uh oh it's the Odyssey

It was time to put some training into action...

Becs and I headed for Forrest straight from work and arrived at the oval as the drizzle was making its presence felt. A light but consistent blanket of misty rain was looking like settling in, which was no surprise to any that had been following the weather radar for the week.

It was Otway Odyssey time! All that was left to do was sleep the night through and get to the start line.

Registration was painless and the first social port of call for the weekend. It took a while to get from the car to the rego tents as I kept running into folk that I really only get a chance to catch up with at these type of events. A couple of Adelaide crew had spent a long day driving over and were glad to be done for the day, while most others had made their way down from Melbourne and surrounds. With rego sorted out we headed back for the road to Apollo Bay to put in place the final preparations.

The past few years several of us have hired a house for the weekend which makes Friday night a great session to psyche each other into or out of race mode. This year was no different except the psyching had to be fairly vocal to be heard over the ever-increasing intensity of the rain. And it kept on pouring down through the night...

Although overcast the rain had ceased by alarm-time. It was still dark but the shuffling from room to room had begun as the household prepared for the day. Becs and Jodie were first to leave as they had to drive back up to Forrest for the 50km race, which started at the same time as the 100.

We were ready and rolled down to the thronging masses assembled for the start on the Great Ocean Road in the middle of Apollo Bay. What an awesome sight!! The better part of 1000 riders finding their own place in the field to start the mammoth task ahead.

Under red and blue lights the field was led out of Apollo Bay by the local police. It was along the Great Ocean Road with high spirits, before turning left to climb a spirit-breaking Wild Dog Road, an asphalt climb that saw the field start to find its true seeding before hitting a wind-blown ridge that I had to lean sideways into to maintain forward momentum and stay out of the spoon drain to the right. I had started the climb with Mark as we picked our way upward. The road became dirt and I was next joined by Gus for the constant climb to the 30k point before getting in a couple of packs as we rejoined the asphalt. Then we turned off the road and realised why we were on mountain bikes.

We were immediately thrust into wheel swallowing puddles and 4wd trails to climb and descend the steep terrain. Now the bikes started to dance - and not like Lance, more like a street hip hopper spinning and twitching all over the place. Concentration became a big player as riders made split second decisions to ride through wheel rutts, take the soft and loose ridges or jump off and run through 25 metre sections of bog. Everyone questioned their own sanity but i don't recall anybody voicing any intense distaste for the conditions. In fact, not too much was said at all as nearly everyone pushed up the steep, slippery climbs, but there were all sorts of yelps and hooting as we would descend down the equally steep, slippery descents, some would say with gutsy commitment, others would suggest with borderline control. The next 10km were a roller coaster of pot holes, sticky clay, slippery mud and hidden wheel rutt rails just waiting to lead your front wheel astray. It was like some mobile secret society with a membership initiation ritual requiring you to launch from your bike and body slide into a muddy ditch. And those memberships were in high demand! I became a member at about 35km heading downhill. There was always someone nearby to cheer you into the club but mostly you could see everyone had their own hands full negotiating everything that lay ahead. We held our first impromptu meeting at the second creek crossing where everyone dispersed to some point of the creek to wash away as much collected mud as possible and see if there was still a derailleur hidden in there somewhere, or free the wheels from the clay-jammed frame.

The 40km water station was a welcoming sight.

Things changed as the trails soon became the single track of the Red Carpet Descent. It was near as to perfect as you could imagine with sucky corners and flowing flip-flop corners everywhere. An amazing reward for enduring those previous challenges. I stuck with a couple of guys that seemed to be working well together. We picked our way past a couple of other riders as the whole dynamic of the event took an about-face for the next 10 or 12km. There were a couple of loose moments across wooden bridges and some inset blue stone cobbles were more skatey than tractable but the berms were amazing and the rolling single track just kept on giving. The short climbs were always rewarded by a magnificent flowing trail downward.

A quick bottle fill through the football oval that played host to the whole Otway Odyssey MTB festival and it was back into the next 20km of superb single track. There were very few patches of water to worry about, it was just k's of great fun to get dialed into. The criss-crossing nature of the single track drew some drumming and singing closer, then led you away from it, but a few k later it was briefly onto the fire road to ride past the van with the trio that provided the musical interlude. Then back into the single track for a few more kilometres that eventually spat everyone back out on the footy oval. Another quick bottle fill / exchange and back to business for the final 13km which started with a 7 or 8 km stepped climb along a forest access road. After leaving the access road which seemed determined to drive some more nails into the coffin of fatigue it was into a single track section that was anything but sweet. It was gullied, and rutted, and muddy, and slidey and demanded the highest respect. Although it represented the start of the downhill stretch to home it was no time to let the guard slip. I had it all to myself, I couldn't hear or see any rider behind and a couple of riders in front were holding a similar pace but at least 50 meters ahead. We came together as a group at the top of a mudslide descent to the adjoining 4wd track which subsequently spat as into the base of the Sledghammer - the last of the steep, nasty climbs. There's some comfort in that, the part that states it as being the last of the climbs. After losing any chance of pedaling momentum I hiked the last hundred metres or so of the steep stuff, then back in the saddle for the gentler climb back to the road. Over the road lay more single track with a few tricks to watch out for and then a short climb back up to the return road. The return road carried two-way traffic of riders heading out on the last 13km loop and of riders ecstatically shifting into the dog to hammer back down to the oval for the finish line. I reached the oval to cross the line in 6hours 12minutes - I still cant believe how much fun I had throughout the day despite the weather's best efforts. At times it was hard to breathe with my heart in my throat but at other times it was to realise it was what mountain bike adventures are all about.

Becs also raved about her race, and well she should as she placed 5th in her category - brilliant!!

To see some great photos have a look at the following blog: http://www.cyclingtipsblog.com/2011/02/the-otway-odyssey-ive-been-odysized/