A bead of sweat landed on my lip; it tasted bitter. Before that, my quads had cramped and I fell off my mountain bike. Another steep climb was before me, I wanted to cry but mostly I wanted it to be over. The Terra Australis had stripped me bare, sucked the life out of me, blown my mind and there were still tens of kilometres to go before we could stop. The mountain had beaten me fair and square.
My assignment was to ride two days, 179 kilometres from Falls Creek to Bright. This was just to get a taste of the T3, a mountain bike race for recreational riders that is part of the Terra Australis.
The Terra Australis is a seven-day, 550-kilometre mountain bike race through Victoria’s high country that finishes in Ned Kelly’s old haunt of Beechworth.
The race is one of the toughest in the world, on a par with Queensland’s Crocodile Trophy, the Trans Rockies through the Canadian Rockies and the Cape Epic in South Africa.
The purpose was to get a taste of what this race is all about on your behalf, readers that live on the edge and need a dose of adventure, adrenalin and fun.
I was one of 83 competitors and had never done any serious mountain biking or cycling before. (If you do want to do the Terra after reading this article, make sure you train seriously for at least three months before the event. There are some great training programs on the event website.)
Francis Jackson, ski school director at Falls Creek, said his Terra preparation takes all year. As well as riding most nights of the week, he also enters one-day mountain bike races to increase his fitness level.
“We use road cycling for training because it is a good way to build up kilometres in the legs when getting off-road on a mountain bike is hard to do. We also ride on roads so we don’t have to keep replacing parts,” he said.
Francis took up mountain bike riding four years ago to stay fit.
Six weeks before my assignment I rode up and down bike trails around Donvale and tried to climb the steepest hills I could find. I averaged 20 to 40 kilometres each evening and my longest ride was an 80km return trip into the city to meet my ride partner, Richard Price from Tourism Victoria. Most of my training was done on bike tracks or bitumen. Before doing the Terra, I never thought I would ever use the small gears on a mountain bike.
Jess Douglas, from Forrest, in Victoria, is the current world solo 24-hour cycling champion. She entered the Terra for training purposes. “I love competition but this always breaks me. It is a brutal experience,” she said. “It is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and after you do something like this, you can put your mind to anything.”
Mark Weir lives in Falls Creek and runs the YMCA school camp. He said improving his time on the Terra Australis had become an obsession.
“It is tough every day. There is no easy day, and the whole thing is a test on how deep you dig. Sometimes you get so angry that you want to throw your bike off the track,” he said.
Riding at altitude is a lot tougher than riding at sea level or near it. This, combined with terrain and distance, has made the Terra a race you gain respect for by finishing in cycling circles.
The course is a series of walking and four-wheel drive tracks through brumby country. Most are through national parks and farms. Often the loud thud of kangaroos pounding pierces through the bush and many riders have seen wild brumbies.
I rode to the starting line feeling invincible on my new borrowed mountain bike. AC/DC’s Highway to Hell was blasting from the speakers at the starting line. Some riders were pacing with their bikes and some were staring into the distance, completely still. Some were chatting like they were waiting for a bus.
My ride partner, Richard, said, “You are always a bit apprehensive about whether you are going to make it or not, you are also a bit excited and there’s a big buzz when you are surrounded by the bikes. It’s quite addictive.”
The first part was a climb to the top of Mount Cope at the back of Falls Creek, which nearly broke me. Richard saw that I was huffing and puffing and instructed me to sit back on my seat and let the gears climb the hill.
Looking back, that hill was the easy part. There were more hill climbs, slippery slopes and just as steep descents down badly furrowed paths with rocks, ruts and logs to ride through or over. I was a mess, and if it wasn’t for Richard’s patience I would not have made it over the first hump on day one.
Sensing my greenness with mountain bike riding, he reiterated his advice to let the gears climb the mountain. He waited as I huffed and puffed up the hills and walked my bike down the mountains I could not ride down.
After a couple of hours into the journey I was already exhausted and my mind wandered. The descents were at times too steep to ride down and the ascents were just plain cruel on the legs. Myths are emerging from the Terra every year.
The event requires you to ride in pairs. The bond between team riders is crucial, and when the going gets tough, the mental support from your partner carries you through, according to Dave Evenden, a criminal lawyer from Sydney.
“You are always apprehensive entering a pairs race because you don’t want to be slower than your partner. I’m always worried about how we will react to each other when we are at our thresholds,” he said.
Richard and I had made it 65 kilometres together to the second drinks station. At that point I opted to go back with volunteers in a support car rather than tackle another 25-kilometre climb to the top of Dinner Plain. Richard soldiered on and made the second day of riding.
Along the way I chatted with volunteer Gail Smith. She said the Terra has galvanised the Alpine community. “I enjoy it and there is a lot that happens behind the scenes to make it happen. There are at times 20 volunteers at the various checkpoints that help.”
Gail said the worst job on the trail is being the sweep rider. The sweep rider sits at the back of the pack and waits for the last rider. They are there for safety and to support riders struggling with the mountains. David Kidd had the job this year.
“I see people at their worst and you have to give them the option if they want to keep going or not,” David said. “Pairs are often friends, and if it all works out well they come back the next year together, but if it doesn’t then they come back the next year with different partners.”
Before going to sleep that night, I wondered if I would be able to ride the next day. I slept like I had never slept before and woke stiff and sore. Today there were just 65 kilometres to ride.
We climbed up Mount Hotham and down again. Rain the night before had made the track slippery and a lot slower. The climbs were harder, the descents more perilous and, after pounding the pedals through 25 kilometres to the first drink station, there were two choices to make: ride 40km on the mountain track; or take the bitumen to Bright.
I opted for the easy road, and Richard stuck with me. This gave me an opportunity to see the elite riders in action. They flew by and jammed food and drink into their mouths and pockets; they barely stopped pedalling. Some chose to keep going instead of stopping for food.
The first was Roger Cull, 57, who came in first on the third day. “It hurts but it is a very satisfying thing to do battle against the terrain and it is great to know you can ride up a hill and not be intimidated by it.”
His partner, Rodney Hart, 49 said, “The hills are big. Riding downhill, you can’t believe you have riden this far up and it is quite impressive.”
Event organiser Clayton Neil said the rain had made the course trickier this year.
Rohan Tatchell crashed on day one and broke his nose on the way down about 15 kilometres from help. His ride partner, Kerry Ryan, held his head while Rohan punched his own broken nose to a straighter position.
“I don’t know what I would have done if I was in Rohan’s shoes,” Kerry said. “Stories like that make the event legendary. Everyone goes out on their own little journey in this event and it strips you bare. All emotions are bubbling under the surface, and that’s what it is all about. They are here to test their boundaries and be on the bike for five or six hours a day. We have world champs riding with weekend warriors, and everyone has the same experience.”
One of the champions that entered this year is Mark Fenner. He won a bronze medal at the world solo 24-hour championships in Canada in 2008. He is also the current Australian masters road champion.
“Mountain biking is a metaphor for life. It is a bloody hard climbing mountains and sometimes you get a bit of cream going down,” Fenner said.
“You have to overcome adversity, and when shit happens and you need to know how to deal with it. The Terra Australis to me is an adventure as well as a race. The level of competition is serious, it is an elite race and I would like to see it become more elite. This is not a race you go into half-hearted, and unless you have good experience and level of fitness you won’t make it.”
Event director Iain Moore said the Terra Australis is the flagship event for the Alpine community.
“In five years’ time we would like to see Terra as part of the international calendar,” he said.
“We are the new kid on block and slowly chipping away and getting foothold in Oz.”
» www.terraaustralismtbepic.com
2011 Terra Australis
The Terra Australis is a seven-day cycling stage race, and for the first time a three-day version (T3) was offered.
Distance: Seven days, 550km
Competitors: Teams of amateur and professional riders
Course: Tough terrain across the roof of Victoria and into the alpine valleys of the north-east of the state.