Stage Racing is a strange beast. One day you feel incredible, the next nothing seems to go right. You never quite know what fate is about to serve up. On even rarer days you get a lethal dose of both the sublime and the ridiculous. Day 4, the final stage, of the Port to Port was definitely one of those bizarre days.

The iconic route was scheduled to start at Cams Warf with a 60 metre climb up a rutted walking track, along Lake Maquarie waterfront, several bike paths, fast fireroad, the mountain bike trails of Glenrock and into the finish at Nobby's Beach Reserve. Just like Port to Port's sister event, the Cape to Cape, in Western Australia, there would be a challenging beach section, which was sure to be where the race for category positions would be won and lost. And so it proved...

Like the previous day, Peter Selkrig and I, warmed up by riding to the event start, this time by leaving our cars at Blacksmiths and riding the initial fifteen kilometres of the course in reverse. This meant we knew exactly what terrain we would hit and should allow both of us to make decent starts.

After the initial chaos of the dirt climb, where Mike Blewitt was forced to withdraw with a sliced sidewall, we were forced to jump logs beside a fence, the landowner not being able to locate the key for the gate the night before! I found myself with a group including Imogen Smith and John Elliott. We motored along the bike paths on the waterfront of Lake Maquarie, where locals stood aside in awe although one old guy yelled that this was not a race track at every passing group. Normally, he would be correct, but today there was a war of speed unfolding. At a tricky chicane, John Elliott was able to power away and bridge across to the group in front. Perhaps he thought he could make up the seven minutes he trailed in our category. I decided to bide my time, aware that the true test of the stage was lurking around a few more corners.

Our group swelled as we crossed over the Swansea Channel and flew along the streets of Blacksmiths. I tried, with a couple of others, to break up the group which was now carrying numerous passengers, but to no avail. However, everything was quickly about to change.

Riding the wooden boards onto the beach, we scampered across to the slither of hard sand, riders jumping aboard their machines and initiating the crossing up the beach. At the start line, we were advised to keep our weight back and off the front wheel, and I was fully focused on achieving this goal. The first waves hit us and most riders abandoned their quest to ride and started the long push up the beach. I stoically remained on my steed, each wave slowing my forward momentum, but as the water ebbed away, I was able to regain motion. At times, the sand seemed to solidify, and I made the most of these times by increasing my pedal rate. I was amazed at how much time I was making up as I passed rider after rider, either walking or running but very few, apart from the elites ahead in the distance, still cycling. I passed John Elliott early, his bid to close time on me evaporating. Dave Tattis, Craig Barnes, Alex Kooijman, who was barely a minute ahead of me in overall time and Richard Peil, who had a more comfortable lead and was third in Masters 1 after the first three stages. The water continued to crash against my bike, and I knew that a total bike re-build was a necessity after the race in order to remove the corrosive salt water. I ploughed on in the knowledge that I would surely repair the damage of yesterday's stage and challenge for a more favourable finishing position. 

I left the beach with Chris Southwood (Flow MTB) and Adam Freeman from Drift Bikes. Chris assured me that there would be no more beach crossings (I had been told there would be two) and perhaps I felt a little disappointed. I held their wheel through the fireroad that connected us to Furnleigh Bike Path, and then I jumped on the high intensity power train. As we rolled over to keep up the speed, isolated riders were picked up and our train swelled, then a rider would be dropped. I endeavoured to stay with the group and, as we hit the Glenrock mountain bike trails, I was feeling extremely pleased with my progress. 

In a cruel twist of fate, my elation was to be short lived. Ascending from a creek, both gear levers failed to respond and I was forced to jump off the bike. My gear cable had snapped, undoubtedly a victim of the perishing salt water from earlier. I was jammed in the highest gear so I desperately tried to move the chain to the smaller front chain ring but without success. I remounted, uncertain of what my immediate future now held. The track stayed fairly flat for a few minutes but a large hill was lurking. There was no way I could ride these hills in the highest gear. The lever was still not responding. I hit the hill, braced myself, then suddenly the chain jumped over under stress and I was able to pedal to the top. I was now in a more manageable gear for the remainder of Glenrock.

Brett 'Jeebus' Bellchambers is a legend when it comes to riding singlespeed. He is a powerhouse and simply unbeatable when it comes to this form of riding. I climbed up 'snakes and ladders' and Brett's angel was sitting on my shoulder. 'Use the momentum, Phil' , 'momentum is your friend'. My current despair melted away and I was transformed into the rare breed of singlespeed jedi. My Turner Czar was my Millenium Falcon, and I was piloting my crippled ship through hostile surroundings. As the climbs increased in gradient and I stamped on the pedals, almost always out of the saddle, the chain started to sing aloud under the increased load. I decided a broken chain was not going to be welcomed at this point and so I took to running up the steepest sections. Riders were passing me but I had to forge on. 

Unlike the day before, when I was disappointed the stage had been shortened, I now wanted the quickest route home and would have gratefully accepted a boring short cut that would have eliminated the need to ride the great trails of Glenrock. At last, my prayers were answered, and I emerged from the forests, onto the trails that led to the scenic drive. Ahead, I could see a group of four riders and I managed to close the gap and join their group. The singlespeed was better suited to the level ground.

Not being used to spending so much time out of the saddle, my legs started to cramp. Just another problem I needed to deal with. I took the last sips of fluid and powered on. I was with Emily Parkes and her TORQ teammate, but also Trek Racing's Richard Piel. As we neared the finish, I launched a sprint and managed to beat Richard to the line, taking a rare victory over my Masters rival.

My 5th place (Masters 1) on the day, was enough to catapult me over Alex Kooijman, who was to finish over two minutes behind. My intention was to finish in the Top 5, so 4th place (and 34th overall) was extremely satisfying, particularly considering the calibre of the competition. Stu Adams, Stephen Billington and Richard Peil, made up a quality Masters 1 Podium. 

On arriving at Briar Ridge Vineyard after a 20 kilometre warm up ride from our accommodation, the news that greeted us was slightly unwelcome. The race organisers had cut the course by 12 kilometres, due to the overly muddy conditions of some of the trails. This would have been great news to most riders, considering the mud-fest the day before, but this meant that my endurance strengths would be less likely to come into play at the back end of the stage. Despite my disappointment, the good news was the sun was shining and the rain was being kept at bay.

The start involved an early pinch climb, a few hundreds metres into the stage, a rapid descent and then approximately five kilometres of climbing. Despite a good warm-up, I felt decidedly average and quickly lost ground on my rivals.

At the top of the climb my sunglasses had steamed up to the point I couldn't clear them. We passed the lookout and were soon descending down the Great North Walking Track. The problem was I just couldn't see, but I somehow clumsily  survived the ordeal. Once released onto some open track, I realised I had lost large chunks of time on those ahead. 

I was able to work with others on the short bitumen section, and as we negotiated the Aberdale State Forest Roads, I tried to swap turns with Ben Jacka, who was looking comfortable on his home trails. I eventually lost his wheel and found a new partner in John Elliott, sitting one place behind me in the Masters 1 Category. This proved a fruitful partnership until I took a bad line into a corner, unclipped in a gully and the following crunch (I found out later) was John Elliot launching over the bars. His rear hangar bent, meant I lost his support for the rest of the ride. 

I closed and passed other solo riders, including Craig Barnes, who exclaimed his day was pretty much done and he had no legs to follow. I rode alone to the finish, through the Richmond Vale Railway Museum, a strange and eerie place reminiscing days long since gone.

This turned out to be an enjoyable day, in terms of riding, but disappointing in regard to the result. I finished sixth in Masters 1 and 47th overall. The Top 4 riders in my category all finished ahead and I now trail Alex Kooijman, in fourth by over a minute.

Tomorrow's final stage will be a power day, incorporating bike paths, stair climbs, Glenrock MTB Park and a beach section, before finishing the event at the spectacular Nobbys Beach Reserve.

The sunshine and beautiful blue skies of Day One were quickly to become a distant memory, as New South Wales remembered it was actually Winter and left her taps in the sky on full throughout the night. Peter Selkrig and I, duly aborted the scheduled forty minute warm-up ride from our accommodation near Lindemans Winery and took to the warmth and dryness of a motor vehicle. Fortunately, the rain abated and a satisfactory warm up was achieved before the race start.

The lead car peeled off after four hundred metres and the race up the first big climb was on in earnest. Selkrig had been caught napping and was still in sight half way up the hill. Category rivals were all within touching distance, while fellow Manly rider, Mark Hardy, appeared to be struggling to find his usual comfortable rhythm. The field began to spread out as the fireroad continued to point skywards. Mud was being thrown up from other riders, and it seemed folly to follow too closely. I decided the sunglasses were more a hindrance and carefully stowed them in a back pocket, from which they were soon ejected and ultimately  lost. Mud was still getting in my eyes, but a few blinks, and vision would be temporarily restored.

At the top, the trail undulated for a few kilometres before diving into some newly created singletrack. At first, the trails were incredible fun as it was possible to slide uncontrollably down the mud slides, unclip at the bottom, and use a trailing leg to turn into the next section a la speedway. It was here I was to pass Imogen Smith, who had made a very fast start, but was now looking distinctly unhappy with all the mud. My fun continued for only a little longer. The trail was becoming less and less rideable, as were the short pinches that seemed to be ever increasing. Running the bike up the hills became more and more taxing, as did the remounting of the bike and reclipping into mud-caked pedals with mud-buried cleats.

On a dry day, this section of singletrack would have been a dream to ride - the Race Organisers had even promised some of the best singletrack we would ever ride. This fact was an even more bitter pill to swallow, when the trail emerged on a newly bull-dozed section. The dirt had turned into knee-deep mud that surely couldn't be ridden. I tried to run with the bike, but the wheels gathered so much mud that they stopped turning and I ground to a halt. I picked the bike up but it was now so heavy, that even this was impossible. The only option was to stop and clear as much mud from the wheels as feasibly possible. I continued on my way but the mud-fest just kept coming. It was hell on earth and I was losing the will to live. When would this ever end. I looked around and others were struggling too. Selkrig was to snap his chain, others were to retire completely. After some might say was an eternity, the trail emerged onto a more solid road. After clearing as much mud as I could I was able to ride away, just as Emily Parkes passed by. I soon found my rhythm and we were back in a mountain bike race again. I overtook Emily on a pinch climb and never saw her again.

The bitumen road section into Millfield was an opportunity to work with others and keep a decent pace up. Unfortunately, our small group of four soon became three. At the bottle drop, a second rider stopped and our group was two. My partner was having problems with his rear derailleur and had actually wanted to stop so he could clean his drive chain, but had erroneously followed me past his point of saviour. His loss was my gain, and we worked together for a number of kilometres swapping turns at the front. As the final hill climb began to steepen, he paid the price for his lack of gearing and dropped back. I saw bikes ahead and knew it was time to jump ship and catch the tiring riders further up the road. 

As we reached the top of the second climb, and crested the final pinch of around 25-30% gradient, I knew the last 10 kilometres would be relatively cruisy. We entered a boulder shrewn paddock, I passed the Flanno Express, Craig Barnes, and Master's rival Alex Kooijman and Jacob Van Egmond who had ridden 26 kilometres with broken handlebars. I was feeling strong and I was able to power on alone, accelerating away down the final technical and suicidal descent, into Drayton's winery and finally back to the finish at Lindeman's. 

I finished 5th in category and 36th overall, a vast improvement on the first day. I was able to gain time on Kooijman, while Darren Smith suffered a broken derailleur and dropped from the top of the rankings. Richard Piel and Stephen Billington performed strongly, and with Stu Adams, they hold the Top 3 Master's podium positions.

Tomorrow is the longest day with 63 kilometres of riding in the Hunter Valley planned, although if the predicted rain falls, this stage could be shortened, as the organisers attempt to avoid another day in the mud. Indeed, some thought should go to those riders towards the back end of the field who would have ridden the track today when it was at its very worst. More time in the saddle means more pain both on and off the bike. Without doubt, towards the front end of the field, riders have a much easier time. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better for everyone.

The start of the inaugural Port to Port four day stage race in Port Stephens was blessed with beautiful sunshine and warm temperatures. It seems that this area of New South Wales has forgotten that Winter officially begins in just three days' time. 

The Top elite riders were called to the start line, followed by a pack of lean-looking riding machines, numbering 190 in all. I exchanged words with Mark Hardy, before we all followed out the lead car. The pace swiftly quickened, and an early pecking order was established before we hit the first sandy walking track. Numerous rocky and loose pinch climbs greeted riders jostling hard for position. Flow Magazine's, Chris Southwood, suddenly veered left and knocked me into a scattering of loose rocks, that resulted in a loss of traction. I was knocked out of my rhythm and I clumsily rode the next kilometre with the skill of a complete novice, gradually moving backwards through the field. 

Fortunately, I was able to regain my composure, as the race entered Tomaree National Park. It was important, as in any stage race, to find a group of riders of similar abilities and to work together to maintain a competitive speed. Elite female rider, Imogen Smith, was one such rider. The greatest single challenge of this stage was successfully negotiating the deep sand that lay almost everywhere and I soon learnt that following Imogen was a commendable strategy. Unlike most of the men, who rely on power to drive a line through the sand, Imogen would skillfully select the path of least resistance, and ride it flawlessly. However, before realising this basic fact, I found myself breaking away from the group, managing to bury myself in the deepest sand and then watching the others effortlessly sail by. Consequently, I decided to bide my time and follow others through the sand traps. Half way through the stage, we hit the 'vertical beach' and we were all walking up this formidable sand dune. Soon afterwards, the pace quickened and I noticed the road crossing approaching. The cars were banking up and I was 15 metres off the main group. I accelerated to close the gap and managed to catch them, just as the marshals closed the road, thereby saving me at least a minute of stationary time.

The speed of the race picked up again. At one of the forks in the road a group containing Mark Hardy and Alex Kooijman suddenly appeared on our right but they accelerated away, determined to make up for lost time. Our own group contained Craig Barnes, sporting an eye-catching tarton top, and Elite female, Emily Parkes, who was fighting for supremacy with Imogen, in a bid to place second behind the forever strong Jenny Fay, now approximately five minutes up the road. 

We emerged from Tomaree National Park, and I was able to break away from our group with another two riders. As we climbed the final hill, a rush of blood sent me into the lead, but past a left turn which took us into the park and the final section of singletrack. Emily had taken advantage of my error and I had to work hard to close the gap. As we turned into the final straight with the finish line in sight, I managed to move ahead of her. The diminutive figure, suddenly rose from her saddle and sprinted for the line and I was barely able to beat her by half a wheel length.

I was pleased with my 6th place in a strong Master's field. Stu Adams and Darren Smith were comfortably in first and second, but only five minutes separates third to sixth, a group which contains Richard Peil, Alex Kooijman, Stephen Billington and John Elliot. The race was fast and 22.6 km/h is testament to that. Some riders were pushing hard today, and with a big day of climbing ahead in tomorrow's Hunter Valley Stage, it will be interesting to see how riders are able to back up. Without doubt, the next stage will shake up the overall standings like no other.