Child-birth, life and Bellchambers
 (Israel, 2013) Five of the World's Top 24 hour endurance mountain bikers were called individually to the start line at Mt. Stromlo. The countdown to the start of Australia's National Championship had begun. Multiple World Champion, Jason English, an ever-improving Ed McDonald and the World single-speed champion Brett Bellchambers. I lined up in the row behind flanked by rivals and friends Pete Selkrig and Mike Israel. For once, Pete and Mike were not my direct competition but, as I had found out earlier in the week, the mighty and formidable Brett Bellchambers had grown old and was now in the same 40-44 year old age group as myself. Brett rides a singlespeed! A bike built for simplicity and ridden by crazy, wild (and invariably, excessively hairy) hardmen who forgo the comfort of gears. Brett has long been the World's best on this type of machine, one few would remotely consider riding in an event of this nature. What's more, course designers Jason Mcavoy and Andrew Hall had created a more technical course with a beast of an uphill fireroad climb which would test even the indestructable Bellchambers. This provided a slither of hope in my quest to finish ahead - the last Nationals I had finished 4 laps adrift of Brett and in my first ever 24 hour in April 2010 I finished 9 laps behind! I have steadily improved my racing but surely this was indeed a step too far.  (Israel, 2013) |  (Israel, 2013)  (Chan 2013) The gun sounded and we were off. I managed to get a faster than normal start, and found myself locking wheels with Mike and Pete allowing me to settle into a quick but comfortable riding pace. Time moved quicky as we focussed on each other and 12 o'clock soon became 7, darkness wrapping it's black fist around the hills and mountains of Canberra. |
With darkness came separation. Mike and I traded positions several times in the gloom as lap times slowed and legs became weary. At 2.15am I was climbing to the top of the long, steep fireroad when the mighty Brett Bellchambers came past - out of the saddle - and monstering his stead up the hill that all the other single-speeders I had seen were walking. I offered comments of disbelief and then he was gone. Indeed it was Easter Sunday, the day Christ had come back from the dead. Perhaps the bearded fellow who had glided effortlessly past was not a mortal man but something from a distant world. I rubbed the sweat and dirt from my eyes but they provided no clarity for what I had just witnessed.
I was informed by my wonderfully, hard-working Project 63 pit crew that I had 2nd by forty minutes and just to keep rolling out the laps. It was now 6 am, and dawn was still over an hour away. I had once again climbed to the top of the mountain and was about to negotiate Skyline, the luge and the intimidating giant berms of Stromlo's downhill course. My helmet light had already flicked to medium setting to save battery life. Then my handlebar warning light flickered red and the beam of light ahead of me vanished. Transition and a replacement battery were 4 km of descending at speeds of over 40 km/h away. At any time my fast fading helmet light could disappear and plunge me into complete darkness. I hovered tentatively over the brakes as I made my descent. This time I managed to survive the scare and I entered transition in a mixed state of adrenalin and relief.
This was my ninth 24 hour race and the 8th I have done in the solo format. I often look back at my previous races with pride and fond memories. Like child - birth, we forget the pain and the slow, slow, ever so slow hours that drag past during the course of the race. The initial daylight hours are easy as we race for position and enjoy the nuances of the track. Nightfall supplies a new challenge but after a couple of hours the novelty wears off and it's hard not to think of the dawn and the beauty of a rising sun and warmer temperatures. But when the joy of sunrise has supplied its uplifting moment there is still at least 5 hours of gruesome punishment ahead. Days and months later we remember the glory, the medals, the prizes, the result but focus little, if at all, on the pain used to deliver those memories.
Calculating I had 3 laps to do before I could step off the bike for the first time in 24 hours I was suddenly awoken from my slumber. Not believing my 2nd position was a done-deal I had turned a switchback and looked directly at a fast-closing and grimacing rider with number 45, my age category. It seemed inconceivable to lose second place in the last two hours and I started to hammer out a far quicker rhythm. Consequently, my last three laps were 5-7 minutes faster than the previous two dawn laps. Indeed, this final change of pace proved to be necessary as Damian Gillard had hunted me down during the first hours of daylight and, at one point, he had basically reeled me in. I crossed the line, and on having 2nd confirmed, I pumped my fist in jubilation. My final surge had been inspired by rider 45 but he was not, as I had initially feared, the major threat - but, without a doubt, this case of mistaken identity had helped secure my final position...and the silver medal.
Calculating I had 3 laps to do before I could step off the bike for the first time in 24 hours I was suddenly awoken from my slumber. Not believing my 2nd position was a done-deal I had turned a switchback and looked directly at a fast-closing and grimacing rider with number 45, my age category. It seemed inconceivable to lose second place in the last two hours and I started to hammer out a far quicker rhythm. Consequently, my last three laps were 5-7 minutes faster than the previous two dawn laps. Indeed, this final change of pace proved to be necessary as Damian Gillard had hunted me down during the first hours of daylight and, at one point, he had basically reeled me in. I crossed the line, and on having 2nd confirmed, I pumped my fist in jubilation. My final surge had been inspired by rider 45 but he was not, as I had initially feared, the major threat - but, without a doubt, this case of mistaken identity had helped secure my final position...and the silver medal.
 (McAvoy, 2013) | bell-chamber. Room containing one or more bells hung from their cage or frame. brett-bellchambers. Wild, bearded man containing two rocket propelled legs hung from a large frame. With the World Championship at Mt. Stromlo in October this race has provided a good indicator of some of the major contenders. World Champion, Jason English, didn't believe some of the overseas competitors would venture here knowing they would, once again, be soundly beaten by the stronger Australian riders. Fortunately, in my age category, Brett Bellchambers will be in a separate single-speed category leaving the 40-44 wide open. The eventual winner and age category World Champion is likely to be based in Australia. |
Photos courtesy of Mike Israel, Bernhard Chan (Project 63) and Jason McAvoy.
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