Longest Day - Newcastle
This grand Longest Day, the inaugural ride of our MC Velo HECTIC500, had already been delayed thanks to those delightful train strikes that seem to be a recurring feature of transport in Sydney. But as fate would have it, our rescheduled date of 23 December just happened to coincide with the day our esteemed NSW Labor government decided to drag the trade union to court. You couldn't make this stuff up!
A bit of legal drama wasn't going to deter the MC Velo crew. Frank, our Audax man, and who has only ridden this route through the night, was bouncing off the walls with excitement, and who could blame him? A whole day in the saddle, cruising up the coast to Newcastle, with the promise of scenic views, challenging climbs, and a lovely Fernleigh trail to finish the day – what's not to love?
The clever ones amongst us had cunningly booked the day off work, knowing full well that Christmas Eve at the office would be more about recovery than productivity. Eleven signed up for this epic adventure, with enthusiasm fueled by the forecast that Mr Tailwind himself might grace us with his presence.
Off we set to conquer the Harbour Bridge and head north. But disaster struck in North Sydney! Ecky managed to shear off his power meter medal. Naturally, he blamed his ‘excessive power’. Swerlo helped Ecky recover the pieces mid-traffic and soon we were back rolling. The incident was likened later by Swero to when Zion Williamson exploded out of his Nikes.
Our first scheduled coffee stop at the Estuary cafe in Brooklyn was a rare disappointment. Closed on Mondays? Who'd have thought to check that? No pork and fennel sausage rolls for us! Dejected, we rolled onto Saddles, where thankfully sausage roll variants were plentiful. A quick peek into the themed dining room left little doubt as to the origin of the name.
The climb to Mount White was a treat, but our progress was briefly halted by a police operation in full swing. Apparently a car had taken a detour down an embankment, and the police helicopter was hovering overhead like a giant, metallic mosquito. "Just like the pro peloton!" chirped Swerlo.
We bid farewell to Nick and Tom at Mount White, who retreated to the comforts of Sydney and its abundant coffee shops. Angela, peeled off at Woy Woy, determined to catch the 10:50 from Ettalong back to Manly.
The mercury was rising fast, so a pit stop at the Gosford servo was in order. It was so scorching that some of us resorted to desperate measures. Picture this…grown men diving headfirst into the icebox, Ecky clinging to a bag of frozen water like it was his firstborn. We could only pity the poor soul who later purchased that bag, complete with its salty, sweaty exterior.
Poor Frank managed to inflict a papercut on himself while frolicking with the ice. Of course this presented a golden opportunity for some theatrical moaning and the suggestion of an early train home. He soldiered on.
And then, like a mirage in the heat haze, Mr. Tailwind appeared! And he joined us from Gosford to The Entrance, and made false flats feel like a gentle downhill.
Meanwhile, Angela, our ferry-chasing heroine, made her connection with time to spare.
Our usual lunch spot, the Eurobean at The Entrance, was overflowing. Desperate for sustenance, we moved to the burger joint next door. A quick thumbs-up from a satisfied customer sealed the deal. Jeff initially turned his nose up at the idea, but when faced with the unanimous grin of his burger-loving companions, he caved.
The post-lunch ride was a scorcher. The Munmorah Conservation Area offered no respite from the relentless sun, and with bike computers reading 40 degrees, it felt like we were riding through an oven.
"Everyone okay?" I enquired. Simon offered a noncommittal "so-so," while Dan, bless his soul, was radiating joy. This was Dan's first venture north of the bridge, his longest ride ever, and he was absolutely loving it. "He's too happy!" sighed Simon, wilting under the oppressive heat.
The tease of a tailwind often never prevails. But today it was delivering and getting stronger by the metre. 30kph without pedaling? Don't mind if we do! With the wind at our backs, we flew up the coast, smashing our estimated arrival time to smithereens.
A new target emerged - the 15:48 train from Newcastle to Central, with enough time for a celebratory stop at Foodworks.
And then, the final stretch on the Fernleigh Track - a glorious 20km ribbon of tarmac winding its way through lush bushland and sleepy suburbs. With tired legs but high spirits, we cruised along the path, soaked up the scenery, and enjoyed the camaraderie. The gentle gradient and smooth surface were a welcome relief after the day's exertions, with the shade of the trees providing a welcome respite from the day’s heat.
We rolled into Newcastle triumphant, Dan leading the charge with a crucial question: "Are beers allowed on the train?" The answer, of course, was a resounding "Yes!" Discreetly cracking a few cold ones, we basked in the glory of our day.
A glorious day of riding, with perfect conditions and a fantastic crew. But the journey wasn't over yet. The final hurdle: getting home from Central. Some were keen for a final push, while others eyed the light rail with longing. The question in the air was whether it was shameful to succumb to the lure of public transport after a 190km epic? Jeff, finally cracked, admitting defeat and hopped on the tram with us. No judgement here, Jeff!
As Simon pondered the necessity of a shower (we won't go into details), I reminded the crew that Tuesday LapaTainers awaited us the next day, a perfect recovery ride for weary legs. Swerlo, a veteran of many a Longest Day, had already struck a deal with his wife and traded his day on the bike for a full day of childcare tomorrow. Sounds like a fair trade to us!
We took our own paths home and smiled on a great day out.
The numbers:
- 6 finishers
- 2 Punctures; one tube, one tubeless
- 189kms 2014^m
- Riding time 7:17, Elapsed time 10:08
- 5 OG Burger Specials, 1 chicken burger
- 4 days until the next Longest Day
The MC Velo Longest Day is about riding all day - no time pressure. No clock watching (except for lunch bookings). A target of 200km (or these days anything more than 160km) that brings freedom for the mind. Nothing but country air, new scenes, and all day with like-minded cyclists.
