On Sunday the 23rd of March 2003, the Great Melbourne Bike Ride took place in this fair city of ours.
This is the first installment of my report...
I had arranged to meet Michael on the 8:42am train that morning, on the front carriage. The night before, I was excited about the event and didn't sleep terribly soundly. I set the alarm for 7:00am, to make sure I had plenty of time to get ready.
I went to bed at around midnight, having watched a movie. I stayed away from the alcohol and corn chips, not wanting to impair my peak performance...
The alarm sounded and yanked me from my very peaceful slumber. I leapt up and turned off the cacophany, at least to spare my partner, if not my own ears. I jumped into the shower and let the hot water revive me.
The day before I had invested in some proper riding shorts - knicks - with the padding and all. And boy, I was glad I did by the end of the day! So I got dressed and made some breakfast. It was 8:15am by this stage. Since I was up alone, I took my bowl of cereal into the office to read some news on the 'net before I left. Time passed, and just as I finished eating the phone rang. I spoke for a few minutes, and then went to grab my things.
As I was picking up my bag, I glanced at my watch - then did a double-take. It was 8:40am! I had less than 2 minutes to get to the station! I grabbed my things (tools, puncture kit, etc) and jumped on my bike, then raced down the hill toward the station.
My legs were pumping like crazy, and I was doing nearly 50km/h down the hill. I slowed for the turn in toward the station, just in time to see the train coming along in front of me. I put on an extra spurt of speed, raced down the side-street and up the ramp, just in time to jump through the doors before they beeped and swung shut. The train started to pull away from the station, and as I was regaining my breath, I realised that not only was I on the wrong end of the train (to meet Michael) but that I didn't have a ticket. Oops.
I got off at the next station and ran up the platform, just managing to get onto the same carriage as Michael. He had his 3yo son with him, who was having a great time climbing over the seats and looking out the window at the scenery going by.
The rest of the train ride into town was uneventful. We chatted idly and before we knew it the train was pulling in to Flinders Street station. I got off and explained to the guy at the gate that I had to race for the train and thus didn't get a ticket. He warned me that inspectors wouldn't care about my reason and probably just fine me, but then proceeded to operate the machine to get me a ticket, even digging into his own pocket to find me change.
We rode off up Swanston St toward Carlton, and took a right to head along the side of the Exhibition Gardens, where we were to meet Peter. I took the opportunity to pump up my tires and do a general maintenance check (something I probably should have considered earlier) and generally prepared myself for the trip.
Peter appeared fairly soon after, and we headed off toward the starting line. As we came down the side-street, the scene unfolded before us. There was a veritable sea of people wearing bright orange T-shirts, and Lygon Street had been blocked off to cars. We grabbed a drink, had a quick look at the map, and set off toward the starting line.
Stay tuned for the next installment...
Leave a comment