ALMOST THE LAST DRAFT

The date of the long awaited Six Foot Track - The Slower Version! had arrived, and an anticipatory group of excited Cool Runners descended on an unsuspecting Katoomba on Friday night for a pasta meal and recognisance of the next days activities.

Lucky Legs, Peter the PRB, Wombatface, Wildthing and the ‘worth-his-weight-in-chocolate’ Mr Wildthing and I met for dinner at The Hatters Cafe a few doors up from our quirky, but entirely adequate, accommodation at the Town Centre Motel. Late 50’s red brick motel rooms provided plenty of opportunity for Lucky Legs and I to giggle like schoolgirls sharing their first dorm room for most of our time together, whilst the Wildthings were in the penthouse garret in the adjoining 1930’s St Elmo Guesthouse.

A buffet breakfast was included, and with the ‘Heritage’ Dining room opening at 7:30am, we were first in to ensure that we could get to the Explorer’s Tree meeting place for the 8:00am start. I was resolute in sticking to FortiJuice for the day or two pre-run, however others tucked in to a ‘Big Breakfast’ of sausages, eggs, bacon and toast. I made the unfortunate error of drinking the very bad instant coffee, which was particularly foul – not recommended and not to be repeated!

We piled into the ideal transport of Mr Wildthings’ Pajero and drove to the Explorers Tree in steady drizzle. My main concern was getting too cold during the day if the rain continued, and I hadn’t finally decided what to wear. At the designated meeting point were Horrie and Belinda and Chonky. After introductions or re-introductions all around, we posed for a group photo next to the tree, huddled close together as the rain fell down from the trees overhead in huge globs.

Reluctant to carry too much, I settled on keeping on a Cool Running Tri Top over a singlet, with a R4YL cap to keep the worst of the rain off my face. At around 20 minutes past eight we started in the wet and slippery conditions, jointly surprised at how quickly the wider section of track gave way to a series of steps descending into Nellie's Glen. This was incredibly beautiful, although slow going. While Chonky ran off ahead to get to the river and back for a ‘quick’ run, our group of six stayed together for safety. This was an experience not a race!

The descent into Nellie's Glen was spectacular through the deep gorge with the rock walls rising vertically on either side. With the rain continuing it was sometimes difficult to tell where the creek ran, and what was run-off from the rain on our course. Good track markings of a Red Hiker and arrows led the way at intervals to ensure that we went along the correct water course!

The path widened, and Horrie and I were delighted to finally be able to stretch our legs, and jogged along comfortably, climbing through a gate on the first barrier, and then finding green metal stiles at all the others. In one stretch, the sound of birdsong was deafening, with Bell-birds and Whip birds dominating the raucous. It was good to move along, and the track moved through varying countryside, still wet from the deluge before emerging at the dark stripe of bitumen to mark the roadway at Megalong Valley where Rob Wildthing was waiting for us, camera in hand.

Here we shed rain-jackets (Yay!) and Wildthing (Sob) as the sky had cleared and we were eternally optimistic. Another group photo shivering together at the Megalong Valley sign as we gazed off to the mist rising from the mountains and we were off, through the fence and past the historic cemetery. A 4WD with car trailer came along and past us soon as we were moving, indicative of the grazing land that we were to encounter over the next few kilometres.

A wide firetrail style track was marked by PRIVATE PROPERTY - NO TRESPASSING signs on either side, easily ensuring that we wouldn't make a mistake diverting up the driveways to the farm-lets in the Valley. I began to feel cold with the light breeze on my sodden Tri Top, so unzipped this to my waist leaving only a relatively dry CR running singlet next to my skin. Cattle grazed all around, which meant that as we regrouped for a photo op at the cattle grid which marked the start of our trek along a single track surrounded by the vivid purple haze of Paterson's Curse we were all covered in a fine black film of flies. Supported by the cowpats which we were soon to become vigilant in avoiding, the number of flies was enormous and very annoying.

A track led up through the spring growth of still-green grass over a hillock and alongside a ridge-line. Eventually leading to a forested area of narrow single track through bushland. Mysteriously, a cow or cows had preceded us, and we were alerted to the occasional huge globs of dung along the narrow path, one with a large footprint (?Chonky's) in the middle. Nearing the river, as we had just traversed a gully, Chonky came bounding along in the other direction and we stopped and chatted briefly before he continued on his speedy way.

He had advised us that a small party of young hikers were ahead, and sure enough, as we rounded the bend to the dramatic sight of Bowtell's Suspension Bridge. Built in 1992 by an army outfit, it is named after the first soldier of the unit to have been killed in Vietnam. A couple of young guys in camouflage fatigues were snacking at it's base. Peter announced that he was going to cross, and as tempting as this was (the sign indicating that it was strictly for one person at a time), I decided that we didn't have time for too much play, with another 30kms+ ahead of us. When I told Belinda and Wombatface what Peter was doing though when I caught up to them on the track, each turned back to try it as well.

I was only seconds behind Horrie when I got to the designated crossing point at the Cox's River, about 1.5km along from the bridge. A good opportunity for an excursion into the bushes, and I then sought to find which of the trails led to to the best way across. With the river level somewhat higher than is usual in March, this was not obvious. I did some scouting before starting to cross, then heard the call of the ChickyBabe as she made it down to the river. I backtracked, and we crossed together, hopeful that the Polar footpods would continue to work at the other side. (They did). Horrie settled on a log, squeezing out his socks and refueling, whilst LL sought the water tank adjacent to the camping site.

After a long delay, the group of 3 bridge walkers came through and crossed the river. Five Trail bike riders were having a break here as well, and after we studied the maps, topped up water and posed for the obligatory photograph with my low resolution phone (sorry for the quality!), we were on our way to start the traditionally hardest part of the track. Horrie and Belinda came along for a short distance to 'just see' what the hills were like before turning back. We were now a rag tag gang of four, bright is CR colours of Yellow, Blue and Green.

This point marked the climb up Mini Mini, and wound its way through the bush from the 15.5km mark (from the river crossing at the lowest elevation, right) to a saddle with a dramatic, large, overfed Red Bellied Black Snake on a wall adjacent to the track. I was alerted to the fact that we had mobile coverage here on receiving a text from Aki and attempted to call the Widthings to let them know where we were. Rob let us know that he was at Pluviometre, and with the hills continuing to rise, it seemed a long way away.

We had committed one of the first crimes of distance running 101, and underestimated our water needs for this leg. The verges of the tracks were dotted with the tall straight trunks of majestic eucalpyts, and the ground littered with a colourful carpet of native flowers in a spectrum of mauve, purple, violet and yolk-yellows. I started to collect these at one point, putting sprigs in the band of my now-empty fuel belt. Despite only picking one, invariably small bloom of each type, my waist was soon laden with dancing flowers.

Around this point, our favourite ChickyBabe was beginning to wane and kept entreating me to go on ahead as she rested a little. With the long lean legs of Peter and Wombatface striding off in the distance I insisted that the first law of bush-trekking was never to leave someone alone. When sitting on a pretty stone 'bench', fatigue and the big breakfast came to haunt her, and concerned about dehydration, I headed off to find the Wildthings, an estimated 3 kilometres away with Peter when he and Wombatface had returned to view. We walked, rather than jogged this section, and I was fascinated to note that we were doing a comfortable 13-14:00 minute pace walking easily, whereas my usual insistence on 'running' (a loose term) often had me at well over 15 and even 18 minute pace.

On a bend we came across a couple of hikers, weighed down with backpacks and camping gear, stopping to munch a apple. We bid them farewell, and continued, rounding yet another bend to see 'something' in front of us; I discounted it being the Pajero, rationalising that it was a rusted structure or Workman's donga instead. Wildthing's CR Tri Top drying on a log meant that we were in no doubt that we had come across our wonderful support crew. It turned out that we were only 1.9 km away, so before too long, Wombatface and Lucky Legs came striding up as well to rest, rehydrate and recuperate in our designated lunch stop.

I changed into blissfully clean dry socks, and left my Tri Top and singlet on a sign to dry out a little in the emerging sun. Although not especially hungry, I used the opportunity to have a FortiJuice, Fruit Squeezy and risked a Special K bar for something solid. I had had two Gu's along the trail before this. I drank plenty of water though, and ensured that my fuel belt bottles were full. Wombatface made himself a couple of tomato sandwiches, Lucky Legs was introduced to the low GI wonders of creamed rice, and Peter had a couple of bread rolls with cheese. I Stripped down to a crop top, we were off once again, this time with Wildthing jogging with us. My Forerunner indicated that I had stopped for over 56 minutes at Pluviometre.

There was another 220m climb to reach the highest point, but this was spread over the luxury of around 8 kilometres. We all jogged and walked in a companionable fashion, with Rob Wildthing leapfrogging ahead every few kilometres, allowing us to refill water bottles and for some to munch salty potato crisps. Wombatface, the resident expert having completed the last two six foot track runs kept reassuring us that the last significant hill was over, and once we turned the next left bend . . . .

We crossed a number of creeks and welcomed the cool water on our hot feet. After Alun Creek, we came across a gully full of ferns which was a vibrant luminous lime green in the late afternoon light. Tree Ferns stood sentinel overlooking the thick coverage of ferns covering the ground across the gully and up the banks of the trail. It was rather surreal . . . .

We noticed the stand of pine trees and a sign looking as though it indicated a forestry coop, and could hear the sound of what seemed like traffic in the distance. Not too far along the trail with the pine plantation on the right hand side, we saw a solo runner travelling light, carrying only a water bidon. Then, at crossroads was the welcome sight of the Pajero and and the wildthings chatting to a bearded guy called Alan. After introductions all around, we found that he was camping at the nearby campsite here at the Deviation, and was here hiking with a few mates from Canberra.

Checking the map for distances, our gang of four headed off again, meeting the Pajero at the roadway to Jenolan Caves, and agreeing to 'pick up' Wildthing further down the track where it veered off running parallel to the road and we had around 4 kilometres to go. The track in this intermediate section was a surprising mix of steps and tight single track, relatively slow going as we now neared our destination. Where the track widened to open, spindly forest, everybody was able to move along pretty well.

After around 3 or 4 kilometres the trail came to a clearing where it veered away from running parallel to the roadway. Here we met the Pajero, Wildthing joined us, and we were all exultant with the prospect of finishing soon. Close to the start of the diversion, a sign on the left hand side of the trail indicated that there were 4 kms to go. A wide undulating trail led to a clearing where there was a toilet block and an open field with the Jenolan Cabins backing on to it. Through a fence, and the quality and width of the track changed, followed later by the thickness of the vegetation. Cracks of dramatic thunder broke through the late afternoon silence, sometimes developing into an extended rumbling which never seemed to end. I wondered if Town Hall Station was nearby and the world's longest train was about to arrive.

It apparently became fairly fairly loose and shaley along here, with a few steep descents, however I was too busy chatting to the wonderful Wildthing to notice! At some point the track changed to a sealed tourist path which wound it's way down to Caves House. A mixture of sloping narrow track and occasional steps, the track afforded some spectacular views over the valley and to the lake. We had to stop at Carlotta's Arch for yet another group photo, where we could see the lake framed by the dramatic limestone.

Over the final few hundred metres we probably slowed down in reverence of the gravity of what we, the Lucky Legs six foot track assault, had achieved. Dusk was descending in the valley, and a few flashes of lightening lit the sky which was already a luminous azure. All our senses were overwhelmed, the creak of crickets no match for the wall of honeysuckle to our right. We (mostly!) joined hands as we walked the final steps down to the roadway at Caves House where Rob and his camera met us.

To 'do it properly', we jogged down to the correct finish point and celebrated. The odd couple came out of Caves House for a postprandial stroll, and we rejoiced in every strange look. Our group at the finish were wearing matching Blue and Yellow tops and caps, under-dressed for the cooling conditions, and smiles as wide as the Mammonth Cave ahead of us.
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The weekend will give Bob a chance to update the computer without me lurking around, toe tapping, waiting to blog. Hopefully, some of the replacement equipment will start to arrive next week and we'll be able to be truly productive in repopulating them with data (and backing up!).

I met up with Bob preparing to do the 40km bike leg, Rad and the PRB awaiting their team swimmer at Acton Ferry Terminal where there was a huge congregation of supporters at the transition point. News came through that Ron had cramped in the swim and was receiving assistance in the water. With another bike leg for him to do, this was a concern and we looked at alternatives.

He swam up confidently though, in a very credible 1:21:57 for the 3.5km leg and Bob was off on to the trails and mountains of Canberra’s western fringe. Despite the changes to the swim legs and Milly’s illness, we were still 7 minutes ahead of our draft schedule.

There was around two hours before Bob would complete his cycle, and the waiting is always the hardest, especially when unsure of the time. The PRB and I went for an enjoyable coffee at The Deck at nearby Regatta Point, before popping by Rad’s place to check on how things were going. I was starting to get anxious about the time though so we didn’t stay for long.

The 5th transition area was a buzz with activity; bunting marked the changeover chute, and relay runners were nervously lining up for the port‑a‑loo and seeking to warm up whilst keeping a watchful eye on the mountain bikers coming through for the end of their leg.

I had changed into dry clothes as soon as I finished the first run, and although disappointed to have ‘ditched’ the Cool Running Crop Top, the clean clothes and socks were very welcome. My Garmin 301 had also not coped very well with the previous run leg; it was set on auto pause, and my ever-so-slow movement forward up the steepest sections had caused it to stop, no doubt exacerbated by the thick tree cover and poor GPS signal in some places. The footpod of the S625x coped better, underestimating a little (I had not recalibrated it for the Asics Foster shoes I was wearing during this leg), but very consistant and close. I turned auto pause off, and hoped for a better Garmin result.

There was no news about the location of the riders, as they trickled through as individuals or in small packs of 2 or 3. Bob’s distinctive red Swiss jersey and knicks with yellow helmet came into view just before 2:00pm (original estimate 2:15) and I left him to collect the car keys from a friend and dashed off to follow the PRB and David Baldwin who had already started their run.

I had become a bit stiff in the intervening 3½ hours, and knew that some light jogging would help to begin with. David and the PRB slowly increased their gap to me, and I was overtaken by a couple of young women with team numbers on them. Slow and Steady Carolyne. Big Picture.

Maybe a little unfortunately for me, this run leg only had one mountain climb, however it was right at the beginning and unrelenting. We were immediately required to climb up the northern face of this hill, and while I lost ground to those in front and to those who passed me, I keep moving my legs in a running motion (I’m sure walkers would have past me), and made it to the Trig Point at the top and a welcome drink station without too many ill effects, even though the pace was painfully slow.

Now the long steady downhill section began, blissfully steep at first on the SE slopes of Mt Taylor to begin with, and then over the rolling tracks at the base and onto a series of bike paths traversing the Tuggeranong suburbs. This was alien territory for me and I was reliant on following those in front and for the white arrows that marked the way. This was fairly boring and having passed one woman in front I found it hard to concentrate and focus on the run – it was flat to slightly downhill, but over concrete paths between houses and green belts with few people in sight. I was very annoyed when a couple of guys on mini-bikes the size of a clown’s bicycle came tearing past me, spewing noisome two stroke fuel and plenty of noise pollution into my face.

Eventually, the Lakeside path came into view and a number of wetsuited swimmers were visible on a sandy beach area around the other side. With the finish within reach I was inspired to pick up the pace and finished within my anticipated time of 1:15. Bob was wearing the Team’s Aqua Blue Cap and went bounding off into the water when I tagged him.

Post leg nutrition: 1 Special K bar; 2 Gu; Saxby's Diet Ginger Beer; 1 FortiJuice; 1 litre Mineral Water.

The weather gods were smiling on us for the Sri Chinmoy Triple Tri; light cloud cover and mild conditions with a light breeze greeted the over 900 competitors (21 individuals and 131 teams of 3 to 9) for the 5:30am start at Lake Ginninderra on Canberra's northside.

This remarkable event is a crazy concept and logistical nightmare; swims in each of Canberra's man made lakes, linked by arduous and often technical mountain bike legs traversing the hills and nature parks and runs over the peaks of Mt Majura (824m), Mt Ainslie (814m), Mt Taylor (855m) and Red Hill. The amazing Sri Chinmoy Team here in Canberra organise this extremely well, with busloads of helpers, eight transition points and many intermediate aid stations. Amazingly, it works.

The tradition of previous years had established that "Rad's Ravers" had to be entered; a fun team of friends and supporters of the inimitable Rad Leovic, the inspirational 78 year old triathlete of all of us in Canberra. Last year was my introduction to this event as a participant, where I had elected to do the first run leg, the most stunning tour of northern Canberra over the summits of the the two peaks as the event of the same name. The point to point Sri Chinmoy course is more interesting however, with a portion through the single track of Majura Pines and final kilometres past the War Memorial and along Anzac Parade and around a portion of Lake Burley Griffin.

I did well last year, and thought that it was one of the best events I had ever been a part of. I longed to be more involved this year, and having seen Mister G take off on each of the run legs secretly held this to be my goal. With a running focus in Rad's contacts, we were able to stitch together two teams this year; an over 50 team of eight competitors (one swimmer doing the 2 shorter swim legs); and a 'family' team of four - Father Ron electing to do two bike legs, daughter Milly each of the swims, and Bob taking the other bike leg whilst I ran. The lead up and preparation hadn't been ideal, although I was keen to do it. Bob wasn't so optimistic and kept reminding me that he could/would do the final run leg. Having competed (and won) the run legs in a team of 3 during the first year he knew what was involved and expected me to crash and burn. Spouse of little faith.

Milly's wave started at 6:05am and she was not well from the outset. Tagging Ron for the bike leg, she was taken home to bed, hopefully to recover from a 24 hour lurgy. I was oblivious to this as I started my first run; very slowly and conservatively over the stiles and along the orange trails around the base of Mt Majura. I counted those who passed me in the early stages, and concentrated on 'pacing myself' and taking it very easy. I wanted to do all the legs and there was a long day ahead. I couldn't mind when Emma Murray came flashing past with a smile on her face!

Slow on the ascents, my fitness had deteriorated over the last few weeks, however nearing the end of my second course of antibiotics meant that my wheezing had ceased and I was breathing more easily. Slow and Steady. At Mt Majura we clambered over a sharp rise to circumnavigate the Trig Point, before descending again to begin the welcome roadway descent for a kilometre or two. I was concerned to see individual competitor, super volunteer and Bilby supremo, David Baldwin walk/jogging backwards on this stretch; he had been far behind his partner at the start of the run and had problems with both of his glutes. To need to walk backwards so early in the event did not auger well and was of great concern.

Despite dosing up on too much Imodium (as usual), a wombat stop was necessary in the thick bush between the Majura bushland and the lush needle carpet of the mountain bike tracks of Majura Pines. I adore this section of the course, it has a sense of a magic forest while one searches out the white arrows on the ground.

Through the open trails around the base and on the slopes up Mt Ainslie. It is a good route up the northern side, partly on narrow, shaded tracks. A steep clamber over to the roadway at Mt Ainslie, and another circuit to the Trig Point before beginning the long, steady descent down wide shallow steps, and a winding sealed path to the War Memorial, dodging many Sunday morning walkers looking on with surprise as they were passed by a succession of sweaty runners with race numbers barrelling down the track. Over a grassed section, and we were then on the homeward stretch. Supporters sat on the edge of some of the national monuments to nurses and seaman cheering as we went past, and the lake beckoned in front. Around "Blundell's Cottage" and on to the north shore of Central Basin. Not far to go now.

I had estimated around 2 hours 10 minutes for this leg, and knew that I had to be much slower than the 1:50 I flew through last year. Nearing the business end and knowing that it was flat, it looked as though two hours was in reach, a good measured and sensible result. I called out for Milly as I came to the transition chute, not knowing that Ron was doing the long swim (3.5km) leg. We tagged and changed over, and I went and drank dozens of cups of water in the little marquee.

One down!

Pre Leg Nutrition: Demi-tasse of espresso. Water.

Post Leg Nutrition: 1/2 Endura Energy Bar. 1 'Fruit Slurpy' (apple puree). 1 FortiJuice. 1.25l Mineral Water. 1 Long Black. 375ml Saxby's Diet Ginger Beer.

Firstly, How can one thank Peter, the PRB sufficiently? Thanks to him, I am now able to tap away (albeit briefly) update the blog, catch up on news, and type out the lists we so desperately need!

Thank you, thank you, thank you a thousand fold!

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On Thursday last week (10 November), some person or persons unknown illegally entered the house through a window on which they broke the lock. Despite me only leaving for the pool (on foot) at 2:15pm, and Bob and I returning home together exactly 2 hours later, the place had been ransacked and thieves took off with all portable and attractive items of computer equipment (3 laptops), and small peripherals; camera equipment and lenses; items of jewellry; watches and a Polar HRM; and a number of digital tuning shortwave and other radios.

Whilst we were quite fortunate in many ways, our entire life is digital these days, and being unwired has been a challenge. Ironically, doing what is required for insurance, replacement equipment and research for increased security is far too time consuming and difficult without the computers.

Hmmm.

This is most curious, although I feel pretty damn good at the moment.

Another mega hyper night sweats on Monday night, leaving me drained, groggy and feeling pretty terrible for the morning. Bob had gone for a cycle, and suggested when he got home that we go for a picnic when he got home. Not showered or dressed, he thought we should go straight away, and with the bulk of the country caught up in cup fever we were confident that it would be pretty quiet. Still with a shocking ear ache and bad eyes, we dropped by the local Turkish Pide House for a warm loaf of turkish bread and a small container of houmous and tabouli. We then drove down to Uriarra Crossing and sat by the river on the eastern side.

The river gurgled, there was birdsong from innumerable species, and the weather was fine. Although a kilometre or two off the 'main' Uriarra Road which carries very little traffic, at late lunchtime on Melbourne Cup Day, there was none. I didn't have much houmous or tabouli because of the fibre content, but I really enjoyed having something solid to eat. Feeling so delicate, I didn't think that there was much danger of doing much activity too soon.

Then an amazing thing happened; I began to feel better and better. The sharp ear pain and sinus pain ameliorated, which might have been due to the Panadeine Forte I had popped on leaving home. But this couldn't explain it all. We wrapped up our rubbish and returned to the car to put on shoes and grab hats and went for a walk along the river. We didn't get too far, heading south, but there was a carpet of wildflowers for much of the way; Canberra violets, vivid egg yellow native poppies and much more.

In the other direction we came across a board indicating the Murrumbidgee River Walk, a 6km return walk along the river bank. Although heavily overgrown, it was signposted and we found our way to the roadway where we lost the trail. Not to be walked this time, we must return to find the trail!

Feeling so much better (fresh air?), we left just as the 3 o'clock news started, and reluctantly switched over from Radio National to the local ABC at the conclusion of the news to hear the final 1,200m of the Melbourne Cup. The result surprised us both. Feeling better, I decided to give the ACT Cross Country Club's first twilight run of the Spring Series a go, albeit slowly. Changing the flat tyre on my bike, Bob and I rode down (separately), me arriving as people were lining up to start. With the PRB's help, I changed my shoes, took off the layer of cycling clothes and was there for the start. Peter and I ran together as usual, me holding him back, and although only a flat 5k, I found the going pretty tough. My legs were fine, but breathing was difficult, and I attempted to hide the pipe reverberating wheeze which I felt compelled to make.

We crossed the line in 24:09, and it took me some time to recover. Water helped! I was pleased with my legs, but concerned about how hard I found a slow, short run. Thank heavens to daylight saving, Bob and I did cycle home together. I felt great up until my bath, where I submerged my head. After that the sinus pain was once again immeasurably bad, and I was quite deaf in my right ear. I couldn't work this out. More Forte to get to sleep, and again when I woke to change the bedclothes during the night. Not feeling so optimistic - my doc doesn't work on Wednesday, so I would have to wait. Very frustrating.