60th Ken Dinnerville Memorial Handicap, Albion Park, 23 July 17
A report from Betty, an observer, and a transcript of an overheard conversation between some racing cyclists
44 finishers, 68 DNF (recorded), 35 DNS (recorded)
Part 1: A report from Betty, an observer
Sunday is usually much like any other day, for a cow. While it’s still dark, you start to hear the first signs of movement. Birds, mostly. Then the light comes, the insects get started and we ease into the rhythm of another day. Eating grass and going to the milking shed, and a fair bit of quiet ruminating, is the normal pattern.
Today started just like that. It was a nice day, sunny and cool. Quiet, as we like it, up top of Marshall Mount.
As the sun got higher this morning, though, I started to realise it wasn’t a normal Sunday. Someone drove up and marked a line across the road at the top of the hill, for one thing. Not only that, a while later, other people followed, and parked there. Weird. Some of them had cow bells. We looked at each other and laughed inside, watching these people ringing the funny little bells. We weren’t about to go anywhere in a hurry, bell or no bell! Nor were they, it seemed, as there was quite a crowd and they appeared to be settling in with us up on the Mount.
After a while there was more traffic noise. A few cars came up the hill, one with a flashing light on top, and then a bunch of sweating, panting cyclists. Mammals, I think they call them. Funny, it’s a a moniker we have in common, cows and people, but you won’t see me or my friends dragging ourselves up that hill in a hurry, or in fact not at all, if we can help it. We like to maintain our dignity.
Well, the cowbell ringers thought that these cyclists were just the best thing. They rang those bells, and called out, but none of the riders stopped to say hello. Most didn’t even look sideways. Some of them looked like they might be about to go sideways though! It wasn’t just the effort of getting up the hill - the wind had started to come up very strong, and although it wasn’t knocking me around much, some of those skinny types on their bikes looked like they might be making a sudden unplanned visit to my fence. I stepped back to give them some room, just in case.
More groups of cyclists, with cars in front and behind, followed. Same sweating and panting, same ringing the bells and calling out. People were taking photos too. It looked like the ones standing by the road were having a good time, but I wasn’t so sure about the ones on the bikes. They seemed to be taking things very seriously.
After a while, the riders we’d seen first came back up the more gradual side of the hill, from the north. They didn’t stop this time either - they rode right by the bell ringers and disappeared down the steep side of the hill. It was eerie, how one moment they were labouring slowly up the slope, then suddenly, with a whirring, whooshing noise, they just plummeted out of sight.
Then there were more groups coming back, one after the other. I got the impression they were all chasing each other. Not only that, it looked like some of them weren’t keeping up, because one or two of the groups were smaller, and there was the odd rider just riding along all alone. Very odd if you ask me. In all that wind, with no-one to talk to. People are strange, like we always say.
When I saw the last ones go by I thought that would be it. But the bell ringers and photo takers just stayed there, looking around. Some of them were looking at me, like they’d never seen a cow before. City types I think. Sure didn’t have clothes like the people I see down at the sheds.
While I was reflecting on this most unusual Sunday morning, it all started happening again! The car with the flashing light on top, the eager groups churning their way up the hill, the cowbells ringing, the calling out and the cameras clicking. Everyone was so excited, I couldn’t help starting to feel a bit that way myself, although I’m not sure why. I reckon once up a hill is enough for one day.
Anyway, I realised that the groups had changed shape even more. As well as that, there were also even more people just going along by themselves.
This went on for quite a while in the end. I saw the car with the light come up the hill four times altogether. Every time there were groups behind it, but the third and the fourth times, there were fewer and fewer people. Where all the others went I don’t know; they just didn’t come back up the hill.
On the third time, some of the groups had joined together. The two that had come up first were still by themselves, but they had lost quite a few of their members. The ones who were left looked shattered, except one big bloke with a beard.
When they came up the hill the fourth time, beard man was just riding by himself. But instead of riding along with his group, he’d decided for some reason to ride in front of them! Or perhaps they decided to follow him. I’m not quite sure.
In fact, he was even ahead of the group that had been in front of him in the first place. Now I was getting a bit mixed up, because I originally thought people were riding with their friends, but it seemed like they must have made new friends along the way, because lots of them were riding with different people. And then there were the ones who were perhaps not so friendly, or just wanted some time alone, because they were riding by themselves. More and more as time went by, as I said. Not that there’s anything wrong with being alone. I quite like a bit of me time myself. Also, a few of them looked pretty worse for wear, with sweat and dribble on their faces, so I can sympathise if they just thought they’d keep to themselves until they had time to get cleaned up. It’s not nice to feel like that when everyone else is enjoying a pleasant Sunday morning.
Back to beard man. He was out in front of all the other riders the last time they came up the hill. And he was still out in front of them when he reappeared from the north and dropped back down. He seemed to be in a big hurry, and so did all the riders chasing him. They were mostly in quite small groups now, or all by themselves. I tried to count and I think I saw 44 people go by. I don’t know how many there were when I saw them go by the first time, but I reckon it was at least 3 times that. So there must have been about another 70 or 80 people down the hill somewhere. Perhaps they were just taking some time to chew the cud. I would have been. I don’t know how anyone could smash themselves up that hill for hour after hour without stopping for a breather.
Once they’d all gone back down the hill for the fourth time, the bell ringers, callers out and photo takers all got in their cars and drove down the hill.
Silence had come back! Good old Marshall Mount, green and serene once more, just as we like it. We were all wondering whether that was it. We waited around for a while but no-one else came back up the hill, so we got back to ambling about the paddock.
I was still feeling a bit worked up by all the odd goings on, so later that day, I asked Henry from down the hill to let me know if he’d seen anything happening. He had in fact, and not only that, he overheard some talk down at the school. Apparently it all started down there and there were hundreds of people, and a PA system, and all sorts of comings and goings. He saw beard man and he said that his name was Simon Anderson. A city boy, from Eastern Suburbs. They got Mr Anderson up on a step and gave him a big trophy from Mrs Cleary, whose family has been around here for yonks. Mr Anderson seemed pleased. I’m glad someone enjoyed all that hard yakka.
Henry also listened in to a conversation between a couple of guys with yellow shirts. Here are a few snippets that he overheard.
Part 2: An overheard conversation between Davo (20th) and Marco (DNF, lap 3)
Marco: You did well Davo. It was very hard out there today. I’m pretty sure you were top 20, which was a great result especially with two bunches staying away, or at least the remains of them.
Davo: Thanks mate. How’d you go?
Marco: Not too bad considering how tough it was with the bumpy roads and wind. My group was going ok and we were all pulling turns, but I got gapped the second time up the hill and I never got back on. Then I waited for the next bunch and I rode with them until you guys caught us just near the end of lap 3, and I thought I couldn’t do another lap and hang on, so I pulled the pin. Looks like I wasn’t the only one. (Ed. - 5 of 15 from Marco’s bunch finished the race, including the first 3 place getters.) How did your group go? There didn’t seem to be many left.
Davo: Yeah, I think we lost about half our group in the first lap, but after that, we were all working together well. There was a fair bit of talking, which was good, and the Illawarra boys seemed to be looking after each other, which is fair enough I suppose. We caught a couple of the groups in front. I thought we had a chance to catch all the groups but then we heard there was still a 6 minute gap and I think a bit of the sting went out. Still, we had one rider home in the top 10. (Ed. - two in the top ten, and another 6 in places 11 to 20, including Davo. 11 finishers from 17 starters.)
Marco: And you stayed away from scratch, which was a top effort. You must have been on the limit a fair bit.
Davo: Yes, I feel absolutely stuffed now. I think it was a PB on power and probably the most honest race I’ve ever done. I got cramps with about 10k left but I managed to get through it. How was the wind!
Marco: A shocker wasn’t it? I thought I was going to blown off the road the first time down the hill, and one of the other riders in my bunch said the same thing. It can get windy here. It was your first time here I think - I hope it was worth the effort.
Davo: Yes, I loved it. I thought it was terrific.
Marco: What was so good about it?
Davo: Just the handicap group dynamic - it was fantastic. We were pretty similar calibre, and the working together and the communication even when we were right on the limit were top class. The other thing that really made it special was all the fans up on the hill, with the cowbells. And having Susan here with me; it was very motivating to see her each time we went through the top. And the organisation was great.
Marco: It’d be good to have a few more ‘tahs to join us next time.
Davo: Yes, it’s a pretty special type of racing. The group dynamics are so different from crit racing. We don’t get many opportunities to do this in Sydney, and this isn’t that far away really. It’d be nice to have some more company.
(Waratah Masters were represented by David Ledger and Daniel Bernard in G5 and Marcus Judge in G8.) David came 20th, and Daniel and Marcus decided to get head starts on preparing for their next races.)
PHOTOS AND GORY DETAILS HERE
https://illawarracycleclub.org.au/news/ ... icap-race/
2016 S-Works Tarmac, 2014 Wabi Lightning SE, 2012 Felt F75, 2011 Genesis Equilibrium 20, ancient Avanti Pista track bike
