to quit a big event, however compelling the
reasons. More selfishly, I had also lost my
riding partner on what I knew was going to
be another epic day on the bike. Now, I only
had the wildlife to complain to.
When the sun goes down the place
really starts jumpin’. Wildlife is one of the
obvious risks on the Cloudride: wombats,
roos, brumbies and deer are common
obstacles. A less obvious danger came
from the livestock I met as I moved through
various pockets of private property. I
had a couple of very close encounters
with agitated cattle, terrified at the
strange illuminated figure on a bicycle.
Occasionally I stopped, removed my
helmet and had a chat to these creatures.
More often than not, they soon realized
that I was not an alien life form and
relaxed enough for me to scoot by.
Endurance riding changes the shape
of your body. Fifteen years of distance
riding and my Achilles tendons have never
protested. Not a murmur. Nothing. After
five days on the Cloudride and I was in real
trouble. On the sixth day, I pedalled along
expecting to hear the awful sound of a
snapping tendon. I made some adjustments
to my seat height, but it was too little, too
late. I essentially rode the last 400 kilometres
dosed up on anti-inflammatories and with
only one leg providing any real power on
the climbs. When that leg got tired, I walked.
Mercifully the severity of the terrain started to
ease. I enjoyed some relatively easy spinning
on quiet back roads through Delegate and
Bombala. A return to hike-a-bike came on
the way to Nimmitabel, but the serenity of the
Tantawangalo forest more than made up for
the temporary hardship.
The final day came with mixed emotions.
I rode in fading light through Kowen Forest
on the outskirts of Canberra. I watched my
last sunset knowing that a very demanding,
intense and rewarding experience was
coming to an end. Encountering car traffic
came as a real shock to the senses. After
nearly nine days, I had returning to real life.
Through a heavy veil of fatigue, I posed for a
photograph in front of the leader board. I had
a sore Achilles tendon, sore hands and sore
backside. I had holes in my shoes from all the
hike-a-biking. I had gorged on trucker-sized
meals at every opportunity, yet I still finished
three-kilograms lighter. But I was a Cloudrider.
Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.
Invigorating. Exhausting. Thrilling. Brutally
challenging. The Monaro Cloudride might just
be the best ride I’ve done.
Daniel rides and writes out of Canberra. He
is the author of Oppy: the life of Sir
Hubert Opperman.
MONARO CLOUDRIDE