Beechworth turned on a crisp, clear morning that is part of the autumn reputation of the region. The start line was buzzing with as much excitement as day one, only that day one was all about the lip-licking appetite for the seven days that lay ahead and this day seven was the mouth watering taste of achievement as we all read the dessert menu. Everyone knew what they had to do, whether it was to clean the stage to satisfy completion of the event or whether it was to defend or attack a position. Our tactic was to keep steadily moving and avoid any mechanical failures.
In true form of "it's not over 'til the fat lady sings" the final 65km stage was not going to be any exception to the previous stage's challenges. The course was set to take in about 20 percent of sealed surface, 55 percent of dirt roads and single track for the rest. A slightly broken start soon had us riding along the plantation access roads, skirting past Lake Kerferd and slowly gaining 100 metres elevation over the first 11km. The field had soon strung out to find Peter and myself sharing the first section with the brothers Norden and a couple of other teams. The road then gave back a fast descent that had more than enough gullies and potholes to avoid that it was anything but a time to relax. With Team Norden we reached Beechworth Mountain Bike Park, host of some fantastic trails to test any level of rider, a place I have ridden quite a few times but Peter had never seen. Soon we could see many of the teams ahead as the trails twisted and turned back upon themselves over the next 10km. Some of those teams would be 4 or 5 km ahead and would remain at that or increase that gap. There are plenty of rocks to negotiate through the climbs and descents of the park and some great berms to take advantage of so we were able to reach a couple of teams by once again letting the bikes dance through the single track. We set into a good single track tempo and found ourselves riding in the company of Brad Davies and Jess Douglas. The last 2km of the park was a gradual switchback climb where Jess and Brad had a little more strength to get ahead. Cresting the climb we exited the park to see Jess & Brad not too far ahead so pushed it out and latched on. Over the next couple of km's we worked together with them, giving each other a break in turns before being flung into a fast, pebbly single track with plenty of rock-rollover style drops thrown in. Our group of 4 became 11 as we closed the gap on the teams of Falls Creek, Meg & Peter, and Spanish Beef plus one. A fallen tree broke the rhythm of slapping chains and free-wheeling cassettes to bring the group together. The big group for the narrow trails made for many split second decisions that relied on the success of the line taken by the person in front, and a few of those were pretty dubious. Unfortunately Mark of Spanish Beef took an excursion over the bars whilst trying to clear one rock drop. Although the handle bars weren't facing the right way there was no personal injury. Spanish Beef dropped away whilst sorting it all out, and not too soon after, a clearing saw Meg & Peter let us through while they had a problem to rectify. Wheel to wheel with Mark and Francis of Falls Creek was a blast as Brad led and committed to some heart-in-the-mouth boulder lines. Low branches, big rocks and fast corners had us all yelping and cheering our way to the trail end and the midpoint of the stage.
Back onto roads the 6 of us continued, keeping it tight while reflecting on the single track joy and each doing our best to help each other along the next 20km of open, dirt roads. Six and a half days were taking their toll as gradual rises demanded any energy that was left. Approaching the final feed station of the event I went forward again with Pete's bottle while Peter and the other two teams rolled through. I got a fill, one last jam sandwich each and pressed on to catch back up. The baton change was seamless this time, but we were dropping off the back and soon found ourselves on our own, digging in to keep the Falls Creek and Giant teams in sight. Only having 11 minutes advantage over the Falls Creek team at the start of the stage, but still having the better part of 20km to cover meant an extra work load out on our own. It wasn't much longer before Spanish Beef had caught us, with Meg & Peter in tow. Soon the course took the rail trail heading west and started zig-zagging along stretches of single track running on the southern side of it, with some quad-pushing pinches and off camber downward corners. Once again there were 11 of us hunting our way through the tight, narrow sections. Concentration seemed to be rewarded greater than physical input as a good corner would close a gap and a bad exit would lose ground. One error cost us a lot of distance when Peter dropped his front wheel into a ditch to the left of the trail. Within a couple of minutes we had crossed the rail trail and were heading back east along the single track on the northern side of the rail trail. Spanish Beef's plus one, Alex, was getting some abnormal feedback from his bike so they had stopped to investigate, giving way to us on the track which was now predominantly a climbing trail. With heads down and legs spinning we ploughed on with Pete in front, and plough he did as he stormed straight into a low branch. The combination of the 29er and his height gave the branch no chance. The sound was like that of a branch splitting clear of a tree, the impact dragging his head backward against the forward momentum. I don't know how he didn't hit the deck. The branch stayed put in wait of its next victim as it chalked up yet another helmet on its silent tally. I asked Peter if he wanted me to take front wheel for a while but he reassured me that things were better now that he could see two trails in front him! A little further up the trail he removed the helmet to see one of the carbon bridges torn off the main helmet shell. Probably still seeing stars, he asked if there was sign of any broken skin on his forehead. There was no blood that I could see, but the compressive cracking sound as he went full-tilt into the branch was playing back over and over in my head. It was the kind of sound and vision that sent shudders through your body as you watched the impact.
A few more sections of single track set us back onto the rail trail toward the finish line only 5 or 6 km away. It was the one last climb, a gentle rise that leveled and then tipped downwards to take us to the final set of finish flags.
The feeling of crossing the finish line is a hard thing to describe, an elation you and your team mate are proud to share, and subsequently share with every other team to cross that line. We joined the celebrations and quickly found that the biggest winner of the day might well have been that branch, 3 or 4 riders had damaged helmets to prove it and the now obvious gash on Peter's forehead was showing how hard he had hit it. Sorry, mate. It hadn't started bleeding when you asked me back at ground zero.
On looking closer you can see where Pete's helmet has been broken at the top
Spanish Beef were next across the line. It was soon after that we were standing with Falls Creek and Spanish Beef congratulating each other's achievement of completing the 7 day tour. A great way to spend a week and great people to share it with. Our compadres, Team Norden, soon arrived on the scene to safely and triumphantly complete the 530km epic that departed from Falls Creek the previous Sunday.
We were the 12th team across the line, 30 seconds behind the Falls Creek team for the day. We were able to hang onto third place for the Masters Men category for Terra Australis 2011, with Spanish Beef 15 minutes ahead of us in second. To complete the event for the second time was a fantastic feeling but to also take a category podium after spending the last 3 days chasing and protecting that position magnifies the sensation immensely.
Thanks for the week's exhilarating ride, Pete.
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