With a reef to the reef

Today the predicted light airs turned out to be a funny sort of day with gusts up to 20 knots and lulls below 10.  I hadn't taken Peregrina out for a while, so on the basis of the forecast I decided today was a good day.

Its amazing how quickly one gets out of practice.  Or maybe I was just rubbish today.  Seemed like a real slog to pull the boat down to the launch spot - perhaps the fact that the trolley tyres had no discernable pressure in them might have had something to do with that.  When I got down there I discovered that I had left the sails, and the lock for the trolley behind. Anne kindly brought them down to me, while I fiddled around rigging the boat.  Only took three tries to get the mast right and the stays untangled.

Some good gusts were coming through while I was rigging, so I thought today would be a good day to try out the mainsail reefing - a January project in which I was much assisted by the New Mirror Dhinghy Discussion Forum http://forum.mirrordiscussforum.org/node/475 .

I headed off with the full jib and the reef in, and once I was out there I was glad I had done so.  I am very pleased with the reef - it sets very nicely, ties up neatly, and makes everything a bit more relaxing.  Without the reef I would have been hiking out on the gunwale with white knuckles a fair bit today.  Instead I was able to sit in comfortably.  The helm with full jib and reefed main doesn't seem that different to normal rig.

I didn't go that far - out past the Altona reef and back. For an experiment I dropped the jib as well.   Looking at the gps, I see I was scooting along around 3.5 to 4 knots most of the time, which is plenty for me.

All in all, a good experiment and a good learning experience. A check list might be in order, as well as pumping the tyres on the cart more often.

Day sail to Point Cook 1st February 2017

Today's forecast was for relatively light winds, so I took Peregrina my Mirror Dinghy out.   She lives on a fairly basic wooden dolly, and I pull her along down to the Altona Yacht Club ramp which is now the closest launching spot.  This causes much amusement and sometimes consternation to passers by.  A chap this afternoon pulled over in his large 4wd, towing an even larger boat, to tell me: "You should save up and buy a car" . The boat weighs in around 60 kilograms so it is not a huge load, but some people - perhaps concerned by my grey hair and advancing years - offer to help me pull her along. Anyway, it is a good work out getting the boat down there, and I feel a bit like Alaistair Humphreys and Leon McCarron dragging their cart Into the  Empty Quarter ( a short movie well worth a look if you haven't seen it.)

I was on the water about 10, and the winds were indeed light, and as usual, coming predominantly from the direction that I wanted to head in.

It took me till around 3 to get past the point, by which time the wind was filling in, and I was moving at about 3.5 knots. Werribee river would have taken about 2 hours more from the turn around point.

The breeze started to pick up as I turned for home.  I was setting the GPS to point me back to the launch spot, when the breeze shifted and I got a good whack on the head in an accidental gybe, plus a near capsize, about 50 metres off the reef at Point Cook.  That will teach me. It certainly made me pay attention.

The trip home on a broad reach took about  an hour.  I probably should have reefed but it was a rollocking good ride home.  A grand day out, and a good preparation for an expedition to Werribee River.

Ballarat to Brisbane Ranges to Little River micro adventure

Last week my daughter Jess had a couple of days off work and very kindly agreed to come along with me on a #microadventure, a ride from Ballarat to Little River, camping overnight in the Brisbane Ranges.  I was aiming to get some training kilometres in, in preparation for the Ballarat 2.5 hour relay event. After looking at the gradients involved and the wind forecasts for the two days, Jess rightly and wisely suggested we start from Ballarat and ride towards Little River, as we would have more downhill, and the strongest wind behind us on day 2.

We waited till the peak commuter rush was off the trains, then caught a train to Ballarat, getting in just before lunch.  I had a gps track and cue sheet, and we were soon out of the town and into lovely rolling country side, which seemed to be super fragrant thanks to rain the night before.

Tuesday was a good day for riding, and the 56 k from the train station to the camping ground at Boar Gully had plenty of variety.  A couple of good ups and downs, and mostly quiet country roads except for a few kilometers on the Geelong- Ballan road where there were B-double trucks and logging trucks whizzing past uncomfortably close.  But we survived, and made it to the camp site by 4.

There was a group of young lads camping there, which can be a worry.  I've had a wide experience with groups of young lads, and in my experience they are a thoroughly bad lot - to misquote Jaggers, the lawyer from Great Expectations.  But this lot were very civilized, turned the music off at 10, and kept hooting and hollering to the absolute minimum.  We had a good dinner, nice desert (dried apples and custard goes down well after a day of cycling) and a good fire for some caveman tv.

It was chilly overnight - right at the limits of comfort for our sleeping bags - but we slept well.  A bit slow in the morning, and we didn't get on the road till about 9.30.  The GPS track sent us off down Murphy's road, a dirt track which runs across the ranges then drops sharply down to the plain beneath.  Coming down, I was glad I wasn't going the other way.  I actually did the ride in the opposite direction many years ago, and the not happy memory of pushing a loaded bike up that grade came flooding back.

Down on the plain, the wind was kicking up, and with it the heat.  We blasted along mostly flat rolling roads and got to Little River by a bit after 12, just in time to miss one train.  So we visited the general store there with its very friendly ladies, who welcomed us despite our hot and sweaty appearance, bought some cold drinks, pottered into the headwind back to the train station - a little reminder of how nasty the headwind would have been - then caught the train back to Footscray, arriving just in time to miss our train.  Despite that we were home by 2.30.

There are no shops or good water points once you leave Ballarat until you get to Little River.  I took 5 litres of extra water, as well as each of us having two 750 ml bottles, but we used all that by morning. I filled up from the water tank at Boar Gully, and added Micropur iodine tablets.  You can never be sure where or how you pick up a bug, but I sure got one, and I was mighty sick the day after we got back.  I think I will take the water filter next time as well as the iodine tablets, and be extra careful boiling everything and washing it.  But it was a great little trip, amazing how remote and rugged it can feel so close to Melbourne

Castlemaine to Bendigo via the GDT

On Monday, we caught the train up to Castlemaine with the mountain bikes.  Surprisingly comfortable and easy to do - why don't we head up that way on the train more often, I wonder? The day was warm, in the thirties, but we figured we had only 19 kilometres of track to Harcourt, our overnight stopping place, so how hard could it be?  (Cue ominous music ...)

We arrived in Castlemaine around midday, and had lunch in the lovely botanical gardens, being entertained by a very musical magpie who stood on our table warbling at us.

Filled with lunch and enthusiasm, we headed off, following the trail signs.  On a steep rise out of town, I fluffed a gear change, pushed hard to keep momentum, and somehow managed to pop two spokes, cog side, in my rear wheel.  Not a great start.  We had passed a bike shop a kilometre or so back in town, so we limped back there, and luckily the shop agreed to fix them straight away and to come back in an hour.

Sitting in the park as we waited, we realised that in fact we had been heading out the track heading to Daylesford, not the one heading to Bendigo. Probably would have taken us a while to realise our mistake, so the broken spokes were sort of a blessing in disguise.   The bike mechanic was not particularly impressed with my 1980's mountain bike, and pointed out the poor state of the rims and the corrosion around the spokes. He didn't rate our chances of getting to Harcourt very highly I suspect, and suggested that we take the road there, much smoother and half the distance.  In retrospect, this might have been quite a good idea.  (More ominous music ...)

Whatever, it was about 2 by the time we really set off, the day nice and hot and the north wind gusting. We soon found that the going was not going to be easy on the GDT track.  Bits of it are dispiritingly steep with loose shale or rock.  Maybe younger more accomplished riders could ride it, but no way I could.

Eventually the trail entered some pine plantations and the going got a little easier, though there were still some hard sections.  I realised that most of my riding is relatively un-demanding.  Where we live is mostly flat, and if the wind blows, I just go a little slower.  Going up these hills with the rear wheel spinning in the gravel, there is no way to ease off. I discovered the limits of my fitness.   And going down, the limits of my skills. It is sort of demoralising to be walking up and down hills. But Dead Bullock Road saw us doing that - no wonder the poor old bullock died.  I was worried I might be going to join him. 

But all things pass, and we emerged onto a lovely undulating gravel road, and then actual tarmacadam, which was a great treat.  We rolled in to Tread at Harcourt about 5, fairly hot and tired.

Tread is an old motel which a young couple have turned into bike friendly accommodation and is a really nice place to stay.   There are even hooks next to the bed so you can hang your bike up nice and close at night in case you miss it too much.  We were made to feel very welcome there (unlike other places I've stayed with a bicycle.) 

A huge thunderstorm rolled through about 5 am.  When the alarm went at 6.30 it was raining, so we snoozed till 7, and opened the door on a wonderful clear fragrant morning.  We were on the road by 8 and enjoyed a lovely ride through the orchids at the back of Harcourt and round over the side of Mt Alexander. 

Today's ride was twice as long and half as difficult as the day before.  The trail follows the Coliban water aqueduct so it is relatively flat, except when it isn't - when the channel cuts through hills via tunnels.  But overall a splendid ride through lovely country. 

The trail still has some rough bits towards the end, but we were getting better at dirt and managed to ride most of them.  We arrived at Bendigo Station at 1 pm, in good time for the 1.36 back to Melbourne, which was again very comfortable except for the mobile phone conversations. Unfortunate that there is no bike storage in the quiet carriage.   

I arrived home about 3.30.  After a cup of tea I went out get some things off the bike and found the rear tyre completely flat, perhaps as Jess says, a sign from the bike gods that it really is time for a rear wheel change.

All in all, a great microadventure. 

Pirogue Saturday Sail

Now that the weather is warming up, and the Spring gales seem to have passed on, its time to get out on the water again.

I have been inspired by Dylan Winter and his Keep Turning Left blog with his wonderful films of sailing UK coastal and inland waters.  His Duck Punt films are well worth a look.   They reminded me how much fun sailing a flatbottom boat in shallow waters can be, so I dusted off the Bolger 12 Pirogue ("Peero") that has been sadly neglected of recent years, and went for a sail from the nearby beach down to the mouth of the Kororoit Creek.

My waterproof camera is pretty basic, but I learned a few things today.  One is make sure you have cleared all the old stuff off the camera storage.  The SD card was full by the time I got to the interesting part of the trip. Another good lesson is that salt water doesn't really improve picture quality.




But it was a lot of fun.  A short voyage in a small boat can seem like a big adventure.  I saw a banjo shark sunning itself in the shallows, terns diving,  pacific gull chicks in varying degrees of mottled plumage, swans, dogs bounding cheerfully through the RAMSA wetlands (no wonder the waders don't seem to come here anymore) and lots and lots of Bluebottles.

Interesting things, Bluebottles - also known as Portuguese Man'o'war or "floating terror" because of the intensely painful sting caused by contact with their tentacles.  I can't recall every seeing them in Port Phillip Bay before.  They were all over the beach at Norman Bay in Wilsons Prom earlier this week when we were down that way.  That's over 200 kilometres away.  There must be millions of them out there, fleets of them sailing around driven by their weird float bubbles,  like something out of a sci-fi horror movie.  Is it global warming that has brought them down our way?  Whatever, it is going to make swimming in the bay a lot less relaxing this summer.

Post script: To prove the adage that a patch of ice doth not a winter make, the Bluebottle invasion came and went remarkably quickly.  Within a week there were only the occassional sad little blue hat poking out of the sand in odd places. They have moved on to terrorize some other coast line. So we got a good swimming summer in, except for the days when heavy rain washed all the dog poo from Melbourne's streets into the bay causing it to become a massive bio hazard.

Dunkeld to Warrnambool

We were up and on the way out of town by about 6.45, reluctantly forgoing the no doubt delicious buffet breakfast offered by the hotel which would have delayed our departure. It was lovely being out in the cool of the morning. We passed a young Australian Shepherd puppy, about 6 months old, having a great time herding a flock of worried looking wood ducks across the road.  He was doing a great job, and though he was initially a bit suspicious of the recumbent, he came up for a pat.  A nice farewell from Dunkeld.  It was a lovely ride through the quiet country back roads, undulating through stands of fir trees, with magnificent views across to Mt Eccles and back to Mt Stapylton. The view from the recumbent seat was like this for a lot of the day, Jess vanishing over the rise as I cranked along, hoping to catch up on the descent on the other side.

We followed Google maps suggested route, which landed us on a dirt road for about 6 kilometers - a teeth rattling experience but very pretty and quiet.  And so nice to get back on the tarmac.

Coming over one of the ridges, we could feel cooler air, and there was a visible line of sea mist along the coast line ahead. We arrived at Woolsthorpe about 11.30 and stopped for some health food - a can of coke and a chocolate milk at the general store. The lady in the store said the temperature was currently 26, and their forecast top was 38. We could feel the gusts of wind getting hotter by the minute. There is a picnic table under a beautiful golden elm tree outside the store, but they had a creepy full sized santa on the verandah of the store which played a repertoire of four christmas carols. Over and over again. Perhaps intended like the musak that shopping centres play in carparks to drive off loitering youths.  It sure worked for us.

The road got busier and the shoulder on the road varied from good to disgraceful as we got closer to Warrnambool.  A strong southerly headwind started up, which was good for keeping us cool, but sometimes hard to peddle into. After a few days of friendly drivers waving to us, and giving us an extra wide berth as they passed, the traffic in Warrnambool was particularly aggressive, and the inhabitants of three separate cars yelled something at us.  They probably thought it was terribly witty, and it might have been (though I doubt it), but to us, thanks to the doppler effect, it sounded like "ooraahhhroo" or something. Anyway, hills, headwind, dickhead drivers, tired legs, the last bit wasn't a huge amount of fun, but we hit the station, changed the booking, had a wash and changed our clothes, and headed out for lunch by 2.  After we headed down to the local library, and enjoyed the guilty pleasure of recharging our phones in a bank of powerpoints under a sign which prohibited recharging any device but a laptop. (Why, one wonders ...? )  We were grateful of the quiet space and relaxed until about 5 when we headed off to get our bikes on the train. A nice trip except for the lady a few seats back with the loud voice and the mobile on speaker phone who called various apparently deaf relatives.  "Hello Auntie Beryl.  How are you?" "What?""How.Are.You?" "What?" "HOW. ARE. YOU?" ... Thanks heavens for earphones. The train dropped us in Melbourne at 9.20 and after retrieving the bikes, trying to get the station lift to work and a bit of stress getting to our platform on time, we got onto our local train, and home by 10.

All in all it was a good trip, though not quite what we planned. Temperatures today around 40 degrees, so we are glad to be home and cool.  Note to self: plan future trips with more of an eye to the weather.

Halls Gap to Dunkeld.

Another hot day forecast so we set the alarm for 10 to 6. I slept pretty well despite having a kangaroo munching grass right next to the tent, a few centremetres from my head. The stars from the valley at Halls Gap seem extra bright and the dawn extra dramatic. We watched the east facing cliffs go a spectacular golden red colour as we munched our breakfasts in the camp kitchen. We were packed and on the road by 7.

As bike rides go this has to be one of the most scenic, with the mighty rocky outcrops lining the valley and the dense bush shading the road. The first phase of the ride is a long climb up over the great divide. Nice to get that out of the way early while the day is cool

We made fairly good time and really enjoyed the long sweeping down hill on the other side. We were encouraged by a Google maps profile which seemed to suggest it was mostly dkwn all the way into Dunkeld,  but we discovered afterwards that was a different route, one which avoided the energy sapping climb up over the ominously named mount abrupt. It was hot when we got there and it was a struggle to keep on going. But not a lot of options and we made it over and down into Dunkeld a bit before 1 by which time it was baking. Our tires were sinking into melting tarmac and we were seriously tired. We stopped at the caravan park but the prospect of spending the afternoon in that heat wasn't very appealing, so we booked into the very nice Royal Mail hotel, with aircon, fluffy white towels and a swimming pool for a bit of restoration. The forecasts are dire for the next few days so we plan to ride to Warrnambool tomorrow and see if we can shift our booking to go back tomorrow night. Means as 100 k ride though - a while since I've put one of those in on a loaded bike. But hopefully it gets cooler as we get near the coast.