fade. Now is the moment... Waz sprints off
the back and splits the pack with the main opposition in pursuit. The gap is
closed and the rather weary remaining opposition is asking why the hot pace. To which the
reply is "because we like riding like this". One more sprint
and they are blown out the back door. Leon then chats
them up, they loose concentration, feel the cramps coming on and they are gone for good. Ricardo rejoins
Waz and we rotate until the end of the hour. Hamilton is now
25 away and the last leg draws the remaining strong men. PB, Brooksie, Colin and Phil are
off. The Big Nobodies
are now apon us. In desperation they have flung their entire team in a massive rotation to
haul us in and now it is really on !! The boys are now
in full flight. There are bike and lights all over the road as the surges start. The less
fit are spat out the back. We look on in amazement from our vehicle as the very hard yards
are gained. Where is the end? Where is the sprint zone? Whats our plan? Learning No 6 :
If you havent done this race before, in the night, it is very difficult to get there
first. Steve looks over his shoulder. The Nobodies are forming a train with their main
rider at the back? Its like a Saeco Le Tour in The Dark. Le Noir Tour. The Nobodies
make their move on the last hill (unknownst to us) and a savage battle ensures. Everyone
gives it their last gasp and even the Steve the Sprinting Supremo gets the wheel wobbling
death rattle at his last reserves are tapped. We come a very close second thanks to the
man with mirrors for glasses. I have never seen PB and Steve look as wasted as they were
at the finish. These boys are giants to be sure. Take that
Nobodies, not bad for novices eh ? (I must
congratulate them for their ability and the fact that they played it straight throughout
the race !!!) We shack up in a
motel in Hamilton before midnight and riders continue to pour in until 3am that morning. The next day was
a very pleasant 85km to Port Fairy via Byaduk, Macarthur and Orford. A take it easy tour
of the picturesque coastal ranges. We were mellow
and in good humour and averaged acreditable 35.9kmph. The pack worked
well and we got the Yarabah fellas to The Moine in good shape (apart from their
inexperienced butts) All in all, a
well paced ride with the first day slowly gaining tempo and excitement, followed by a day
of beauty with jokes and wisecracks abounding. THE
PROTAGONISTS Many bodies were
laid on the line in the course of duty and many aflicted by strange malladies and
outpourings. Here are some of the few : Ricardo A great honour
to have the Count Machiavelli out on a big tour. Pushing the pace and boosting the Av VO2
Max. Ricardo was the
secret weapon of Team #1. We used him like a tool applying him at will to break up attacks
and reduce lesser riders to tears. I must admit I got a bit wet around the eyes myself.
Perhaps it was an insect. Or perhaps its
Ricardo with his "hah I spit upon you. You mere mortal. You are nurthing! Crawl back
into your hole. And do not come back unless I call" Ricardos
affliction of the ride was on leg No 3 when his superhuman strength seeemed to fade and he
became rather quiet and human like. Almost the pet mascot he was. After that he came good
and shrieks of terror could be heard at the head of the pack as he beat pretenters around
the head, neck and shoulders. Stevie Wonder An almost
bottomless pit of talent is this man with the mirror glasses. I should call him Cool Hand
Luke but I already gave him a new name in the previous sentence. Wins the Team Player
award. Often observed at the back of the pack pushing Dave up the hills. We thought
encouragement by use of the index finger rather than the palm would exhort the hapless
Dave, but wonder boy kept it clean. Looked entirely huge, massive and overwhelming at the
sprint but was beaten something most closely approximating to a Ugandan Gorilla. Also observed to
be a man most proficient at using a mobile at all times on the ride. I must try that one
elbow on the knee whilst jamming the mobile into the earhole manoever. Steve was
afflicted by the death rattle close at the sprint. Disapointed that he didnt expire in his
effort to gain glory and similtaneously answer his mobile in the middle of the final
sprint, he also came good the next day and was outstanding in quips and jokes thereafter. El Scriborino Our Mentor. The
calm influence of El Scrib and his almost universal knowledge of all things bike like kept
us entertained both before, during and after the ride. We would be driving through what
looked like the Gobi Desert and Leon would remark "I raced there. A sweet little road
race back in 83" . Or we would pass through a town and he would muse "They used
to have a bitumen track that we raced on there when i was a teenager" An
encyclopaedia of history and experience. Awesome on the
road was El Scrib and kept Ricardo from killing me with his pace. So thanks for that El
Scrib. Leons highest
profile affliction was the rapid ejection of the creamed rice 35 minutes into the third
leg. Im glad to say i was ahead of him at that moment. Cossie Cossie was
certainly one of the strong men on this ride. Hammered without tiring. Well matched with
PB and Colin. He looked relaxed and was full of chirp. When it comes to hard yakka and
punishment, Cossie is in his element. No afflictions attended this man of steel. Al Presidente I am starting to
feel that Al is a machochist. When form and top condition are most urgently required The
Pres seems to relish pouring barrels of ale into his bod. Failing that, he will throw
himself off the bike and damage numerous appendages. This trip was no exeption. Al had
gone bush on Big Cahoona training and arrived at the race totally refreshed from a total
lack of training. Suffered on the first and second legs. But like a good red wine (that
must constantly inhabit his body) he mysetriously came good and was his old wise cracking
self. Nuggety Phil Nuggetty was
everywhere. Initiating. Organising. Cajopling. Reminding. He and Leon of course were
"The Ones Who Made It Happen" Without them there would have been no show. Amazed
us all with his new Tour De France enterprise. And then actually rode as well. All the
legs to boot. Nuggety was a
lather of sweat and suntan cream but otherwise unaflicted. Clive Of India The mystery man
was again at his most mysterious. Often appearing ill at ease off the bike, he would
mount...poof !! ...and be gone!!!. Often seen smiling and whooping it up at the head of
the pack, the Pinnarello Man was certainly a sight to behold. Unaflicted in any way.
Unbelievabale !! PB The Punisher The Punisher
rode around smiting at will. Was happiest when the pace was at its hottest. Had to be
carefully managed from becoming too bored. Its not easy when there are no big mountains.
Grampians? Where? You just rode over them PB. Oh. Bugger. PB eventually
lost patience with us on the second day and dotted out over the feilds of green. He
complained of being at the back of the pack when all the best jokes, capers and sledges
were in progress. I think the heat got him. I can imagine him seeing bottles of Cascade
sprinkled with ice and covered in condensation. With the pssshhht of the top coming off
and that lovely amber fluid pouring into a frosty glass and the waves breaking over the
Port Fairy beach. Too much for any superman to resist... The Oracle The oracle
suffered a fit of galactic stupidity over the ride. Here are a few stellar pearlers : - lost his
wallet about 2 hours into the trip - flooded the
motel bathroom, bedroom and hallway when he forgot how taps worked - gashed his
finger trying to get his (plastic) water bottle filled - bruised his
crutch on the crossbar in trying to get to a bushy loo in a hurry - tried to ride
off on a stage whilst still wearing his track shoes - forgot to
bring lights for his bike - forgot to take
food along for the final 75km - blew trying to
ride his bike with the brake on - nearly fell
off the bike on day two doing an emergency stop with one hand on the bars (Im too
embarrassed to continue...) Ride was good. Disability
suffered was a some reflux after eating too much during a break - otherwise good Dennis Dennis was one
of your Yarrabah Virgins. Had taken ONE training ride. Looked very happy and confident
standing next his shining bike. Resplendent in lycra and his pointy cleated shoes, surely
anything was going to be possible.... We looked at him
with sympathy. That poor body of his was about to endure a physical pounding
enprecedented. He took the
torture well. Chewed on rope to muffle his screams of pain and wisely sat out the night
rides. Denis affliction
of the ride was, well, there was the neuromusculoskeletal system outage, the digestive
ruptures and the endocrine surges... Ummm, i should
summarise this as his whole body really. Which rose up as one and demanded that he fall
down until it had trained itself properly. Dennis, I must
admit, for a non cyclist, is a man well endowed with leg speed and he became a veritable
egg beater on the bike. And as for those
lycra pants on day 2. Aloha Hawaai with a dash of nachos from Mexico. Hee hah Ariba Dennis
!! Dave Most impressive
rider on the M2M. No doubt. Had laid down some training so was not totally jelly like. I
thought he would last 3 rides and then would
be a full stop. Like that. Boy was I wrong.
Davey rode all the legs. Thanks to Stevie Wonder (Onga helping Davey, doesnt make
sense?!?), did not fall off the back. He is definitely made of the right stuff this
fellow. If he trained he would be a demon. Affliction of
the ride was the legs : without cleats those quads must have been in agony Colin I wasnt quite
sure who or what Colin was. Understood to be the ring in. Had the right type of legs.
Shaven too. So all that was good. Leons old, and
our new mate was solid as a rock. Did not crumble under pressure. Did not weep when
squeezed. Remained 3 dimensional under the blow torch. Suffered no
disabilities and showed no weakness during the trip. If we can get
the boy a pair of Bandit top n togs, we'll be laughing. COMMENT OF
THE DAY Heard from the
St Kilda boys at the Yacht Club, regarding a colleage who got well and truly done over on
the ride: "We thought
we'd leave him out there for another hour to work on his sun tan" THE FACILITIES The facilities
and support were absolutely outstanding and the best ever. The tops are
really top drawer. Many thanks Leon and Phil. Bob was
outstanding as our leader, driver, sage, bike stager and tactician. Judith
oustanding organising food and beverage and being cheerful under huge pressure during the
journey Judy, also
fantastic as above and giga thanks for looking after my bike Maggie kept us
entertained by performing many of the above roles as well as massuese, and queen of the
inebriation sprints. Dave Lean who
helped the birth of this ride and especially for his lift back home in Holden luxury. Pauline Musgrave
for all her support and generosity. THE POST RIDE
WRAP UP The wrap up was
conducted at the Port Fairy Yacht club. A few of us gay boys managed to procure the female
showers and play some find the soap bar. I must admit the ladies were somewhat pertrurbed
to find us there but we took them in our stride. A few
anaethetising beers were chased down by a sumptious steak and salad lunch with a glorious
fruit salad. And the refreshed with more ale for balance. GUEST RIDERS AND
CELEBRITIES The All Trails
Macdonalds were spotted along with others from The Challenge. There were
famous others but names escape me. Lance wasnt
there. . For the Bandits Mega site : http://www.baysidebandidos.com Click on the images below…(they will be added to later) |
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