New kit for year.

By now you would have all seen our new kit for the season, if not here is a couple of pic I stole from Cycling News. Or course I thought the black strip was very cool, it was very flattering on the couple of rides I had with it, but not everyone thought the same. Thinking it looked a bit cheap and not very fitting for such a professional team. Maybe the fact that it looked a bit like the New Zealand National kit was why I liked it so much. But hey even the new strip has to be better than the last few years of T-Mobile’s colours. I only had one reservation coming to the team, and that was the use of pink, opps, I mean magenta everything, bikes, cars, truck, clothes, etc. But now it’s the best of both worlds, black and silver bikes, a bit easier to keep clean. And a nice looking uniform on the road, at least we should be able to see them from a distance again.

Adam Hansen in his new Aussie TT colours.

And a pic of the new team shirt, matched with black shorts, with the stripes down the side like last season.

And keep watching the cycling sites, as the team has their big presentation to the worlds media, in the next day or so. Held in California, voiced by Phil Legget and shown around the world to all the cycling fans, it should be interesting to see the full team line up for the season. And if there is any new sponsors, we should know by then.

Wicked Workshops #5

With a only couple of days left in Melbourne as the racing is about to start in a few days time. I had two more Wicked Workshops to find and have a good poke around in. The last two workshops were the two that I had wanted to visit the most, one I managed to find, the other will have to wait until some other trip. I had heard about this workshop for a year or so, and it was the most difficult to find out of all. Featuring the most unobvious looking entranceway you could ever find, kind of a top secret location if you like. Again this was run by another Singlespeed advocate, seems they are the most inspiring of the lot so far. I first met Dan a few years ago, believe it or not, at another Singlespeed event, this time he was one of the two organisers running the event. I liked his style immediately, and I like his style even more now. He has run a nice website here and run cool web-store for a few years now, so have a look around it. But I think it has a R18 rating, so kids it’s off the menu, sorry, unless you love bikes of course. Dan is one of those guys that has managed to infuse a rock and roll lifestyle, with bikes, and it seems to have worked well together for him. His workshop is definitely the most wicked looking so far, with some of my most favourite products for sale, and a fantastic workspace to boot.

What a nice tidy looking tool box.

Dan works in a regular bike shop as a mechanic during the week, and after work and on weekends, that’s if he’s not riding, or visiting his Mum, you will find him in his studio workshop. That’s assuming you can find where it is. Nestled in the middle of a bunch of artist studios, built inside a bunch of old industrial buildings, you will find a pretty simple looking standalone doorway. With some milk crates as steps, you climb them, standing nervously on the top step, you press the doorbell, and hope someone comes to answer it. We had made an appointment earlier in the week, in fact I checked out the shop and his regular earner a few days earlier. Where as most cyclists hang out in bike shops, looking at the new bikes and products in the showroom, I tend to gravitate towards the workshop, for some strange reason. As with most of the workshops in cycle shops here Australia, they are hidden way out the back of the store, as if too keep the mechanics away from the customers for some reason. I know some of my old customers back in Auckland, would be thinking that would be the perfect place for me to hide out the back and work quietly. Then at least they would be safe from my constant constructive critique, as they dropped their bike off, or picked up a new tube or two.

A nice lineup of sprockets, very shiny.

So back to Dan’s studio workshop, upon entering the building, I spied many bikes kicking around the floor, the walls and hanging in the ceiling rafters. Most of them were of the one geared variety, some old, some new, already I was getting excited, this was just what I was expecting. I entered the workshop, and my eyes had trouble focusing on anything specific, there was so much good stuff to look at, where do I start. Dan had a customer’s bike on the stand, and the customer hanging around waiting while he was working on it. The customer was a new convert to cycling, and his first bike by the looks, a fixie (Key: a fixed geared track bike for road use, normally with or without brakes, very popular and fashionable in and around Melbourne for the last few years), he was soon on his way, a happy man. Dan later told me, it was strange for him, as he used to go and see the guy play in a band, they were, and still are pretty famous, he was in awe of them at the time. Now they all come to see him, as if he is the famous mechanic they all want to buy bikes from, and get work done by him. I think he was starting to realise he had created something pretty cool, and had some great respect in an industry full of mediocrity and copycats. I had a bit of a quick chat, before the next customer was buzzing him from the alley outside.

Dan's Jersey from his mountain biking days, in the back ground.

I spent a bit of time checking out some of the products and artwork hanging around on the walls. Of course I spent about half an hour checking out one of the cabinets treasures. So many Phil Wood and other nice hubs, almost a lifetime supply for a freak like me and my friends. Featuring close by was all the sprockets and parts to make up the most fantastic wheel sets you could dream of. Cubby holes were stuffed with some of the oldest, new stock I have ever seen, toe clips, toe straps, bar end plugs, ribbon tape and some of the coolest hand grips I remember growing up with. Next to the Phil Wood shrine was a the biggest selection of quill stems I have ever seen in the last ten years, a pile of chains, and a selection of shiny sprockets, both types, in every size you could imagine. With a selection of great looking handle bars, any style and configuration you could think of that was in. A pile of caps, modelled by some of the best heads I have seen, I even found a nice one for myself, should be great for the European winter I was about to enter.

The man himself, hanging out.

Dan had said he needed to have a bit of a cleanup before I visited, but I already knew he was a pretty tidy mechanic. There are generally two types of mechanics, a clean one, with an impeccable bench and work area. And of course the messy type, with shit and tools everywhere, but of course these types can also pull the old excuse, that they are far too busy to keep a clean bench. And there are those like me, stuck in the middle, clean and tidy, but always busy as hell, a nice compromise, but at any one time, it could look bad for me. At his regular day job, the tools were all in their place, the bench was clean and tidy, I didn’t expect anything else from him really. His studio workshop was unbelievably tidy, all the tools perfectly laid out like a surgeon’s instruments, ready for action. I was impressed by his innovation with the layout of his tools, and the cleanliness of everything on his workbench. I know a fair few mechanics who could learn a few lessons from Dan, and a few mechanics who could learn a bit more passion for the job from him as well. There was plenty of memorabilia hanging around the walls of his racing career, and some of the races he has organised over the years. Some pretty nice original artwork as well, all featuring bikes of course. There was a small tribute to the king, the king of rock and roll, not the king of mechanics, sorry (maybe we can find out who that might be some day).

But it was time to go, a few hours had passed, and it seemed only like a few minutes to me. Talk about a kid in a lolly shop. I have a lot of time for mechanics that have passion like Dan’s, they make you feel normal for a change, a world of similar passions, and like minds. I brought a few goodies for myself, and few friends, but resisted all the shiny bike bling for today, at least I know where I can find it now. I was gifted a couple of nice t-shirts, (you should stop reading this now Mum) one featuring his catch phrase ‘Ride.Race.Drink.Fight.Fuck’, all of which I have been guilty for in the past, and probably in the not too distant future. Thanks for the tour Dan, I will be back.

You can see some more pics here.

Another good find.

From the front door of HPV, we spotted a bit more of a bike path, we had to follow it, so far it had been good for us. And guess what we found, but an old velodrome, from an era long ago, almost ready to fall to the weeds and grasses surrounding it. It must have beautiful in it’s day, with the remnants of an old stand surrounding it, just wasting away to the elements. There was a nice bit of artwork just been painted on the lockup, it was sweet, a nice bit of work by some local artists. It looked pretty fresh, as there was no other tags or paint on it yet, I recorded it for history, while the boys had a bit of a blast around the track.

The wicked paint job on the old bike shed.

An era of racing, long passed on, but only if those bleachers could talk, what stories they would tell.

How long have you been here? Nice work.

The mural on the lockup said established in 1916, and from the looks of things, the current track had been laid in the seventies, probably covering what they rode on before that. It was a nice end to a morning of new beginnings, and seeing the end of the line for a few more bikes, that never made it back into a garage. I hear from the lads, the track still gets used a bit by the local club. A training session for kids, twice a week keeps the track alive, at least for a few more years yet. And for the odd messenger meetings and fixie fiends, to show who is the coolest on the day. I just hope the encroaching subdivision does not claim it too soon. As it looks like it could make it to 100 years old, easy.

Scooters bike looking the part, as some of the older club members look on.


And the winner is, cycling, cause it's still better than walking.

Wicked Workshops #4

Just when you thought there could not be more than one place, where bikes go to die. We found another one, not more than a km away form the last. This one was a bit more upmarket, called ‘Human Powered Vehicles’, and the idea of some sweet speed machines got my interest up (HPV’s are normally fully covered people machines, designed for speed runs). A quick ride down a bike path that followed the river, and we were there. And just like the last place, this had a pile of bikes sitting around the front yard in various states of unrepair. With about 150 bikes kicking around the place, I went for a bit of a ruffle around to see what I could find. What I found was a bit of Melbourne’s bike history, all sitting waiting to be claimed. I found about five different makes of bikes, built in and around the city in the last few decades. Not one of the companies still manufacturing anymore, but who could compete with China these days for price.

The shop floor display, they don't get much rain here apparently.

There was a nice workshop sitting in the middle of the yard, and from the look of things, the clutter and disorganisation continued it’s theme inside it. I wandered around, making conversation as I checked out everything of interest in the place. There was some good stuff coming out of some of the staff that worked there’s mouths. Kind of brought me back to the good old days of Adventure Cycles in Auckland, hey days, with Bruce and Brian out to change the world, and the wheel. They were feeling pretty proud about their new work stands, and work stations, I gave them a look of satisfaction back. With the new wheel stand they had just finished, looking like it could handle the like of a Harleys rear wheel, and also fix the delicate work on a road wheel, the same. The tools were well set out, with almost everything I could ever need, to fix anything in the yard hanging in it’s place. A welding torch and gas cutter on the corner, when that bit just doesn’t budge.

One of the nicely set out tool boards.

I thought it was fantastic that a place like this existed, when I spied the ‘Bike Shed’ earlier in the day, but to have two of them, so close to each other was crazy. But this one seemed to have a bit more order about it in the way stuff was stacked around the property. There was a lone female mechanic, working on an old Malvern Star Ten speed, she was busy and didn’t seemed to even notice me snapping away with the camera. The other three staff (it was hard to tell who was working there actually) were standing around, trying to make sense of a white board system, that looked far too confusing. The boss seemed to think he had cracked the cryptic white board code, I doubt it though from the state of it. With a bit of wheel building talk, they seemed to accept me as one of their own, kind of scary seeing how the bottom feeders, take me in as one of their own. But I think they have the same passion I have for bikes, the only difference is they have a lot more patience for old bikes, than I do.

The home made wheel trueing stand.

It was one of those workshops, much like most of them I have been in now thinking about it. But one of those places you can talk bikes all day, as time seems to stand still inside, as still as the lines of bikes waiting for new owners outside the door. They have three prices they charge for the bikes they recycle. One price for a waged worker, a lower price for students and the unemployed, and no price for asylum seekers and refugees. Kind of great to make the people that can afford it pay a bit more. There was a pretty standard fixie in the racks outside, with a price of A$1600, I think they had a moonshine still they were drinking from, hidden under a pile of bikes somewhere in the grounds. No one would be paying that price, but that’s the idea, it’s just a starting guide to grind down, till you can afford it. I had enough of Junkers by now, time to leave, and continue on my travels for the day. Must be time for another coffee by now, and this was not the sort of place to be having it.

Hey they are almost all there, nice work team.

Check out their website here, and some more pics here (when I get a chance to load them).

Wicked Workshops #3

With a nice sleep in on a lazy Saturday morning (till at least 8.30), an easy breakfast while reading the morning paper, it almost felt like I was living a regular life for a moment or two. This was my last weekend in Melbourne for a while, and almost the end of my small break for this month. I still have a couple of workshops to find and to have a look around them, so I was getting a bit nervous I might miss out on them. But like usual, it took the boys all of 25 seconds to convince me to sway my day’s plans a little. The magic words were uttered, coffee and a bike recycling and public workshop visit. With the sun starting to warm things up a little, I could almost taste the coffee already, as I listened to the description of what we were about to encounter for the mornings visit. Not more than about a half hours spin from where I was staying, was a community project called Ceres. A collection of buildings with a outdoor café, a plant nursery, gardens, a outdoor market selling local and grown on the spot organic goodies, kindergartens, and school rooms. And tucked right into the corner of the property, was a bike recycling and public workshop area.

A whole load of recycled bikes, ready for their new owners.

As we arrived at the gates of the place, there was an enormous sign telling you it’s a ‘Car free zone’, kindly leave you vehicle at the gate, sweet. We rode on in, past the nursery, still to open up for the day, up to the very full bike rack on the edge of the café. There seemed to be a small bunch ride of about 15 riders about to leave the carpark. Not the ordinary bunch of roadies covered, from head to toe in lycra, but a bunch of down to earth looking bikes and riders to match. Every bike had the obligatory set of panniers or baskets, packed to the brim with what I can only imagine was a very nice lunch in each. They saddled up and left us to it, ahh the coffee was close, I could smell it already. The café was pretty busy for mid morning, but I suppose everyone had the same idea as us. There was many kids and dogs wandering around the place, good to see them getting dirty. Nice to see for a change, so different from some of the sterile café’s that tend to serve the good coffee these days. The bike shed opened at 11am, so we had a few coffees to go yet.

The well quiped work bench, I just wonder how many tools go missing here.

You want to know where dead bikes go to die, well by the looks of things most of them end up here. There was piles of shit everywhere, bikes in various piles of sizes, rusting away in the weather, together. There were tires heaped high, and wheels so plentiful, they even had time to make some pretty cool artwork with some of them. The doors had just opened to the shed, so I busted my way on in, but there was so much stuff in the two-levelled shed, I could only get a few feet in the door. But there was plenty to see, and most of it had had, a good life one day, but still most of it was there for a purpose. For a small fee of $10, and $5 if your unemployed, you can use the tools and workshop for the year. By the sounds of things, you could take you pick of the parts and pieces filling every nook and cranny, for free or worse, a nominal fee. There were bikes they had recycled themselves, and for a pittance, they could get you on the road, tell you which way to ride, and how to stay safe. Need some help with your repair or some advice on how to fix it yourself, well look no further, there is plenty of help available from the friendly staff kicking around.

And piles of small parts, stripped off bikes previously.

I had a good look around, and even managed to convince Lewis, who was on duty for the day, to let me climb the ladder, into the potential gold mine on the top floor. Man oh man, what a lot of stuff, from piles of new shiny spokes, to solid rusting chains, a fork maybe, or a recycled 16” wheel for your kids bike. Well you come to the right place. I had a good rifle through the shed, just in case there was something that needed to be saved. But alas, no such luck, but the guy looking through a pile of bikes in the front yard, looked pretty stoked with himself for his find. With such a small joining fee, and a pile of wicked stuff like this, a shed full of tools, and all the knowledge you could need. A space like this, is deffinatly needed in most big cities. Where else do those bikes end up, I shudder to think of the alternatives.

A fork anyone? ready for those old restoration jobs.

You can find them here. And a few more pics here.

Wicked Workshops #2

‘COG’ Bike Café

Sometimes the simplest of ideas just fall together, and together they seem to work perfect with each other. What more do you need in a bike store, a well equipped workshop, a mechanic that knows his way around the bikes. A collection of parts and accessories to suit the most basic needs, some fruit bits locked up, and a phone to order those tricky parts you don’t carry. How about good coffee, it’s almost essential, if not one of the more necessary needs for both the staff, and customers alike. How about some nice quiet roads for the roadies, and some easy and expert, off road trails, right outside your front door. And how about some food, fresh muffins, baked while you wait, ohh and how about a nice smoothes as well. Well look no further, welcome to the COG, bike café.

we are here, and what a nice relaxing looking place.

The work shop, with the wall full of P&A, nice.

Sitting right on the Warburton Rail Trail, near Mt Evelyn in Melbourne, sits this wicked workshop. Surrounded by a load of native forest and a National Park, full to the brim with some pretty damn fine singletrack. We arrived early with bikes ready, to meet up with Damo, the part owner and resident do everything guy, for a ride. Damo was our guide for the morning, which was just perfect, as local knowledge in the forest is the only way to ride. Damo was helping to open up, positioning all the hire bikes and various other bikes for sale outside, when we arrived. We got a coffee, and checked out the place while we waited. The ‘COG’ was almost split in half, with one side devoted to the bikes, with workshop and P&A taking every possible spare spot. There was a pretty nice work stand, sitting right in the place of pride, right in the middle of the work shop floor. An old modified drafting stand, with an old cruiser frame mounted on top. This had the clamp on the head tube to hold the bikes, and in where the rear wheel sits, was a trueing stand, for wheel making. It even had some custom made flames added, to just add decoration, and to make it look even cooler than it was.

A double short espresso please, and a cable for my rear brake thanks.

The café side was just as cool, surrounding the beautiful coffee machine, was a whole load of yummy looking muffins, both savoury and sweet. Libby, Damo’s business and life partner, was busy with some baking, knocking out a few batches before she was off for a ride with a friend. There was an old stand up stove in the middle of the workspace, giving it the look of an old holiday home, kind of sweet. Down the wall was the overloaded notice board, full of good information. A few bike magazines, to waste the time away with your coffee, and a fantastic old gramophone case, adding to the homely look of the place. But as Damo reached to turn this old beauty on, I spied some modern sound equipment filling the insides, even better. The coffee was great, but the trails were beckoning, so we hit the road. Now right outside the door, the Warburton Rail Trail runs right past the front door. At about 50km long, and like most rail trails, some riding that suits even the most unfit riders. There were bikes passing almost constantly, all shapes and sizes riding them, and some large family looking groups by the looks.

I first met Damo at another World Singlespeed event. At almost 7 foot tall, he was wearing a tight fitting, purple jumpsuit, and large afro wig over his helmet. Not only did his costume make such a huge statement, but so did his bike, with faux tiger skin saddle, it was also fully wired for sound. A car audio system totally covering the front triangle, with two sets of speakers, one hanging off the front forks, and the others off the rear stays. Quadraphonic I think they call it. There was some very nice funk playing out load, and for some reason, it all worked together rather well, I was a fan. Since then I have met him at many events around the World, every time he has had the sound system with him on various bikes. With plans for another COG café, at the other end of the Rail Trail opening soon, I don’t think I will see him overseas so much this year. The mountainbiking was great, with the real riding starting, not ten minutes from the coffee machine. The trails were in perfect condition, a bit a rain a few days earlier, had managed to keep the dust away, and to pack the trail down a bit. The bush was full of natives, so the smell of eucalypts was intoxicating as we headed up to the summit for a look. We only had a few hours, being Sunday, Cog was going to be busy. So he showed us a few thrilling trails, so we could get a good idea of what was kicking around on his doorstep. And we were pleased he did show us, finding trails like this never happens while riding blind.

What more do you want to know.

Damo left us after a while, he had a café starting to fill up and some work to do unfortunately. Soon after him leaving us, we met Libby on the trail, just bike testing with a friend, and taking the dog for a run. Again, she was only leaving the café for a few hours, then back to work for her as well. We arrived almost in the front door of the café, after blasting down another nice bit of track, Righto, time for some more caffeine and a bit of solid sustenance. I couldn’t resist the fresh mango smoothes, and they were perfect finish to a fantastic morning. Time to head home to the city, and at only about 40km away, I thought I was in the middle of nowhere moments before. There were still punters riding past the door, most of them stopping for a look, and a purchase. I will be back soon, as the trails were too good to miss, and with coffee this close to the trailhead, why wouldn’t I.

And you can read more about the Cafe, and a few more pics here.

Wicked Workshops #1

Jessie’s Bike Bar, Melbourne

With a few days off between races, it was time for a bit of riding and a bit of retail therapy. Time to recharge the batteries, and recharge the mind, and what better way than hanging out in a few workshops for the week. You would think that by now, it would be the furthest thing on my mind, more bikes, but your wrong, it’s the first thing on my mind usually. I always have an interest in other mechanics, and some of the places they work from, makes me feel normal in my addiction. There are always some cool bikes or tools to look at, and always some new projects in the pipeline to discover, hidden away in the corner or on the stand. Even an old beauty, being restored or modified to some modern glory. Melbourne seems to have some of the more eclectic workshops that I have come across. And with a week or so up my sleeve, I will track four of these, not so obvious, and well hidden gems for your viewing.

First up is the very hard to find, well disguised, ‘Bike Bar’. I can’t even remember where it is, even though I have been there three times. I have even been in the small street it sits on, and still could not find it (will get the address for you later). One thing gives it away, a nice old early rusting 50’s Holden pickup hanging in the car park, with ‘The Bike Bar’ painted on the thing. This is enough to get me excited, as I know what awaits me inside. I first visited Jessie, and his magnificent workshop a few years ago. I had just raced the ‘Singlespeed World Champs 04’ out in Castlemaine, north of Melbourne. Not my most successful attempt at racing, with almost half year of preparation, I was out in a count. Crashing badly on the first of four laps, putting a huge rip and hole in my knee (13 stitches, and a nice hematoma down the whole leg). It was, surprisingly enough, a result of a mechanical failure of my front disc brake, seems I get to work on everyone’s bikes, pre race, except my own. So Jessie was the Hope agent, and we ended up there, picking a few parts up, and getting side tracked as usual along the way.

Just one corner of his very full workshop, what more you say?

A lot of things have changed here since my last visit, a couple of years ago, mostly more stuff, filling the place almost to capacity. But there were still plenty of places to stand, to get a good view of the surrounding fruit hanging of the walls and shelves. Jessie is one of those perfectionists, a mechanic with passion, and with vision. He had done his stints in normal bike shops, also a bit of time as race mechanic for a French team, many years ago. Working now with not only with bikes, but has moved into the tool making sides of things as well. Featured around the walls and shelves are many different customers jobs, in various states of repair, and many of Jessie’s own projects. He has moved a bit sideways from when I last left him, with the workshop filling up with many more cool old machines to play with. His new interest is machining bike tools up, sharpening existing ones, and making and designing more mechanic friendly tools for the trade. He is loving the micro-machining side of sharpening and tool making. There was a name for it, but I forgot, there was too much stuff going on to remember the current affliction he has, but he was happy all the same.

Some of the wool jersey's, hanging around waiting.

He is still the Hope agent, so you can still see remnants of normality in his workshop in places. Boxes of disc brakes, bleed kits, hubs and old hub bodies lining the shelves. I spied a rack of vintage wool, climbing a ladder (it’s hanging out of the way of greasy hands) I flicked through his collection, ‘any for sale?’ I asked, kind of expecting to hear no. ‘Well if there is anything YOU want, I am sure you could have it’, but I couldn’t do it, thinking of the bag I was already having trouble closing, I declined. But I did register my interest in a nice classic Panasonic team jersey, maybe I can pick it up next time I visit. I spent a couple of hours, watching him work on a mates wheel, being sidetracked by another friend working on a project in the back of the workshop. The world famous Gonzo, (Gonzo Labs, another crazy local mechanic) was making a gravity bike. Small 20” wheels, long heavy suspended frame, no pedals, and looking very fast. This he was making for the impending gravity games in Sydney, in a month or so, apparently he is one of two Aussies invited to race with the worlds best (it’s a newish sport here, but famous elsewhere, 1.5km race on steep roads, standing start, must find out more). He was borrowing space and machines off Jessie, to finish his fantastic machine.

Only one old lady owner, so still looking pretty good for it's age.

There were plenty of nice old bikes, lining the walls, a nice original Gary Fisher MTB, one of the first to be imported here on display, a few early Malvern Stars (Aussie icon brand). A nice old Western Flyer Cruiser form 1948 above the door, in original condition, Jessie being only the second owner. Jessie is a fantastic wheel builder, so we talked wheels for a while, we are a dieing breed, so some wheel building language was quite nice for a change. I had a good look around all the back rooms and dark corners of the place, a sign of respect really between mechanics. He knows I will see something of interest, and drag out and ask questions on half finished projects he has long forgotten about. I will be going back before I leave, I have a special tool I need made, and this is the only guy I think is capable of making it for me. It’s nice to know there are places like this for me to escape to every now and again, where I feel at home. I could envisage owning such a place like this in the future, but what a great place to do all your inventing and fettling, you would need no more.

Love the display here, could easily work in this corner for a while, three to go.

And a few more shots of the workshop here.

TDU Stage #6

The feeling around the team camp was pretty damn good, the boys were wearing smiles you couldn’t wipe off in a hurry. Andre was looking his worried self, nervous as hell, but you could still see his smile though. The staff were all happy as well, but we still had a bit of work to do, as second place, and yesterdays leader Alan Davis, was only 7 seconds behind, and could easily take the tour. In fact the top 10 riders, were only 29 second off the tour win, now you can understand Andre’s nervousness. Doing a few calculations, you realise how serious second place is, with 3,2,1 seconds available on both of the intermediate sprints, and 10,6,4 seconds for the stage, the 7 seconds is not a comfortable lead. But that didn’t change my work, just another day for the mechanics, yes I was thinking of the situation, but what more could I do. The bikes would be perfect at the start, and should make the distance, bar a few crashes, ready to win again. I spent a little bit more time, making sure and double checking things one more time. The stage was a flat street circuit of 5.5 km per lap, 16 laps in total for a distance of 88km. And the best thing was it was a late afternoon start, so a bit of time for relaxing before the race, and another chance to really make sure the bikes were more than perfect.

The leaders board, before the start. Things are looking pretty close.

The circuit was in the middle of town, so a short ride to the start for the boys, and man the town was busy. They were expecting a record crowd of 85,000, and by the looks of things, checking out the course, they had already reached that total. It was going to be a fun day, let the race begin. With a few laps warming up, all the teams were looking great. They were all posing for pictures for the crowd, and for themselves. It was the last race of many, and for some, the last time they will be in this fine country till next years race. It was nice for the public, as they got to hang real close to the riders all week, and today was no change. I saw at least 20 people, handing over there orange jersey’s (interesting fact in Australia, they call jerseys, ‘gernsey’s’, stems from the footy I hear, I thought they were a little bit affected by the sun when I heard it for the first time, crazy) they had from the others days race, for signing. The boys were right into it, anything for the public, makes them come back, time and time again. Great for the sport, and great for next years tour. Now on to the race.

Don't look so nervous Andre, you got Adam beside you, all the way, chill.

They called the top riders to the line, and as usual it took a few minutes to get them sorted. I was in the pits for the day, feeding and wheels if needed, and of course manning the camera for the day. My work was done, I waited for the start, wheels in hand just in case of any issues at the line. The gun exploded through the PA with such force, it brought the hair on my head to a standstill. I was very excited, but deep down inside, I was nervous, not my usual 10% nervousness, but it was a mighty 65%, doh. Not normal for me, but this was my first race with the men, things were a lot more serious with a UCI Pro race, the crowds were larger than I had seen before with the Women, things just felt a lot different today. But the boys were reaching the first corner, and with some super fast speed, it looked fantastic for the crowd. The course was great for spectatoring, as you saw them riding both directions on most of the lap, so great to get a good look at the competition twice per lap.

The speed was high, but it still didn’t stop multiple attacks, trying to leave the bunch. UNISA was controling the front of the race until the first sprint. They wanted it bad for Alan Davis, and rightly so, they had a good chance to win everything, that’s if we left them to it, but no chance. Right up to the first sprint, there was also CSC riding hard, looked a bit strange, as they had nothing to gain from it. The bell rang out, signaling the sprint was up next time around. I moved position so I could see the finish line, and just as I got there, the bunch came screaming around the corner. UNISA was in a good place, but to my left, I could see a couple of black jerseys of Greg and Andre coming through the field. They rode closer, but it was too hard to pick, Andre was getting boxed in big time, he’s not the best at positioning himself right, but this looked dodgey. They were on the line, Alan took the 3 secs, Greg took the 2 secs, as Andre was boxed in good, Alan moved closer, 4 seconds from GC. Right away you could see he was not happy, hand raised for the comissionares to see the replay. But it was not to be, hope the next one would be a good one. Andre would have to win the next sprint, and hope Alan was no where to be seen, if he was to hold on to the lead.

The boys are really looking good, controlling and patrolling well.

The race carried on, with again the race being controlled by CSC, Team UNISA had nothing left, it looked like they had cooked most of the riders with the first sprint. It’s always bad when you see the dirty tricks being played by some of the teams in the lead. Why were CSC racing I wonder, well make up your own mind, but money talks, and winners walk proud, even if it’s a dirty tactic. Who knows what favour they were paying back, or what price they had asked for to keep things under control, It’s one of those things you never hear about too much, but is bleedingly obvious if you look around the odd races. But more later, the mafia is everywhere in cycling. But we had a sprint to win, the bell lap was coming up fast. And ring it did, the speed was unbelievable with CSC on the front, but they had done nothing all week, so probably had some energy left. The bunch came around the corner fast, and in the front I saw a few more black shirts than last time. They sprint was on, and I could see Andre now, with his ochre jersey, shining in the sunlight. His placement was good this time, ready after the last blocking he got. And I could see Alan Davis sneaking around the middle, and bang, it was over, Andre takes the 3 seconds. Can’t remember who got the 2 and 1 seconds, (sure you can look it up) but we were back in it, and Andre was looking a bit happier this time round the corner.

And the winner is, Andre, check out the rest of the team in the background.

The team was working hard on the front, now was their time to shine, Andre was so close now, time to give everything for the cause. The boys were looking good, a lot better than UNISA team, as most of the team was hanging around the back of the peloton. With a couple of others dropping off the back, hey they have done well this week, but time for the big boys to show them what they got left. And what a show, adressing every attack with vigour, showing the competition not to mess with our boy today. I was trying not to watch the big screen, not 50m away, but was still sneaking a look every now and again. There was a crash a few days later, a Rabobank rider went down in the sprint, of course in an orange jersey. So the idiots running the live feed decided to replay the crash, right in the middle of the race, maybe if you were watching at home with sound, you might know what they were on about. But I was just glancing at the screen half heartedly, and wham, a huge orange (ochre) jersey going down, I freaked, thinking Andre had crashed with five laps to go. I leaped to attention, wheels at hand to find the crash. Only to realise that it was just the Rabo guy going down, replay number one. Just when my heart had a chance to get below 180 bpm, a couple of laps later, same shit, crash, my heart raced, until I realised it was the same replay, once again. I hope I meet the producer at the function tonight, I might just see how his reactions are going.

But the last bell was ringing, one lap to go. The boys were chasing down another attack, still looking strong, Andre was close by at 10th wheel. It was now getting exciting, with less then 1km to go I got into the finish straight ready for action. And action it was, they rounded the corner in full flight, I could see a single orange jersey, a few riders back, but no lead out from the boys in black. I waited, and the front was a mess, with 150m to go, the sprint was on, riders everywhere, what a mess, but I could still see Andre hanging around the front. And sprint he did, Alan Davis was stuck behind, and could not get a free run, and by the looks of things, he was done. Andre smashed the lot of them, taking the stage win, equalling the record of four stage wins. He had done it, we had done it as well, Andre wins the Tour Down Under. Not only taking the tour win, 4 stages, the Classic Race, and the sprint Jersey, but also the first white Jersey of the UCI Pro Tour. What a machine, he is going to great to look after this season, especially if he can do this again at a few races. The team was elated, the staff were excited, it was after all a fantastic start for the Men, and for the new Team HighRoad. A great end to the month of wins.

What an occasion, the team explodes with emotion upon winning the Tour, and the press is about to attack him now.

And here are the last pics of the tour, right here, unless I get the urge to show some more bikes.

Now for a couple of weeks off, time for some riding, and some pretty cool shops that I have found here in Melbourne. More later on the racing, when I start with the Geelong Women's Tour, the first World Cup of the season, again in Geelong. Then to the beautiful country of new Zealand for the Tour of Wellington.

TDU Stage #5

With Andre sitting close to first place in the GC, things were getting serious for all the main players. Stage 5 was piped as the deciding stage, Willunga to Willunga, a two different lap course, including the infamous (famous for locals, but small in comparison climbs in Europe)Willunga hill, for a total of 147km. It was a simple race really, with a nice flat loop out to Aldinga beach, then back into the little town of Willunga, this they did three times. Then a single lap of the hill, a short little climb, up to about 8% in places, but not what you would really call difficult. Then follow the ridge for a bit, then a nice winding decent, almost all downhill to the way to the finish. The next stage was a flat 88km Criterium around the city circuit, not any surprises expected there, so today was our only chance to get it in the bag. The team was excited, Andre was nervous as hell, as I think the reality of him winning the tour was becoming a reality. We had a couple of climbers ready for action, to chase any attacks that might threaten our positions, and to also do some attacking to hurt the opposition. We could not do any more. The crowd was stating to fill up at every vantage point around the course, pretty impressive really as the announcer was saying there were 75,000 spectators out already, and the race had not even started yet.

Hey it's Machello, with a baby Kangaroo, doesn't he look happy.

We had been out here twice in the week leading up to the start of the tour. Every one of the boys had had a good look at every corner and possible place to attack, and to be potentially be attacked on, so we were ready. Team UNISA was looking decidedly nervous, as can be expected when they have the leaders and the sprint jersey riding on the back of a young rider. The Spanish teams were hungry for some action, and I think, most of the other good riders, were all looking at this stage to make their moves, and salvage what they could of the tour. With only 20 seconds between the first three places, and 50 seconds between the first 50, it could go anyway today. I was mechanic in the team car today, at least for half the race, as Nick, the head guy wanted to see the hill section. Fine by me, as I was new to working with the director, I would leave the most stressful part of the race to them. Plus it would give me a good chance to check out the finish, hopefully to see the German Giant, weave his magic again in the sprint.

First lap about to finish, with Greg up the road about 4 mins, with a couple of others.

We were off, and right from the get go, the speed was high, on the leg out to the coast, we were moving at speeds of around 70km/hr, pretty fast for the first lap. As we hit the beach leg, the crowd was massive, everyone waving Aussie flags in the faces of the riders. It was Australia Day, a national holiday (which was to be celebrated on Monday instead), celebrating the day the British wrangled the country off the Aborigines, who had only been there for about 30,000 years. Mostly it was a day to do all things Aussie, drink, bbq, hang out at the beach, and watch a bike race. By the time we finished the first lap, the speed was still high, and there was a small break out the front with our own Kiwi, Greg Henderson and a couple of others in it (think about 5 of them). They were riding hard to keep away, and the good thing was that they would take the two sprint time bonuses for the day. Leaving them out of the hands of the Aussie in Ochre. The break stayed away for most of the three laps, but they reel them in by the time the hill lap started.

Nick had jumped in the car by now, and I feed the boys before the last climb, just before Willunga Hill. They started climbing, and as expected there was numerous attacks off the front. We controlled most of them, with Adam Hansen chasing down almost all of them himself. Some fantastic team work, as he also helped keep Andre in the lead bunch as well. The word came over the radio, we were excited at first, as there was a break of about 25 riders in the first group over the top. The bunch had splintered behind this bunch, with the leader, and most of his team caught back in it. Here the radio played it’s usual tricks, one moment Andre was in the lead bunch, then he wasn’t. We hear the leader was on the front of the second bunch, almost a minute behind, and was riding hard by him self. No one was going to give him any help, and by the sounds of things, his team was running on empty as well. Still I waited for the numbers in the lead bunch, and no joy, as he tried to tell a few more of the riders numbers, but no Andre. I was hoping, and had all my fingers I could possibly cross, crossed. He must be wrong, but he is a big boy, and it was a very fast ascent, not being the climbing type, and with multiple attacks, this could be the race.

Such a nice shot, bet it came out ok.

I helped the boys get organised for the returning riders, chairs, tents and bags organised. The parents of Greg Henderson came over for a seat in the shade, and still no radio confirmation. There was a small attack happening off the front of the small group now. A lone Spanish rider was off the front, almost a minute in front, and with only 10 km to go, it was getting to close to call. I ran to the finish chute as the first police came through the finish, I was hopeful, but still no information coming over the sound system. I could hear the announcer starting to get excited, so they must be close. I could barely see the road, let alone the sprint about to happen. I stuck my camera above the massive crowd, and snapped blindly as the sprint fanged past me. I caught only one glimpse of a black rider passing me, he was in front. The legs were bulging out of his shorts, and I recognised the upper body movements as I sighed a breath of relief. Andre did it again, took the stage, number three for the tour, and from my calculations, took the lead and the Ochre Jersey. Sweet, we were in front for the first time all week. By the time the team got back to the vehicles, they were jumping for joy, so happy for the work they had done bringing Andre to the lead, sounds like there was much more happening out on the road than we knew about. But the press were about to maul him again, so we made for the base, there was work to do. We would celebrate after tomorrow’s stage, that’s if we can hang on to the lead, only 88km to go.

Andre past me, about 30m to the finsh, and he's already in front.

And some more from the stage here.

TDU Stage #4

Part of the celebrations happening this week included a peoples ride, that was happening today on the same course as today’s stage. The difference is that they were starting about 5.30am, we had the luxury of sleeping a little longer, with an 11am start. Stage #4, was from the riverside town of Mannum, 134km to the town of Strathalbyn. There was a few distances available for the public, a full length, half and quarter. With 3500 entries it was going to be a long day for some of the participants and those organising the race. We were told the last few years were pretty hot, think they got 44’c out on the road last year, with a few heart attacks, a death, and a few people lost and disorientated throughout the day. Everyone riding this years event was bar coded, and dressed in a bright orange jersey (so the spotter planes could see them if they went walkabout). Every quarter of the ride, they had to enter a rest stop, get scanned in, wait under shade, drink and replenish themselves for ten minutes (no early departures we allowed), before they were scanned out of the rest stop. Medical staff were on hand, to keep them back, just in case they thought they were not looking good. But hey, it’s just a safety issue, and we all know how bad a shape some of the public are on these rides. Kind of funny really, imagine if they did it to the big boys as well, what a mess when there’s a race to be won.


Some of the wicked old buildings in the start area.

The transfer to the start, was pretty long from the hotel, even with our escort it seemed to take hours, driving through the parched countryside. And with time ticking over fast, we would have about 40mins at the start before we were racing. But everything worked out sweet, everyone was ready on time, and the local crowd there to see the race off, was great. The local talent and schools, had plenty of action happening on the stage, to keep everyone entertained while waiting for the gun. I was in the team car, for the first time on this tour, I was excited, but also a little bit nervous (I am the new guy in the team remember). I am not sure why, as I have been in race cars, more than 500 races before this, including racing for the men at the Worlds a few times, so there was no reason to sweat it. But my intuition was telling me something was up, so I kept busy, right till the starters gun. The stage started with a nice little climb for a km or so out of the town, and I spied team CSC riders all warming up before the start, I told the boys to keep an eye out, and they started to warm up as well, just in case. After the start, we climbed slowly, with a side/head wind for another 20km to a small set of hills, it was going to be the start of the fireworks here for sure, so we were all ready with some good plans. My brother Steve (from the bike shop back in NZ) was over on business, so I managed to swindle him a ride in the car, for his fist time in a serious race, he was excited.

Berni posing for the girls.

We were under way, and as expected, CSC was trying everything they could to get away, but to no avail, teams reeled in every attack, including ourselves. As we started getting into the hills, the inevitable call on the race radio came up, ‘HighRoad, defect’, shit, that was us, and to make it worse the speed was on, and the race was about to bust wide open. Our first puncture for the race, and with our best climber for the week, Adam Hansen, I jumped out and sorted it, taking a little bit more time than usual (he was in the 25t at the back, and the Zipp’s were not liking going into his bike), he was off. The bunch had split by this time, and a group of about 50 riders were off the front. Andre was it there, as well as a couple of the other boys, kind of safe, but still, it was early on, and we needed a full team up there, if we wanted to win today. So the pressure was on, the front group had put the hammer down, and three of the lads were struggling to get organised in the back group. No one else was wanting to help, as you can imagine, so it was left up to us. They started chasing hard, and the boys were working great together, just when I thought they may have made it, the time check came through with the boys loosing another 25 sec’s. But somehow, Adam managed to get away from the group, and attack off the front, with Scotty and Rabon being left behind. It worked sweet, Adam managed to get away from the group and find his way back to the leading bunch, pulling a few others back with him as well.

The first good climb of the day, and the first (and only) puncture of the tour coming up.

I relaxed a little as we speed up to the leading bunch. But just as it was passing through a little town, ‘CRASH' (‘chute’ actually, the French word for the same thing) came over the radio. We rounded the corner, and I managed to count our four riders passing the corner safely, waiting to hear on the race radio who was down, I waited, nothing, so I jumped out, along with a few other mechanics, wheels in hand looking for the downed riders. Sweet, there was only one rider down, a French rider from the AG2 team, phew, the lads were safe. After this, things seemed to settle down a bit, time for some feeding from the car, the temperate was reading 37’c, but it didn’t seem that hot in the car, thank god for air-conditioning. Soon enough, the other bunches behind joined the leaders, bunch complete. Now to wait for the next attacks, and before you could say, ‘feed zone approaching’ the speed was on. A couple of the boys were spewing as one of the teams attacked through the feed zone. This is not good, a sign of no respect for the other riders, as most of them missed their feed bags, but they calmed down a bit when we gave them some food and drinks.

The scrum for position to talk with Andre, what a mess.

The road was littered by now with people in orange jersey’s, from the peoples ride still happening. I knew we would catch some of them, but there was heaps of them, hiding under every bit of shade they could find, (they could also have rode out for a look after they finished, but I doubt it, by the shape of some of them). We were nearing the finish, bunch was still together and was getting nervous. Many teams tried to escape, but were pulled back in by the three teams head of the GC, Rabobank, Team UNISA, and us. 1km to go and the speed was up super high, our boys were fighting hard to lead out Andre, and what a team. They rounded the corner, with two of us in a good place, 500m to go, CRASH comes over the radio, shit, I almost bit the ends of my fingers off in nervousness, but we were ok. Team HighRoad in the front, HighRoad, HighRoad takes the win, Andre take his second stage of the tour, we rejoiced in the car like a bunch of screaming school girls (not that I know what that sounds like, I just have a good imagination). We arrived at our van and the place was going wild, all the riders had arrived, and were ecstatic with the win, some fantastic tactics, and some fantastic teamwork had brought another stage win for the boys. The crash looked pretty mean on the playback screen, with one of the Italian riders, giving a mean head butt (it was an accident he was quoted saying later) to a Rabobank rider, Matt Hayman. He reached out over 1m to hit him with his head in the heat of the sprint, it looked mean, but only a broken collar bone, luckily.

'And of course, I would like to thank my mechanic Benny for a fantastic bike today'.

Andre was surrounded by press in a flash, leaving him no time to even get changed before they were shoving microphones and cameras in his face. But the bikes were on the roof, and the riders were in the van, we were outta here once again heading for home with a smile on our faces. The boys were animated the whole way hame, talking about the race and all the action of the day. I was watching the punters still grovelling their way to the finish on their own crusade to finish what they started, hours earlier in Mannum. With a bit of work to do, and a few bikes to wash and tune, time was of the essence, and the race village was full to the brim with the public, hoping to get their orange shirts signed by some of the riders. Waiting near our stand for more than a couple of hours, was two fans, when Andre finally turned up after the podium and doping control, I grabbed their shirts off them and got them signed before his disappeared into the hotel for the night. We celebrated a little with the team after the race, and everyone was still smiling. We were 2nd on GC, with only 18secs to first place getter, Alan Davis, nice.

And need more to look at, try here.

TDU Stage #3

Arriving at the team’s base with all the teams and riders was the easy bit, but the public had a chance to see the mechanics and the bikes this week so the tent was packed. The organisers had the team’s base open to the public all week, giving them a chance to see what goes on behind the scenes in a bike race. It was pretty cool for me to see this sort of show, and even better for the punters, a good chance to check out all the new team bikes, tools and equipment we use up close. I was busy cleaning the bikes in the sun outside, so I didn’t have to deal with any of the public, asking questions and gawking at you working, taking multiple photos. Some of the European mechanics just ignored the public completely, just their normal selves. With the people in their face all night, some of the mechanics were telling me later that their English is fine, they just thought it was funny, with question after question being asked, the public never gave up, even without any answers or acknowledgement that they heard their questions. I came out after washing, and talked a bit, again my retail background helped here, as there was some pretty standard simple questions as usual. What do you wash the chain with, what oil did you use, what pressure is in the tires, how much are the bikes. I don’t mind this sort of thing, after all, it’s these type of people at ground level, that support and enable our sport to continue at the elite level. There was nothing too technical, even though I was ready with the answers, just in case. Sometimes you got to give a little bit back to the little guys, it’s too easy to keep them happy sometimes.

From left, Rabon, Berni and Greg, getting ready to race.

Stage three was about to start, from the small town of Unley, just down the road from the event village. Actually they had a huge street party here the night before, and it looked great as we headed into it, to find some glasses for Andre, from one of his sponsors who had a stand there. I could of stayed all night, with plenty to drink and eat, and lots of the local wildlife wandering around, I had to leave, think they call it being responsible, it felt strange. But I had our German sprinting machine in tow, so had to get him home to bed, ready for the stage in the morning. Racing from Unley, we cover 139km all the way to the coast, to a wicked little town called Victor Harbour, right on the beach. Last year the race was won on this leg, with a mean head wind all the way out there, and a break bunch of 30mins in front, it was not going to be the same this time. I was hanging with the Souigneur’s again, it was starting to get fun, and it gave me a chance to ease into the men’s racing style. Nick, the team’s head mechanic was in the car for the last few stages, but I would give him a break for the next two stages. So bottle boy again, sweet, time for a sleep out on the course, and to catch up on a bit of preparation work for my upcoming races.

Franki doing his part to stop the drought in the area


We again had a bit of time to kill, so we checked out the climbs that were in the 5th stage, and found some great coffee again in the town of Willunga. The race came past, and like the last two other stages, there was a break out with three riders in the front. I have seen that before I think. After they passed us, we fanged it to the finish to get set up for the return of the lads, and to check out the last few km’s of the race. We relayed the info to Allen, our director, and then relaxed in the sun. there was plenty of people at the finish waiting. Great for any race organiser to see the public getting behind his events, and great for the riders to get the applause they deserve as they bust it through the finish-line. I found a good spot on the finish line, I had the race radio in hand, and my camera poised for that elusive shot. There was a few kids hanging around, and their mum was trying to keep them occupied for the last half an hour, but she was failing. So I stepped in, with a full race commentary translated from the French and Aussie Commissionaire’s on the race radio. The kids were killing themselves, as they listened to me talking shit, the public speaker was about a minute or two late with his comments, and he was always wrong with the translation anyway. They were loving it, as I explained all the tactics and the placements of the riders and teams in the last 20km’s, telling them when the break riders were going to get caught, and when the race would arrive in front of us. By now there was about 20 fans listening to my comments, I didn’t notice them too much, as the kids were getting my full attention, another few fans in the making I thought, and they might even start to race in the future, who knows.

The boys looking a bit frazeled out on the tarmac

The riders out the front were caught with 2km to go, just like I had predicted to my little fans a few minutes beforehand. The race was about to come into view, and here they were. That slow-motion effect was happening for me again, and worked a treat as they came around the last corner before the finish, the road was full of sprinters, moving all over the place. I spied Andre, and a few of the lads that pulled him into position, but it was not to be. Three Aussie riders got the full podium, 1st , 2nd and 3rd place for the locals, with Alan Davis taking back the jersey off Brownie (think he was 2nd or 3rd) with Andre getting 5th or something, still good for the team, and were still sitting in 3rd in the GC (General Classement).

Australia one, two , and three. Great for the spectators.

And of course, some more images round about here.

TDU Stage #2

Stage 2, for a total of 148km, starting in a small town not far from the city called Stirling. Finishing up, and passing through for 4 laps, in a German looking (they were the first settlers of this area in the early 1800’s) and sounding village of Hahndorf. The boys were feeling good, and the sun and temperature was up as usual, with our regular police escorts making lots of noise, we ventured to Stirling. Now with the race being in it’s 10th year, the local towns folk were getting right into it. With some pretty large prizes being fronted by the council for the best dressed town of the tour. Stirling was looking pretty cool, with about 100 old bikes painted up all blue and orange (must be a South Australia colour thing) lining the streets as we entered the town. Now I was getting excited, as the second stage was about to start, the race was really looking good. The bikes were perfect of course, as we had spent the previous day sorting all the bugs out of them. And the leaders Jersey was in the hands of a Aussie rider, from the only National team ever to race a Uci Pro Tour, UNI SA. A team assembled in the last few weeks, with some pretty good talent in it, including the last spot filled directly after the nationals, as it was left open for the winner of this event, nice.

Andre getting his massive legs prepped before the start.

The stage was pretty good looking, with some great little climbs leading into Hahndorf, then a 20km or so, lap around the town, with some good little grovels to get over each lap. Bottle bitch for the day again, but we were so organised this time round, we had about three hours to kill (this is such a hard life they lead). After sitting in the feed zone for an hour waiting, I did a quick calculation, the race was not passing for another hour and a half, with Hanhdorf 12km away, we left for coffee. At the edge of town there was a very nice German looking café, Chocolate No.5, sounds great. It was stinking hot outside, but as we walked into the little café, the temperature dropped considerably. When my eyes adjusted to the light, we were greeted to an amazing array of hand made chocolates and treats. We were all stunned as we dribbled looking at the treats displayed before us, and a coffee machine to boot, what more could you ask for. But as the waitress came to serve us, It then felt like we were in heaven, I was at least. Coffee, chocolate, airconditioning, and the race seemed like miles away. After an hour I was getting nervous, as we didn’t want to miss the feeding today, that was our only mission for the day, so we better not fail.

Don't they look delicious, and they were.

We headed out to the course, at least I would get a good view of the race, as we would see them 3 times on the lap, and then we would get to the finish in time to them pass once, and then see the win. First lap around there was still a break of three riders out the front, (we had a race radio with us, so this was no surprise), the bunch was just cruising past us, not worrying at all. The time gap climbed to a high of 6’40”, and that was it after two times past us, the heat was on, and the bunch was getting serious for the chase. By the time the race went past us for the third time, the break was caught, and out team plan of sending Adam with a few attacks out the front, was working a treat. Teams chased him back with all their good riders working like hell. When the race came through the finish chute for the second last time, they were flying, with more attacks happening constantly. I waited, and listened to the radio, which like normal, talked shit all day, and then when there is 20km to go, suddenly they have nothing to say.

Adam Hansen coming through the finish chute for the second to last time.

The lead police bikes came screaming through the finish-line for the last time, this was it, it was getting exciting. Hanhdorf looked pretty amazing, old German looking buildings lining the streets. With a little bit of Aussie influence here, with the veranda’s sticking out the front of all the shops. The towns folk had placed a load of big purple balloons, bunched together like enormous bunches of grapes lining the streets. This was the coolest town so far (sorry it was my attempt top stop thinking of the race coming through, you need that for nerves sometimes I hear). And every inch of the street was packed three deep with spectators. I could see about 200m past the finish line at the race directors car coming through at about 70km/hr, the boys were close. The announcer was shouting, but I was not listening, while trying to run from the van, with my camera, trying to catch the finish in time. There was a huge noise as the fans slapped the advertising boards on the barriers, my ears were trying to listen to the commentary on the race radio and the loud speakers, but the race was in sight. The sprint for the line was on, and as it came into view, I stopped. I could see the kit of Rabobank’s Graeme Brown (Brownie), and the kit of Alan Davis , UNI SA (the current leader), and then the big German rounded the corner, all in black. Yeha Team HighRoad has a chance.

And that guy in the red should learn to stay still, my perfect shot ruined. But hey Andre still looks good wining.

With absolute ease, Andre stomped on the pedals, winding out what was left of his gear. As I was looking, the sprint seemed to be in slow motion for me, but with the riders moving at 70km/hr, I must have been affected by the heat. But he came around the others, and wham, just like that, he was in the front. He cleaned up, won the stage by a bike length. What a buzz, and what a machine. I jumped up inside (albeit in a very cool and clam manner as usual). I congratulated the other team members as they passed me to the van, and then to Andre, who was ecstatic with the win. The press had mauled him, three or four deep with cameras and microphones. I have never seen this at a race with the Women, maybe one camera occasionally, how things are very different with the men. The team was happy and smiles on their faces you could not wipe off. I packed up the bikes and all the gear we had set out, and hit the road with the boys. Andre had the podium, and the ever present doping controls to contend with. The Boy’s were animated the whole way home, they had worked hard for the win, and Andre just smashed the other sprinters into submission. We were sitting in third place in the GC, with Brownie taking the Ochre Jersey, and Alan Davis in second place. Now the race was starting to hot up for the team. Time to get serious.

And more pics of the stage here.

TDU Stage #1

With the Down Under classic in the bag, it was time to start concentrating on the start of the tour itself. With a win in the first race the Men’s team had done together (almost as we were still awaiting the arrival of Kiwi Greg Henderson, lost somewhere en-route from the LA Track World Cup races), thing were pretty happy around camp. We had a day to sort out the bikes, spare bikes, car and all other equipment need for a successful mission. The team had brought down everything they need for the week, and with an allowance of 180kg for equipment, it was a bit different than the 32kg allowance I normally travelled with. So we had everything we needed and more. Stage One was pretty standard, 129km from Mawson Lakes to Angaston, a nice rolling stage through the Barossa Valley. Made famous here in Adelaide for it’s exceptional red wine, home of Jacobs Creek, and another 120 vineyards by the look of things. I was on driving and feeding duties with the two Souigneur’s, Franki and Marchello, not my first choice, but being the new kid on the team, I did what I was told, so bottle bitch would be fine for the day. Driving on the left side of the road came natural for me, so no stress for the dive to the feed station, the others were worried about driving. The race organisation had provided every team with a team car for the race, and a very nice VW bus for the transport of riders and feeding duties. So there was plenty of room for all we needed for the day, and transfers back to the hotel after it’s all over for the day.

Been here since 1851, and looking great still. We had been here since 1242 but was gone by 1357.

Kind of cool arriving at the start, in full convoy, with a police escort in front and all around us. We lined up at the start, and like a well-oiled machine, we left 15mins before the start, for the feed station. It looked kind of cool with 20 buses looking all the same, with racks and team markings heading off into the distance. Arriving at the feed zone, we had a couple of hours to kill, so with camera in hand, and a full bladder, I did some exploring. The area was still in drought, so the hills and fields were burnt brown by the sun. And scattered amongst the fields of dirt was lush looking grape vines, not carrying a whole lot of fruit on them, but green and bold all the same. Not being here before, I realised the area is dripping in history, mostly the alcoholic type. The vineyard just behind us had been making wine since 1835, with the original cellar (think it’s called Seppeltsfield Wines, at least that’s what the local guy said) still standing since 1851, it looked amazing, complete with stone storage tanks looking like an old castle turrets. With palm trees and fantastic gardens surrounding us, I felt like I was on holiday, and with a couple of hours to kill, I was. And that old adage that the Souigneur’s work pretty hard during the day, was now but a distant conversation.

Alright, who wants a feed. First time past the feed zone.


The last 20m of the sprint finish.

The race came past us twice, with the first time a break of three was out the front a few minutes, but the bunch seemed to have it under control. And by the time they passed us the second time, all was together, with the speed was high to stop more attacks. Feeding was too easy with the boys wearing black, I could spot them miles away, makes an easy job even easier. There was a bunch sprint, we sprinted, but all finished in the group, nothing too exciting, think we got a place of seven or something for our first rider. But not to worry, the race had plenty more to go, and who wants the leaders jersey on the first day.

And if you have not seen them yet, more pics here.