Post #471
8/11 Tour de Nar Nar Goon.
Two weeks leave had turned me Marco Polo, travelling the south east of the state on roads never traveled to clear the head of work-a-day woes....but minus the mates that motivate tempo. Guess I'll have to endure one's self and a slower speed. Sunday's spin happened to circle the land of peculiar place names, starting at Bunyip in a fairly fresh 6 degrees. Average roads (minus that metre or so of verge) had a gentle rise and fall to Garfield in Gippsland's west, not a car east or west to make a peaceful Sunday at 6. Tynong, like many other small spots on the map 'round here, was but 8 k's away, asleep as expected while I rolled onward to Nar Nar Goon ('the native bear'). Steering south on Seven Mile Rd the sun got out of bed to deliver a little psychological warmth, equine overload in these parts with Packenam racecourse nearby.
Two cars made it peak hour nearing Koo Wee Rup ('blackfish swimming') as I searched for Bunyip River Rd. Those subtle rises weren't so subtle on my flat-lander legs, pushing up the Garmin numbers to keep a pace worth posting. East toward Cora Lynn (gaelic 'couldron'), plenty of pot-holes the diameter and depth of a helmet threatened to swallow a wheel if eyes weren't glued to the tarmac but sunlight lit the way for 7 k's to the right/left over the creek past the cheese factory.
Another 7 k's tap reached Veravale, nothing but a right/left intersection and a house. 4k's onward Iona offered a veritable metropolis (a church and two houses. Plotting this path yesterday told me just 5 k's remained, a concerted effort to finish with a reasonable average hurried the heart rate back into Bunyip.....and not a cafe to deliver a caffeine fix!
9/11 Wait a minute, this isn't Bells-Armstrong Rd!
An Inverloch start-line at sun-up on Monday steered my way to Cape Patterson, the two short sharp rises on Surf parade a heart-starter for the coastal 15k of tarmac. Sea air, long thought a remedy for all ailments (coughs, colds, sore holes and pimples on the whatever) was refreshing, a contrast to the blood and bone aromas of Channel Rd or the piggy parfum du pork palace on Old Dookie Rd. It didn't put any boost into my wattage for the inclines though. Swanky holiday homes in the six figure category dot the rocky coast, a few other riders now out and about on the course soaking up the sun's rays in the face while my back was warming to it.
The twists and turns uphill soon gave way to declines as Cape Patterson's roofs shone through the scrub. A mandatory Baum and beach shot was taken (purely to stir the pot of those at work) then a re-mount to ride the north leg toward Wonthaggi. There was a bit more of the subtle ups and downs but this time with the east northeaster to annoy progress. Cardinia Shire has at least sealed a verge worth travelling. A few more bikes were now southbound, runners too pounding the pavement of the bike lane. A few lefts and rights of Wonthaggi's streets finally found the Bass highway (really just a B road) back toward base camp, steadily increasing eastbound traffic slicing the 13 k's of headwind back, though they'd mysteriously be absent on the ascents when I needed it most. Uphill with a headwind, it's a conspiracy I say! At least there was 3 k's of downhill into Inverloch as a fitting finale, but not a coffee shop open to satisfy that other addiction.
10/11 It's a tough life, but somebody has to do it!
Already seeking variety on foreign soil, a clockwise loop from Inverloch to Wonthaggi, St Clair, Wattle Bank and back would satisfy a swap of scenery. The search of Strava segments found a track tapped often by the locals. The Bass highway wasn't much different westbound to yesterday's effort east, though the early 3 k uphill out of Inverloch could have been better planned. Contentment came with the km/h in the 30's, that metre + of verge reasonably clear of branches, work boots and dead wombats to steer a safe path 13k to Wonthaggi.
Bearing north to (appropriately named) North Wonthaggi felt an east northeaster brewing, barely a breeze at the moment but in my face for the uphill to St Clair. (it's that conspiracy again!) The Lynnes Rd Strava segment, a staggering 0.3% incline was almost manageable for flat-lander me, peas and cows the scenery for the 10 k stretch to Wattle Bank. I ignored the bovine stares at some old human on two wheels huffing and puffing his way east (they're the weird ones, standing naked in a field chewing grass!) Rosella's and wrens greeted Tuesday's sun, not the usual squark of cockatoos and magpies I've grown used to on home soil.
Korumburra Rd appeared ahead of schedule, the mostly downhill drive to Inverloch getting me back ahead of agenda, what better than to cruise to coast with the sun at my back to clock a few extra holiday k's? It would have been better to have a cafe open for a fix of caffeine but an instant back at base camp would suffice till something is found in the days to come.
11/11 Where the %#@ is Kongwak?
As much as that beachy cruise to Cape Patterson was calling, I sought a different path for my last day based at Inverloch ; new tarmac to tap called louder than the coast. 
Counter clockwise through Screw Creek, Pound Creek, Leongatha South, Outtrim, Kongwak and back via Wattle Bank to Inverloch had an appeal, if only to tour the place names! It's hard to convince the body to brave short sleeves and short knicks (and no insulation layers) after a long and cold winter, but Wednesday dawned a sweet 17 degrees with a northeaster blowing, a mildness long forgotten. Setting sail to Screw Creek faced a breeze in the face and that uphill conspiracy into the bargain.
Oh well Foss, get over that snail-like pace and the searching for the right ratio, there'd be a downhill somewhere as compensation for the cruelty. Squadrons of tiny insects had a yearning to invade any bodily opening as the sun peeked above the horizon, concerns I was on the wrong track soon vanishing as Pound Creek Rd appeared through the squadrons. The turn north had more inclines and more insects! 5 k's onward I found the B460 stretching toward Leongatha, a little more of that uphill through contented cow country to eventually find that compensation of a gradual descent to rest labored legs. The Outtrim Rd was in my sights at Leongatha Sth, the turn west southwest a real mood changer as that racket of wind between the ears shifted to blow at my back, the smooth stretch of tarmac delivering a little downhill at no extra cost. A comfort from the previous 27k's.
You know me, I like hills as much as that Covid test swab right up the nostril! So I was avoiding that big bump to the west of Foster like an appointment with a proctologist, but the views of Wilson's Promontory, the rolling green valleys of cow county Gippsland and the downhill descents in almost all directions became almost magnetic. I'd just have to suck up the suffering of that 7% ascent to soak in the delight of the descents. Around the streets of Foster got legs limbered for the labor and the chain aquainted with the little ring, but getting the head around the elevation would take some serious cognitive behavior therapy (and maybe a little bell ringing by Pavlov) .
The first 100 metres of the Bass highway started on a positive note with speed in the mid 20's, but up went the tarmac and down went the tempo for the next 20 minutes, riding to keep the h.r. under 175 if I was to make it up alive. The verge soon vanished and the tactile edge-lining was to be avoided if I were to keep the few fillings in my teeth. The aroma of deceased wallaby wasn't so welcome with the respiratory system in overdrive and I was already on the limit of the 38/25. And I wasn't about to take the easy way out downhill.
The road eased to 5% for half a minute giving respiratory relief but quickly kicked up to 8% to run me at the red-line. It was a blessing the hill gave shelter from the WSW blowing at 25 km/h. The lookout sign saying 800 metres was a sight for sore legs, the final 500 metres off the Fizik turned them to jelly though. Staying seated would spell stalling. Up and over the crest that view was payback for the pain, though the WSW'er fair in the face put the brakes on a descent at escape velocity. Besides, I was on the lookout for the Falls Rd turn-off. A k later found the exit, the twisting 3% descent along the ridge-line toward Fish Creek the pleasure I'd toiled for. Those rolling green hills with the Promontory's mountains beyond are hypnotic, though eyes were best fixed on the road for bumps and holes, and without guard rails at the roadside there was a sharp drop to the valley below.
Fish Creek was asleep at 7, passing the art deco pub to seek the Meeniyan-Promontory Rd southward in the Yanakie direction. Lower into the valley a few uphills returned (didn't the legs love that!) though riding along the fern lined tarmac with Rosella's on the wing and Lyre birds calling from the undergrowth was sublime. A twist here and a turn there, the chain urged up and down the cassette with the Promontory looming larger found the C446 back to Foster sooner than expected. 9 k's of a 1-2% descent made a fitting finish (and lifted the very average average after crawling the first 20 minutes), the icing on the cake to find a cafe open with decent coffee to sit and reflect on the silence of a week spinning solo.
Counter clockwise through Screw Creek, Pound Creek, Leongatha South, Outtrim, Kongwak and back via Wattle Bank to Inverloch had an appeal, if only to tour the place names! It's hard to convince the body to brave short sleeves and short knicks (and no insulation layers) after a long and cold winter, but Wednesday dawned a sweet 17 degrees with a northeaster blowing, a mildness long forgotten. Setting sail to Screw Creek faced a breeze in the face and that uphill conspiracy into the bargain.
Oh well Foss, get over that snail-like pace and the searching for the right ratio, there'd be a downhill somewhere as compensation for the cruelty. Squadrons of tiny insects had a yearning to invade any bodily opening as the sun peeked above the horizon, concerns I was on the wrong track soon vanishing as Pound Creek Rd appeared through the squadrons. The turn north had more inclines and more insects! 5 k's onward I found the B460 stretching toward Leongatha, a little more of that uphill through contented cow country to eventually find that compensation of a gradual descent to rest labored legs. The Outtrim Rd was in my sights at Leongatha Sth, the turn west southwest a real mood changer as that racket of wind between the ears shifted to blow at my back, the smooth stretch of tarmac delivering a little downhill at no extra cost. A comfort from the previous 27k's.
Foxes scurried to the roadside bracken while the wheels hummed the 0.3% decline, even the odd incline failed to flummox Foss in these conditions. A halt to search Stewart's Rd on Google maps soon had me steering south southwest, a few soloists found pushing the red zone uphill while I waved a g'day cruising on the big cog toward Kongwak (trying desperately to mask my smug grin) Eau du dead wombat, wallaby and shingle-back lizard turned thoughts off food, the winding trail to Korumburra-Inverloch Rd covered quickly to the edge of Kongwak's community. More gradual declines in Inverloch's direction told the tale of toil endured earlier, a mental hooray to the planner of this circuit to gift a downhill home. A sting in the sartorius said some muscles had done more than the usual duty, the 5 k push back to base station at least rewarded a solitary PB.
13/11 Pain pre pleasure.
You know me, I like hills as much as that Covid test swab right up the nostril! So I was avoiding that big bump to the west of Foster like an appointment with a proctologist, but the views of Wilson's Promontory, the rolling green valleys of cow county Gippsland and the downhill descents in almost all directions became almost magnetic. I'd just have to suck up the suffering of that 7% ascent to soak in the delight of the descents. Around the streets of Foster got legs limbered for the labor and the chain aquainted with the little ring, but getting the head around the elevation would take some serious cognitive behavior therapy (and maybe a little bell ringing by Pavlov) .
The first 100 metres of the Bass highway started on a positive note with speed in the mid 20's, but up went the tarmac and down went the tempo for the next 20 minutes, riding to keep the h.r. under 175 if I was to make it up alive. The verge soon vanished and the tactile edge-lining was to be avoided if I were to keep the few fillings in my teeth. The aroma of deceased wallaby wasn't so welcome with the respiratory system in overdrive and I was already on the limit of the 38/25. And I wasn't about to take the easy way out downhill.
The road eased to 5% for half a minute giving respiratory relief but quickly kicked up to 8% to run me at the red-line. It was a blessing the hill gave shelter from the WSW blowing at 25 km/h. The lookout sign saying 800 metres was a sight for sore legs, the final 500 metres off the Fizik turned them to jelly though. Staying seated would spell stalling. Up and over the crest that view was payback for the pain, though the WSW'er fair in the face put the brakes on a descent at escape velocity. Besides, I was on the lookout for the Falls Rd turn-off. A k later found the exit, the twisting 3% descent along the ridge-line toward Fish Creek the pleasure I'd toiled for. Those rolling green hills with the Promontory's mountains beyond are hypnotic, though eyes were best fixed on the road for bumps and holes, and without guard rails at the roadside there was a sharp drop to the valley below.
Fish Creek was asleep at 7, passing the art deco pub to seek the Meeniyan-Promontory Rd southward in the Yanakie direction. Lower into the valley a few uphills returned (didn't the legs love that!) though riding along the fern lined tarmac with Rosella's on the wing and Lyre birds calling from the undergrowth was sublime. A twist here and a turn there, the chain urged up and down the cassette with the Promontory looming larger found the C446 back to Foster sooner than expected. 9 k's of a 1-2% descent made a fitting finish (and lifted the very average average after crawling the first 20 minutes), the icing on the cake to find a cafe open with decent coffee to sit and reflect on the silence of a week spinning solo.
This week 208 km YTD 9,727 km
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