The Alpine Assault

Becs and I jumped into Peter's car for the journey to Victoria's North East for some mountain air. We had chosen to take on the Alpine Assault, a mountain bike race that started at Falls Creek and finished in Mt Beauty. You could be forgiven for thinking that would be a downhill journey, but as is the nature of mountain bike races the course was set to take in some long climbs, too. 

It was the last day of daylight savings so an 8am start meant the sun had barely risen and it was crisp mountain air being delivered by the stiffening northerly breeze.

Go time, and it was a quick descent from Windy Corner before we snaked our way through the village to the bottom of the Falls Creek Village Bowl. This setup the first chance to get the heart rates up with a short, sharp 20% pinch to then follow the aqueduct. This lead us to the access road that climbed the next 4km across the naked snow fields to the top of Mt McKay. I felt pretty good as I started to pick through some of the riders and settle into my own pace. A group of three or four of us seemed to be travelling at the same rate. Soon we were heading down some loose and rocky tracks, had a fallen tree across the track to negotiate, and were then spat out onto the main sealed road back up to Falls Creek. The 10km climb back past the village created a long, broken train of mountain bikers all on their way beyond Rocky Valley Dam. I used the climb as a chance to feed and to be sure to finish one of the two drink bottles I was carrying knowing I could refill it at the feed zone on the other side of the dam. 

Leaving the dam the track became very hard to find a reasonably smooth line, in fact, comparing tales with other riders everybody faced the same challenge. The fist-sized rocks embedded into the tracks made it difficult to find a rhythm and keep consistent power driving through the pedals. The route was headed north on a gradual climb across Mt Nelse to the highest point on the course. The views across the plains were amazing, and a good distraction from the icy head wind, but the rough vehicle tracks required greater focus to maintain a tempo. I was switching between left and right tyre track ruts, and at times sitting in the middle. No sooner would I commit to one wheel rut there would seem to be a better riding surface in the other, and so on the game continued into the wind and up the incline. The climb crested across a bouldery track for a short descent to one more climb before leading back below the tree line, out of the wind, and to the start of the first of the reputed treacherous descents of the race. The dishevelled track had rocks hidden behind grass, sticks littered anywhere and everywhere, and some hairpins that crept up on unwary riders. I passed a couple of riders and could hear them exclaiming to each other how nasty the track was. Letting the brakes out when there was enough clear view ahead gave a real rush as every next corner rapidly approached. The bike was dancing it's own path to the first river crossing, which was a wade-through crossing diagonally across downstream. With the water flowing quite quickly at about knee depth, by mid way across the river my feet and calves were exclaiming how cold was the temperature of this alpine flow. 

The track now headed upward, as I began the climb I soon found the disaster of a tear in the rear tyre sidewall as the pressure dropped away. I put a tube in, watched the passed riders take off in front, and continued the climb knowing there was the start of the second treacherous descent within the next kilometre. Although the surface was a little easier to read than the previous descent there were several bends that sharpened as they exited and could catch out anyone coming in a little too hot! About two thirds down the rear tyre went all saggy again. The rough surface had prevailed over the inadequate air pressure I had put into the tube, so the second spare tube I was carrying was put to use. I was sure to put plenty of pressure in this time, and headed off in hot pursuit of now the many more that had passed me during my service break. From here the track had become more of a dirt road that encouraged greater speed and control with plenty of open, straight sections. There were still some hairpins to deal with eventually leading down to the second of the main river crossings. The water was calf deep at it's deepest, the crossing setting up for a steep climb out to the main road. I had caught another rider so we chatted about the ride highlights so far and dug in as the dirt road jacked up to the sealed road ahead. Together we wound up the pace on the bitumen, which mainly descended but still had some minor undulation. The confession was made that he was grateful for my wheel to sit on but was really at the end of his energy drive so couldn't offer any turns at the front - unless it was downhill… we had a few laughs, continued on the next 5 or 6 km, passed Robert de Castella out for a run, rounded up the next guy and made it to the trail head of the single track descent alongside the road. The next guy took the lead so I followed his wheel. The dry surface was fast and narrow as it cut into the side of the hill with not a lot of room for error. We hit good lines, making the most of any slight berm then powered back up to the road level, where I took front wheel and lead onto a more open downhill approach to the road crossing point. Once the road had been crossed it was a short pinch up to the trail then a downhill charge to the finish line. 

I was feeling pretty charged. Despite the couple of flats I had a great ride, had found power where I needed it and kept consistent progress throughout. Not much after that Peter came across the line looking as charged as I felt. He had a great race and rode with respect for the corners that had given us some stern warnings a year previous at the Terra Australis (that followed the same route from the feed station). I hadn't noticed any others working on their bikes on the way down, well, one guy with a broken chain, but Peter mentioned he had noticed plenty of punctures - they must have been queuing up for the spot that I flatted.

Becs arrived at the finish line triumphant and elated, and well before Peter and I had anticipated. Riding at her own pace she had cleaned the ride without incident. We headed for the bakery in Mt Beauty to have a celebratory lunch, then back to the venue to find out we had all placed third in our respective categories - Becs in Open Women, me in Open Men and Pete in Masters Men. And all this on Becs' birthday.