A "wee" weekend away....

Sometimes you need to take a risk and get right out of your comfort zone, but sometimes it's also good to remain in the dark about what you are letting yourself in for. I can't really decide if the former or the latter is a better description of the bike ride I found myself on the other day.

I had been feeling a bit "meh" about running and so one of my Trotter mates suggested I go on a weekend bike ride with a group of likeminded people as a change. I was rather worried about joining the group as I'm no great shakes on a bike and I think that the furthest I've ridden without a break is about 50k, and even that was a while ago.......so I was worried about being the annoying slowcoach that everyone had to keep waiting for and hence ruined the trip. My friend persuaded me that I'd be fine as I had "running endurance" and that it was just meant to be a fun trip away with no pressure of speed or times, so (with some trepidation remaining in my heart) I packed an overnight bag and we cycled down to the meeting point on Saturday morning.

The "starters"

Having slung my backpack in a car and successfully hidden behind others in the pre-event photos, we set off. It started off as a nice social chatty ride and so I wondered what I had been worried out, but then I did hear a few warning signs, such as when the guys cycling along behind me talked about it being a nice gentle pace that they could easily sustain and how far they usually cycle.....or when the guy I was chatting to told me that he was "just doing the 80k option", ie turning round at 40K.....if that was "just" 80K, then how far was I meant to be going??? He also instructed me in some cycling etiquette, eg about always passing on the outside, not overlapping wheels....and told me that unless I learned how to "draft" I wouldn't make it!! That wasn't the most confidence-inspiring thing to say, as I am incredibly nervous about crashing, as I have broken both legs coming off bikes (and one time was due to someone cutting me up and taking out my wheel) and so I like to have my own space and see clearly where I'm going and any upcoming obstacles - the antithesis of drafting!

I was initially lulled into a false sense of security by the size of the group, and by the fact that other people got punctures, as these things meant that I wasn't ever at the back....and was even one of the people that had to wait for others, though there were a couple of faster riders that didn't seem to be so much "team players" and kept riding off. I actually think it may have been one of these cyclists that caused our first major drama of the trip, cutting past another guy on his inside so he wobbled and ended up sliding off the road into a ditch and hurting himself with various open skin cuts and grazes. He seemed to be fairly OK (well nothing was broken anyway) so I was told that as one of the slowest there, I should just keep going, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the next section was rather a nightmare for me. It should have been a lovely coast down some sweeping hills into Swansea and whilst we were on a major road it was fairly wide and had a decent surface, but unfortunately by this point in time the heavens had well and truly opened! Not only did I find it almost impossible to see where I was going due to the rain, but the cars and trucks shooting past were also spraying up fountains of water, people were coming on and off the road to my right and left, and I feared that any sudden action on my brakes would send me skidding across the tarmac like Bambi on ice. Clearly I was alone in my fears, as everyone shot past me while I just clung on for dear life, trying not to swear or cry but at least I made it to the bottom safely and to our regrouping point (ie another snack stop for me) at the start of the Fernleigh Track.

On the road....

The Fernleigh felt like familiar territory for me as I raced the NSW 15K champs along it in 2019, though I don't remember it being as downhill a run as the ride felt uphill! I was cycling along next to the guy who'd had the earlier accident and he said that one of the cuts he'd suffered was right across the front of his knee and that he felt it was opening up with every pedal stroke so he thought he'd probably stop when we got to the ferry in Newcastle (yeay....well boo for him.....but yeay for me, as that meant that as long as I could keep going to that point, I wouldn't be the first to DNF :-) ). One of the 2 other girls on the ride got another couple of punctures on this section, so again I wasn't actually last as we headed into Newcastle. The girl that was the likely culprit for the accident, again showed her disregard for anyone on the road apart from herself as she cut across cars and almost caused a major accident by ignoring traffic lights and stop signs in the busy street of downtown Newcastle. Despite these dramas, we made it to the ferry safe and sound, but the extra time taken meant that instead of a sit down feed, I was still trying to drink my takeaway coffee and eat my slab of delicious hot buttered banana bread whilst wheeling my bike onto the boat for the short crossing to Stockton (though it was hard not to think of it as Gateshead, being just across the river from Newcastle!!).

The crossing only took a few minutes and then we all cycled off round the streets of Stockton together. After a few kilometres we were onto the open roads heading towards the airport and the "peloton" spread out into various small groups. I was accompanied by Elissa on this stretch and so we had a lovely sociable chatty ride trading very very bad jokes (and singing appallingly). We pulled into our next pitstop having just ticked over the 100K mark and I did comment that it had taken way less time than I would take to run 100K but that I was probably a lot better at running the distance than riding it. A couple of guys were finishing their ride for the day here, and so they hopped off their bikes and into the two cars that had been accompanying us, whilst the two that had driven up that point jumped out and onto their bikes. Luckily (or unluckily as it meant that I no longer had an excuse to stop), one of the guys offered to lend me his back wheel as he wasn't going to be cycling any further that day. My bike had been making some very strange noises up until that point, and  one of the guys who has much more bike-knowledge than me (admittedly it isn't hard to know more than nothing!!) diagnosed that the bearings in my back wheel had gone, hence it had been complaining and wobbling around for the whole ride up until that point.

My hands were already starting to protest - and this is how they ended up!!!

The next section of the ride started rather scarily as we had to cross the main highway between Sydney and Brisbane to get to the shoulder on the far side and then cycle up it. I was definitely flagging by this point, not just because of my lack of cycle fitness, but because my lack of confidence on the bike means that I am too scared to take my hands off my handlebars (and brakes) and so I cannot eat and drink whilst cycling. On a positive note, the road surface was good, it was only gently undulating and the verge was nice and wide so my friend Darren could cycle with me to keep me going, and we could safely fit side by side and not feel endangered by all the trucks passing by. We stopped in a layby/picnic area so that I could have a little feeding break and sit down, which really helped me make it to the "official" lunch stop at Bulahdelah where there were "real shops".

Mark post-Bulahdelah-dismount!

I was so excited to be able to go straight to the little supermarket and buy ice cream, chocolate and coke and then have a sit down to chat with the others - some of the stories were great, such as one guy cramping up so badly that he literally fell off his bike on arrival there, and then lying down and falling fast asleep as soon as he'd had his lunch. Unfortunately, although some of them had been there for a good 20 minutes longer than us, we'd only been there for 10 minutes before one of the others said "right, that's a long enough break, let's hit the road", which definitely caused me to swear and mutter under my breath that it was alright for her, as she was one who'd just got out of a car and started riding! The road got much hillier from Bulahdelah onwards and it was starting to get really hot, so I wasn't exactly enjoying it. One of my problems is definitely my stubbornness, so rather than give up and hitch a ride in one of the cars, I just kept going....though I did find it rather hard to cycle and cry at the same time!

How far??!!!

Darren stuck with me the whole time, and though I really worried that I was ruining his ride for him, he assured em that he didn't mind what speed he went as it was just about enjoying the trip and spending time in the saddle (well, it was certainly more time with me than if he'd been going it alone!). One of the guys in the cars kept pulling into laybys until we passed just top make sure that we were OK which was lovely of him, but at the next meeting point, I suggested that he could then go ahead as we were "almost" there and I reckoned I'd just about manage it. The meeting point was a famous cherry pie shop but they were just closing up as Darren and I arrived. Thankfully they stayed open long enough to give us cokes and luminous blue slushy drinks (which soon had us both clutching our eyes/temples with ice cream headaches) and we were soon on our way again.

On arrival at Forster, on hearing I had to climb the stairs...

I got a second wind as I felt that the end was in sight.....well, at least the turn off from the highway was....and the last section went on and on. It was much quieter traffic-wise once we'd left the highway, but the road surface was also much worse....and the road seemed to consist of never ending corners and undulations. Eventually we saw houses and found ourselves cycling down the main street of Tuncurry. We almost witnessed a major accident as a car pulled out across the traffic ahead of us, right into the path of an oncoming van, but luckily disaster was averted and we carried on up onto the bridge over to Forster. A slight detour round the streets of Forster and we'd finally arrived, just before the heavens opened with a torrential downpour of rain. I got off my bike and lay down on the pavement, only to be told that I was staying in an upstairs room and had to carry my bike up to it....but once this was done, it was finally time to wash, relax, go to the pub and the famous ice cream shop that it was the only reason I'd agreed to the ride. It was amazing, but I'm not sure that I would ever cycle over 220Km for an ice cream again!

Hurrah for ice cream!!!

I had wondered if my "broken wheel" would get me out of the ride home, but (unfortunately?) 2 of the guys that had arranged to carshare and do half of the ride each, kindly offered me the use of one of their wheels when they weren't riding.....so I had to zip up my mansuit and get on with it (after the obligatory early morning cafe trip before we hit the road). The road back to the highway seemed an awful lot better when you hadn't already ridden almost 200km, and I felt much less guilty about being at the back of the group, as I had offered to drop out on several occasions if I was slowing everyone down. Darren stuck with me at the back again, and as it turned out, every time we got to a regroup area, there was at least one other splinter group who'd dropped off the pace and arrived not long before us. My cycling (a bit like my running) is dependent on food, so I was glad that we had ordered ahead for our "second breakfast" at Bulahdelah and then were handed doughnuts or crisps etc by the support cars at other breakpoints.

The morning cafe crowd

3 people stopped 100K into this second day but I decided to carry on a bit further  - in for a penny, in for a pound - but then came to regret this not long afterwards. The stretch out to the airport (which I'd quite enjoyed on the way up) was horrendous. It probably wasn't as bad for the group ahead - not just because they're much stronger cyclists than me, but because they could take it turns to act as windbreaks for each other - but I found that at times I was making almost no headway along the road as the wind in my face was so strong. I didn't even have the breath to swear, but I could not think of a single enjoyable thing about that stretch of ride.....and at one point even had a sit down protest (and a chocolate bar) at the side of the road!! Poor Darren....having to put up with me....especially when my temper frayed a bit more as he couldn't quite remember the route to the ferry, so we did an extra tour of the streets of Stockton! Big apologies are obviously due!

Getting on with it...

After the ferry I knew it wasn't far to the Fernleigh Track which would be sheltered, so I decided to pedal there and reassess, and as the Track was more downhill than uphill, I was even talked into going a bit further than that (despite another girl dropping out). The back car kept checking up on us and I managed to keep going all the way up the hills out of Swansea and past Catherine Hill Bay before finally calling it a day at Lake Munmorah. It was starting to get late now and I felt that whatever he said, Darren had given up so much of the enjoyment of his ride to stick with me (payback for talking me into it?) that he'd appreciate getting his head down and powering along the last few kms. There wasn't that far left to go, but this way meant that we got back in time for the "Finishers' Photo" before everyone else headed off home.....which I then had to do on my bike - talk about a glutton for punishment!!

"Finishers"

My stubbornness had really proved itself that weekend but although I was rather knackered, I was quietly proud of myself for not quitting (or not quitting earlier anyway!)....and surprisingly enough, it wasn't my legs that showed the most damage from the weekend but my poor hands, as despite having worn cycling gloves, it took weeks for the blisters on the palms of my hands to settle....which shows how much I was clinging on for dear life I guess!! Oh well Sally....it may be a while before you get another ride out....and so I may take a long time fixing your wheel to give me a decent excuse for refusing any more cycling invites!!

"Sunday Runs"

The Trotters arrange a few Sunday runs which are really more like social events as you can choose to start early or with the main group, and run as fast or as slowly as you like, and there are aid stations provided along the way with fruit, lollies (sweets to the Brits) and water/coke. As it happened, there were two arranged for early January, a week apart, which involved running a lap around Brisbane Water, but the first one was clockwise on the roads, and the second one was anticlockwise and more on trails. As long as the club organisers knew about it, people could start and stop at different points along the route - so that if you only had a narrow time window, or if you just wanted to run a shorter distance, then you were still able to take part. 

Some of the girls wanted to start earlier and run slower but a 5am kick-off was plenty early enough for me, especially as I was picking up my friend Katie to go there as we'd agreed to run the whole way together as it was to be here longest run since 2013 (ie since starting her family). We met another friend Jackie at the start area (only just spotting each other in the darkness) and then panicked because the nearby toilets were still locked for the night. Finding something open for that last minute "panic-pee" meant that we missed the group start and so headed off just the three of us. We decided that we didn't need headtorches as there was enough light along the main road, and sure enough, it didn't take long for the dawn light to be on us. We started straight up a hill by the side of the main road, but there was little traffic at that time on a Sunday morning so it felt quiet enough. We felt that we'd only just gotten started when we got to the first aid station but as we were about to run on, Brian (who was manning it) chastised us that he'd got out of bed early especially for us, so we took a drink and I grabbed some jelly snakes despite the fact that they were rather sticky due to the damp air. 

The route was rather hillier than I'd expected and I was finding it harder than I expected to keep up the pace that Jackie was setting, but she does say that she always goes off rather too fast. Still, it was lovely to be able to chat (or "gasp" on the hills) as we trotted along. I wouldn't have wanted to run that route later in the day as there were places with no footpath and a minimal verge blocked with overhanging bushes....which felt rather unsafe when it was on the inside of a tight corner....but luckily Jackie knew the road well and would warn us in advance when we needed to drop into single file and hug the edges.

With Katie and Jackie

We must have started further behind the main group than we thought....or else they were all going along at some fair pace....as we didn't see anyone else out running for ages. Eventually Julie came into sight ahead of us, and we finally caught her up at the next aid station (where Katie discovered the joys of coke to give you a boost on a long run). We had wondered why we hadn't yet seen Monika (who was out on her bike supporting us all as she is only just coming back from an injury so felt the distance was too much for her as yet), but it turned out that Julie hadn't realised we were behind her so had sent Mon ahead to look for us. 

After running across a grassy playing field with Julie we were back onto the main road that rings Brisbane Water - Jackie reassured Katie that we'd covered most of the hills already but we were just approaching a "little kick-up". All I can say is that if that was a little kick up, then I dread to see what Jackie would refer to as a "hill", as the climb dragged on and on, and on rounding a corner we still weren't at the top!! Having finally gone "over the top" I did remember how much I'd struggled to cycle up it when going the other way, and thought that a cyclist I saw pushing their bike definitely had the better idea. Unfortunately, as "the cyclist" came closer we saw that there were actually two people walking up towards us, and one of them was our friend Max who'd had to pull out of the run due to a flare-up of an old groin injury - which was gutting for him, as he was also only just getting back into it. 

On the bike path

Soon after that Mon finally found us, having been sent forward and backwards along the road with noone really knowing exactly where we were. She updated us on how the girls were doing further up the road - 2 of them had stuck together and one was running ahead, and then offered us various delicacies from the assorted buffet she was carrying on her bike. I am now a big fan of a "popper" (what the Aussies call a carton of juice) on the run - as you can pierce the foil with the tip of the straw and then squeeze it to drink as you carry on running, without spilling it everywhere - bonus! As we had a travelling support crew for a little way, we just waved and continued rather than stopping at the next aid station (it might've been too tempting for Jackie not to go home if we had done so, as it was just along the road from her house). 

We completed the final section of verge running (ie no footpaths) and reassured Katie that she'd broken the back of the run, both in terms of being over halfway in distance and having done almost all of the hills (a fact that was backed up by the fact that we took a detour off the main road to cut out the steepest hill in this section....and visit another aid station with watermelon - yeay!!). That was about the point when we switched over from Jackie's "home turf" to my "home turf" and I could describe every bit of the upcoming route in detail as we were within a couple of kms of my house.  

The girls were starting to tire now so I was starting to check my running....it's funny how it happens but you naturally seems to pick up the pace when you're near home, and to be fair, the area around where I live is as flat as a pancake and so the pace naturally picks up. I could see that Katie was finding it tougher so I tried to be a good tour guide and point things out en route, and give her little targets to aim for, eg the end of the WoyWoy parkrun course, the boat wharf, my rellies' house (we waved up at the deck as we ran along the road below). Jackie's plan was to meet her husband at the 30K mark and stop there....and though she kept telling us to go on ahead, we stuck together until the exact 30K point, whereupon she stopped dead and said she'd walk to where he'd parked up round the corner.  

Katie and I running into the finish

Fair play to Katie - although she was tired, she didn't stop running at all from there to the finish, though she did stop talking. We passed a couple of runners who'd started earlier than us, and got some jelly snakes and cheers from Marg at the final aid station which spurred her on for a wee bit. Poor Katie - she had offered for me to go on ahead as I was full of beans, but there was no way I wasn't going to finish with her, so unfortunately she had to put up with my chatter and urging her on all the way back to where we'd started. It must've worked as she finished with a big smile on her face....and only just behind the fastest 3 ladies on the day - awesome work!!! 

The 5:20 chicks afterwards :-)

The next weekend was the Brisbane Water Bush Bash - which was a longer distance (and harder work) as it involved the trails around Brisbane Water and went in an anticlockwise direction. This time, I was running alone as the other girls dropped out of the event for various reasons. It was actually really fun to start as a group (yes....at 5am again!!) as it was like a Coast to Kosci reunion - 4 of us had run it this year and there were also 2 there that had been part of people's support crews. Although the sun was not yet up, we'd decided against carrying head torches and so were rather glad that the first 5 or so kms was along the cycle path round the lake (the exact route - in reverse - that we'd run to finish on the previous Sunday).  

Dawn by the water at Point Clare

When we got to Point Clare we headed away from the water and straight up a steep climb (including lots of steps) into the bush and up to the ridgeline "Koolewong fire trail".  The reward for this climb was some amazing views as the sun came up......and it didn't seem like too hard a run so far as we stopped so many times for photo and "comfort" breaks. It was quite funny to run along chatting to Jochan (who is fondly known as the skinniest pastry chef in Sydney) and then see it dawn on him (after about an hour) that I had also been at C2K, as I hadn't realised that he hadn't recognised me :-) I hadn't been up on that trail for months and months and it wasn't quite as rough and ready as I'd remembered, as the really steep dirt track that kept being washed away in heavy rains had been concreted over. It was still crazily steep to descend, but just slightly safer underfoot!

On Meditation Rock above Koolewong

Unfortunately the bit of the run that I was dreading was the terrifying descent back down to the waterfront by Spike Milligan bridge. There's a reason the Strava segment is called "slip 'n' slide" - not only is the gradient ridiculous, but the rocks/gravel underfoot is dangerously loose. The usual male vs female descent happened as the guys disengaged their brains and shot down it, whilst I was much more delicate with my girlie arms flailing and my overwhelming need to hug trees to prevent a significant injury! At least the flat cycle path we rejoined at the bottom meant I could then catch up again, so we all ran into the first "aid station" at WoyWoy together again, and competed over who could eat the most jelly snakes and lollies (clearly I won!!!). 

You have to love a "group runfie"!

One of the guys didn't want to stop and chat with the rest of us so he carried straight on from Woy Woy on his own but the rest of us set off in our little pack again and soon caught him up. I lost the guys as we all had different places of choice for our next toilet break and so really wasn't sure if they were ahead or behind me. I decided to just run my own pace and see what happened as I guess that I am more used to running alone than with company, but as I crossed over the Rip Bridge and headed towards the next fire trail (a climb so steep that I was walking again!) I couldn't see anyone either ahead or behind me - "No Man's Land"! 

By the time I got to the next aid station, I had passed a couple of others who'd started at WoyWoy as they didn't want to do the whole loop and they told me that they hadn't seen anyone else on the road which surprised me....and made me slightly anxious as that aid station was the limit of my knowledge of the route. There was some lovely watermelon at the aid station so I wolfed it down and then set off again "down the track" as instructed....only to be called back as it was "not that track". It turns out that they'd set up slightly off the route so you had to double back on yourself before heading along a beautiful section of trail that undulated through the trees (the only negative point about this section was that the cicadas were so loud I worried that I might actually go deaf!!!).  

After crossing the main road and starting the steep descent down into Little Valley, the map on my watch appeared to make little sense so I got out my good old fashioned paper maps to work out which way to go (and wanted to say "I told you so" to everyone who'd laughed at me at the start for being old fashioned and having proper printed maps with me). I found the right turning but was slightly put off by a man walking up the trail who commented that he didn't know how I'd get out at the bottom as a local resident had blocked off the trail, for reasons only known to him. Luckily, some other kind locals had made a tiny single track trail through the bush and placed a plank over a creek so there was a detour available, but when I finally came out onto a paved road, I did have to consult my maps again to make sure that I was still heading in the right direction (as it can be very disorienting to follow a tiny winding trail in thick bush). 

The road section that followed seemed long and hot but I knew that I wasn't too far away from Kincumber, where my friend Monika was going to jump in and join me for the last 17kms or so. Unfortunately I still had a couple of wrong turnings to take before then - one on a minor road meaning I took a tour of the sewage plant, and one heading the wrong way on some muddy trail - maps to the rescue again, even if they were getting rather bedraggled and dogeared by this time. I couldn't have been running too badly though as I still hadn't seen another soul...and even Monika wasn't waiting where I expected her to be, though I admit that could easily have been me getting the meeting location wrong. A few minutes later a familiar car drove by and I spotted Mon in the passenger seat waving, so they pulled over she jumped out, handed me some food and carried on with me....honestly, I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd done a commando roll out of the car and then started running....though I would have spoilt it by almost immediately starting to walk up the long hill :-) 

Reunited with Mon, my running buddy xx

It was so nice to be running with Mon again (she's recovering from a stress fracture so has had to have some time off) as I think that we run at a fairly similar pace (though I was very conscious of it being painfully slow for her as I was rather tired/hot/over it by this point). We "climbed" Kincumber Mountain, arriving at the aid station just at the volunteers got there. One lady said that if we hung around for a while she'd get things out for us, but I had enough treats in my back so was happy to wait just long enough for them to get the water out for a refill of my flasks and then carry on. Unfortunately neither Mon nor I really knew the way on the multiple crisscrossing trails on the mountain, and it was really hard to work out which way to go from the maps, so we probably added an extra km or so in by missing a hairpin junction and then having to work our way back along tiny mountain bike trails. We passed another couple of Trotters who were also unsure of the turnings so it was reassuring to note that being geographically challenged is a common trait.  

After popping back out into residential streets I was so happy to be on the "run for home" even though there was probably still more than 10K to go. It was really hot and humid and so not that conducive to enjoying the running any more, but areas of shade made a massive difference, so I just focussed on getting to the next trail section (Rumbalara). The streets became more familiar as we got into usual "Saturday Trotter Run" territory, though I did wonder how much extra we'd added on when we caught back up to the same couple that we'd passed on Kincumber Mountain (it turns out that they'd taken a different wrong turning and actually cut several kms off their run!).  

Getting to the high point in Rumbalara

The final road (and then trail) climb into Rumbalara was a big effort, but once we'd topped out it was so nice to start running again knowing that all the tough sections were beyond us. Monika commented on how well I was still moving, but I think I'd just perked up a lot as I could almost smell the food and drinks at the finish. "Almost" was the operative word as the final section was a lot longer (and had many more steps) than I'd remembered, but we finally came back out into downtown Gosford and "sprinted" down the hill to the park where I'd started all those hours ago. Having finished, I could now appreciate what a brilliant morning of running I'd had, and the added bonus to finishing over an hour in front of the next guys, was that I could eat and drink all the food and drink provided to my heart's content!!

Yummmmmm to the finish food!

Beyond the Black Stump

“Beyond the Black Stump” is a phrase that I’ve heard (along with “Out Woop Woop” etc ) to mean “in the remote outback” so when I heard of a New Year’s Day run with the same name, I was intrigued. I gathered that it had been a staple run on the calendar for many years and so there was usually a decent crew of runners heading down from the Central Coast to do it, along with many Sydneysiders. 

Beyond the Black Stump Route

For various reasons, many of the usual suspects decided not to run it this year, so there was a much smaller presence than usual, not helped by the fact that people were starting at various times, depending on how long they thought the run would take them (though I guess the fact that people started at various different times does fit with Covid precautions). 

A few people I knew were setting off at 6am but that seemed far too early for the 1st of January (especially as it was a rather drizzly day so there was no pressure to get back before it got too hot and sunny) so there were just 5 of us that headed off from Berowra Community Hall at 7am. 

The very start of the route winds through hilly undulating streets - and we did take the odd wrong turn or two, but luckily, one the of the men running was a local guy and so he kept us right, and so we soon got onto the muddy firetrail through Berowra Bushland Park. After a few kms we turned onto the single track of the Great North Walk route which ducked up and down, weaving round trees, rocks and various slopes but did give us some nice views out over the creek to our left. We were heading to the ferry at Berowra Waters, but the trail was one of those deceptively windy ones, so that everytime you got a glimpse of where you were going to and thought that you were almost there, you'd weave away from it again :-) 

The ferry is an interesting ride as it runs 24 hours a day, 365 days a year (with a 2 hour down period every month for maintenance) and is free. The creek is only about 200m across, but the ferry runs on demand for cars and so you are never sure whether you will have to wait until you are actually there by the water's edge. Two of the guys were "just" doing the 15K run option so they didn't cross the creek but carried on along the circular route back to Berowra, but the other 3 of us enjoyed the views (such as they were on such a grey day) as we rode over. 

On the ferry going over

During the first section of the run, I had found that I had to run relatively hard to keep up with the guys (why do men always start their runs fast and fade later? testosterone or something?) but once we got off the ferry we had over 3km of constant uphill on a sealed road, and roles became reversed as I had to consciously hold back as I could hear them puffing and panting so that we could all run together. There was no pavement and no grass verge but luckily there was also almost no traffic.

 

As we neared the top of the climb, we passed some ladies walk/running up it who'd started a good half an hour ahead of us, and then some of the 6am starters pounded past making the most of the long downhill back to the ferry! After turning off the main road, we ran along the tarmac until it ran out and turned into another firetrail....and then just carried on along said firetrail, until we left all signs of civilisation again and were back in the bush. 

This 4km of firetrail seemed a lot further as there were some rather steep descents interspersed with flatter sections and a couple of small climbs, but the run was broken up by greeting all the runners we now met coming the other way. There was no way to get lost as the trail just carried on with almost no branching until it finished at the "Ruined Castle of Calabash" - which is not exactly much of a castle by European standards!!! 

The official turnaround is by touching any part of the ruin (so we clearly had to go to the furthest part) and then we returned to the ferry by the same route we'd just come. It was a slightly less sociable run back up the firetrail as although Jay and I were running and chatting together, Darren (who'd started by leading the way and setting the pace from Berowra) now kept dropping back, so we waited for him at the top of each incline. I thought that he might pick up his pace once we reached the flat tarmac again but I still ended up waiting to check that everything was OK when we reached the main road again. 

Touching the "ruined castle"!

I knew we'd be able to all catch up as we waited for the ferry at the bottom so I let my legs go on the long downhill run there which was quite fun. The only issue was the lack of pavement and the blind corners. Each time I thought I must be rounding the last corner down to the ferry/cafe, another one appeared, but luckily there were few bikes out and even fewer cars, so I could enjoy the tranquility of the empty round and the beauty of all the overhanging trees. 

Although it was starting to drizzle, it was also rather humid so we refilled out waterbottles once we were off the ferry and then turned the opposite direction to the way from which we'd come earlier. The paved road became a bush track (again part of the Great North Walk) but by this time there were more people out stretching their legs and wishing each other Happy New Year. One lady surprised me by telling me that I "looked amazing" after I wished them well for 2021, which was lovely to hear, but I suspect far from the truth!! 

The single track then turned away from the creek up some steps and into a very steep climb (hands were necessary to haul yourself up in places). For Jay and I it was like the blind leading the blind, as neither of us had run here before and Darren had dropped back again. We figured that although we were winding back and forth, we must be going in the right direction as we hadn't spotted any turnoffs, and once we crested the ridge, we did descend down to a creek and then climb up the other side again, as the route description had promised. 

We knew that we must "avoid following the Great North Walk" turning to the left towards Cowan but that was about as much of a clue as we had as to where to go. Luckily we started to catch up with more of the early runners and so this reassured us that we were going in the right direction. On reaching the top of the second climb, I appeared to have also lost Jay, but by this time it was actually raining and so I just wanted to get back to Berowra as I knew there would be shelter there so that I could wait for the others to finish. 

Refuelling at Pie in The Sky

The run finished with rather a long section on road, but a lady we'd chatted to on the ferry (who actually remembered seeing me finishing C2K as she was out walking there with her husband!!) drove past me and reassured me that I was going the right way. When I got back to the Community Hall, there were several other Terrigal Trotters hanging around and chatting there as they'd been part of the early contingent, so although it was nice to catch up with them, we started to get rather cold and so, as soon as the others had finished, we all drove to Pie in The Sky for very welcome hot pies and coffee. We all agreed that it was a great way to start the year!

The return of parkrun....

It seems very weird not to have done a parkrun since I was in the UK back in February, ie before Coronavirus hit, but I have watched with interest as they have gradually restarted in various parts of the world - first in NZ and then in the various Australian states and territories.

Understandably Tasmania was one of the first to reopen and NSW would be one of the last (further delayed in many places by another small outbreak the weekend they were due to recommence), so it was quite exciting to think about attending one on my recent visit to Tassie.

I started off my trip staying with my friend Iestyn just south of Hobart and as I was there on a Saturday morning, we made the trip to his local course at Kingston Park parkrun (not to be confused with Kingston parkrun in London that I ran many moons ago). I knew that I wasn’t really recovered from my epic ultra a fortnight before, but I didn’t quite expect to feel so lethargic and plodgy as he showed me the route on a warmup trot. 

Wearing the stripy socks to be with the
 5:20 chicks in spirit for their fancy dress run

The route is slightly under 5K, but I guess you make up for that by having to do 6 x 180 degree turns during the run, and though it gently undulates, there are no taxing hills. I started relatively far back and so by the time we rounded the first tree to double back on ourselves off the grass and onto the path, I was behind about 50 runners including kids and buggies. All the turns (the route itself is vaguely a “Y” shape with you doing the first bit twice) meant that you got to see the speedsters at the sharp end of the field, and there seemed to be a good tussle on right at the front between a fast guy and an amazing lady. Iestyn himself wasn’t that far behind them either. 

Making it look like hard work!

I gradually worked my way up the field, overtaking many younger runners (and the buggy) and though I felt like I was going to have to stop on many occasions, closing people down gave me the motivation to keep going. I couldn’t make up the distance on the two guys that were in sight, but was very happy to finish with the position token 007 in a ladies V40 record time (the leading lady finished second overall and set a massive new ladies CR, with Iestyn also running a PB on the course so it was a good run all round).

Christmas Day is one day of the year that all countries are allowed to stage an extra parkrun (Coronavirus notwithstanding) and as I was staying in Launceston for Christmas and was up before anyone else (an early morning chat with my sister’s family over my Christmas breakfast and their Christmas Eve meal will do that!!), I decided to venture down to Launceston parkrun. Initially I had difficulty in finding how to get to the start, but luckily had plenty of time, and even chatted to another Christmas waif/stray (I recognised the Kirribilli Runners’ vest) who was visiting town from Sydney.

NSW refugees at parkrun

This course was the correct distance but was much flatter and faster than Kingston. The first km was on a trail along a flat levee by the North Esk river and then we ran down off the levee and proceeded to do a clockwise loop of the Heritage Forest along flat firetrails/paths. I had (as usual) moved up past many people along the levee and was in about 4th place as we started round the loop. Unfortunately, the lead runner was out of sight and just as I caught the two guys ahead of me we hit a bifurcation of the trail. With none of us being local, we weren’t sure which way to go, and someone had forgotten to put out the guiding cones (there were marshals of every other junction). We slowed, hesitated for a  brief time and then headed off to the right, and I was very relieved to then spot the “2km” marker post.

"Sprinting" back along the levee

After completing the loop, it was then a case of heading back to the levee and trying to look good running up the slope onto it (as the tailwalkers/runners were still coming out the other way), and then fighting the headwind for the last km back to the finish (why is it that you never feel as much benefit from a tailwind going out as you feel punishment from a headwind going back?). I was over the moon to finish second in what was a good time (for me) and although it was several minutes behind what some ladies have run on that course, it was still a LV40 record :-)

On Boxing Day morning, I’d had a rather broken night but didn’t seem capable of a lie in, so as it was a Saturday morning, I again headed off in search of a parkrun. I had planned on jogging over to a trail-type of course nearby, but found it rather an effort so I mainly walked over there but still got rather hot and sweaty. It was nice to catch up with Amy and her partner Jono there, as I’d gotten to know them a bit over the course of the C2K run three weeks beforehand. Unlike me (as I’ve found a lack of motivation to do much as my body recovers from the Ultra), Amy said that she was enjoying running again but found it hard to do intervals/efforts as her legs were still lacking that “zip” (I’m not sure mine ever had any!!!).

She still set off like a bat out of hell as the run started down a firetrail dotted with various rocks and roots to take out unwary runners, and soon disappeared off into the distance out of sight. The course was definitely a tough one as it was on mountain bike trails so mainly undulating single track with twists, turns and lots of tree roots and boulders. I didn’t think I’d be making up many places during that run as you couldn’t get into a rhythm due to little scrambles and always having to be very alert as to where you were placing your feet (it appears that almost every week, someone takes a tumble!).

A good C2K catch-up

I was surprised to pass a lad that had been part of Amy’s C2K support crew on a wider stretch with about a km to go……though he was blaming it on his Christmas pudding from the day before. I guess he thought I would try to chase Amy down but I was more than happy for her to take the victory and mentioned it was “all about the age grading” - teeheehee…….there have to be some benefits to getting old!

Surprisingly enough, she did actually come into sight as I reeled her in unintentionally and I actually caught her with about 500m to go (along with a young orienteer lad who’d set off rather too fast and his stomach was rebelling!) and so (although that last 500m seemed to take forever as the single track wound up and around away from the finish before finally heading back to it), again I managed to cross the line in second place (Jono was long finished) and although it seemed a rather slow time, this time I managed to claim the overall ladies’ CR and age graded record……not a bad effort but it mean I needed lots of ice cream to recover before flying back to NSW!

The Three Capes Track

The lovely 5:20 chicks (my running buddies from Terrigal trotters) have tentatively arranged a long weekend away next year to go and hike the Three Capes Track in South East Tasmania. When you do the official hike, you start with a boat ride from Port Arthur and finish 4 days later by catching a bus shuttle from Fortescue Bay back to Port Arthur. During the hike you stay overnight in huts which are equipped with sleeping mattresses and cooking equipment (the hut on the second night even has hot showers) so all you have to carry is your clothes, food and a sleeping bag….and probably more clothes as you don’t often get several consecutive dry days in Tassie.

Whenever I visit my friend Iestyn, he always has a fun running adventure planned for me, and so when he suggested a modification of the Three Capes Track I jumped at the opportunity, even though I really wasn’t sure that I would manage to get round it so soon after C2K. Although he has run it many times, the distance measured by a running watch is always rather variable so I knew it would be anything up to a marathon distance, though not on “usual” marathon terrain.

Fortescue Bay

We left the car at Fortescue Bay and headed out along the “Old Cape Pillar Track”, which was fairly rough underfoot as it gradually ascended away from the coast, but generally quite runnable. Well, when I say “runnable” I mean it would be if you weren’t feeling rather heavy legged and tired, but I managed to keep up with Iestyn of sorts….usually by trying to ask him questions which required longer answers (teeheehee).

Heading off up the Old Cape Pillar Track

After about 8km, we joined the official walking route and headed out along the out and back section towards Cape Pillar. We passed a few campsites and then reached Munro Hut (the one with the hot showers). It was built in a beautiful location and hence was a great place to stop and admire the views and take a few pictures  though we soon carried on along our way. We’d hardly seen a soul up to this point, but expected to start seeing hikers after this point as they would leave their packs at this hut and go out to Cape Pillar and back, before picking up their gear to carry on to that night’s lodging. 

The view from Munro Hut

It was amazing to see the effort that had been put into the route’s infrastructure - as there was a section of boardwalk that started not far from the hut that was about 2.5km long. It was decorated at one end with a snake’s head and therefore the other end finished in a tail with the phrase “my blood runs cold” written into it. The undulating gradient of the boardwalk wasn’t bad but it was liberally strewn with steps that were all just the wrong length to be able to run up or down them easily, so I couldn’t get into a rhythm at all. As we ran along the cliff tops, the views across to Tasman Island just got better and better, but just as Iestyn promised, the best one was after we had climbed up the steep rock formation known as The Blade.

On The Blade!

View from The Blade towards Tasman Island

On descending The Blade we continued on a newer track extension down and up to Cape Pillar itself, admiring some of the benches that Tasmanian artists had sculpted after being airlifted in to see where the benches were to be positioned. 

Tasman Island

We then turned tail and wound our way 8km back along the way we’d just come to the original junction with the Old Cape Pillar Track (spotting an echidna and a tiger snake along the way……as well as filling up with much needed water when we passed Munro Hut again).

Such a cute surprise!

Slightly windier when we revisited Munro Hut

Iestyn had promised me that it was only about another km or so from this junction to Retakunna Hut and that we would stop and eat our sandwiches there…….and as I was absolutely starving I certainly picked up the pace knowing a break and a feed was coming up. We were the only people at the hut at that time of day, so had the choice of the picnic tables, and watched as the Rangers brought supplies in by helicopter (though unfortunately they didn’t have any cake on them…..and yes, I did ask!!).

An easier way out from Retakunna Hut?

The weather had been much hotter and sunnier than forecast up to this point, but luckily it now clouded over considerably and the wind also picked up, as we had a long slog up Mount Fortescue to do (though the summit was only 490m above sea level). As we popped over the top, I was secretly quite relieved to see that Iestyn was also getting rather tired by this point but we knew that we were on the homeward stretch by now (or almost….as there was still another out and back to go). One thing that really amazed we all the way round the track was the variety in the flora…..some dry eucalypts, some open grassland, some cloud forest etc…..it was always changing!

Some of the views en route...

We came to another junction in the track with a clearing containing a few hikers’ packs. This was the start of the 2km out and back to Cape Huay….which appeared to have no flat trail on it at all, everything was ascending or descending, with many more steps which took it out of our tired legs. Still, the Cape itself was definitely worth the trip as the track ended at a little viewing platform where you could look across at the famous climbing stacks of The Totem Pole and The Candlestick.

View from Cape Huay towards the Totem Pole and the Candlestick

As we turned around there, Iestyn said that it was “only a parkrun” back to the car and that we should make it by 3pm if we got a move on. I realised that this meant we would have time to stop for an ice cream on the drive home before the shops shut, so I was off with a bit between my teeth (though it may just have been a parkrun PW due to the nature if the trail and the elevation gain/loss!).

The end is in sight....I can almost taste the ice cream!!!

We made it back to the car tired but happy, as it was a fabulous day out, and I can’t wait to go back with the girls and do it all again, though at a slightly slower speed for better sightseeing……though I still think it rather funny that the Three Capes Track only actually goes to 2 Capes anyway (I’d originally thought that our run had meant we missed one out, but no, there are only 2 that you visit!!).