Destination mountain bike forum, Maydena - the future of dirt

Despite living in a freezing cloud for two days, the forum was a worthwhile experience and I came away feeling some excitement for the future and also a new appreciation for the hard work of people behind the scenes. Each of the speakers and workshops offered some insights and tips for those working in various roles in government, private business and clubs. The messages that really stuck with me are:

1. These things don't happen over night - Although it seems as though developments like Bike Park Wales, Maydena and Queenstown just spring up the actual timeline from concept to construction is a lot longer than most people would realise. Most of these developments take 5-10 years from the time someone says "Let's do this!" to when the first tyres runch on dirt. During that time there will be set backs, seemingly insurmountable red tape, thoughts of abandoning the entire project and small mental breakdowns by the proponents. When they hear people say "wow, that happened quickly" they must want to stab them.

2. Not everywhere can be Derby - While the conference focused on big developments that, in some cases, revived a whole town, in reality not every venue can, or should, aim for something of that scale. For every 100-kilometres-of-trail 'destination' development we need ten smaller 'long weekend' type developments and probably twenty 10-20 kilometre trail networks where people can ride every day (my figures). There was some concern in the room that, with all the new developments that there may be more trail than riders. That supply is outstripping demand. Where are the riders coming from? My answer is that they're coming from the kids that can ride trails after school. The working people who can do a quick lap around the local track after work. People don't learn to ride at Maydena. They learn to ride on the trails close to them and this fuels the demand for the bigger destination trails. It was great to see representatives from Hobart and Glenorchy councils and I hope they walked away with an appreciation of where local trails fit in the big picture of mountain biking.

3. Maintenance is a barrier to approval - The biggest question mark over new trails is planning and budgeting for ongoing maintenance. This is an argument I have heard many times - everyone wants to build new trails but no one wants to maintain this. Relying on volunteer labour is no longer a working model. The world-famous Queenstown trails are almost exclusively volunteer built which is unbelievable given how much venue they generate for Skyline who operate the uplift. While this is not a totally one-way relationship with the company cleverly boosting club membership numbers, it does create an issue due to volunteer burn-out and the constant battle to raise money for more trails and equipment. It is surprising to hear the Queenstown club struggles to get people who want to build trails. But there is a theory that having trails has become normalised for the residents and an attitude that the 'trail fairies' will continue to provide. In contrast, the government funded Warburton Trail Development has budgeted on $400,000 of maintenance per year for the life of the tracks. This is the value the council has placed on benefits the trails will bring to the community.

4. Application of a user-pays model - Private parks such as Maydena and Wales obtain revenue from entry, uplifts, food and beverage. The model makes logical sense. Public parks like Warburton and Derby are in a totally different position. Millions of dollars have been allocated to development of these parks despite no direct financial return which speaks volumes for their ability to put a proposal together! Return on investment from projected visitor numbers and average spend can be assumed from analysis of other similar developments. However many of these have a 'public good' component in encouraging healthy lifestyles for the local community. This is harder to account for and is the basis for smaller developments in the community. With limited funds, how do councils know that their money is best spend on a mountain bike park rather than a skate bowl or walking tracks? Although there is a lot of evidence that access to cost-free (apart from the initial bike purchase) physical activity can enhance public well-being, the return from that particular investment is less able to be ascertained. In the scheme of things, mountain biking is still a small sport in comparison with other more traditional sports. Even though, in our circle, it feels like 'everyone' does it.

Thanks to Maydena for organising a great event and for the Hobart YMCA for assisting with my attendance. It's an exciting time for mountain biking in Australia and I love assisting people to enjoy the sport and live active lifestyles.

Alpine Quest 2019 - Falls Creek

In the lead up to Alpine Quest I kept saying things felt too organised. Flights, hotel, car and team mates were all arranged well ahead of time. No usual pre-race scramble to sort out the details. It was quiet. Too quiet. This could not be good. Unfortunately, I was right. The best thing adventure racing has taught me is to deal with whatever is thrown up at me. Nothing ever goes to plan, although I’d like to keep the adlibbing to the race and not the logistics. What follows is a tale of both bad luck and poor planning.

The first hiccup was when John realised he’d booked the hire car for the previous weekend. In his defence I spend almost every commute to the airport worrying I’ve booked the flights for the wrong dates. It only happened that one time. Usually sourcing a hire car wouldn’t be an issue. Except it was Thursday before the long Australia Day weekend so of course most things were sold out. Especially the things that would fit three bike boxes and people in them. Thanks to Steve from Birmingham at Enterprise cars for finding us a vehicle that worked. We hit the baking hot road to Falls Creek looking forward to racing 36 hours in a heatwave.

Three of us had adventure raced before – John and I together and Wayne with other teams. Callum we dragged in from various multisport and mountain bike races we’d seen him go fast in. The fact he had an orienteering history was a welcome surprise – mostly for John who was the only other team member who knew which way the map went. As the Wild Earth Tiger Adventure team we were a dark horse in the race for top honours with our previous team winning X Marathon the same time last year in similar conditions.

The second hiccup was when Wayne’s bike and two of our paddles were left in Brisbane by the airline. One of the risks of flying in to a small airport like Albury is that heavy things like bike boxes are the first to get offloaded when the plane is too heavy. Again, this wouldn’t have normally been a problem, except AQ had a 3-5 hour prologue the next day which would count toward our overall time for the main race. Facebook posts were put out and messages sent. We eventually obtained a paddle and PFD from race organiser Maria, another basic paddle from Peak Adventure’s Jarad Kohler and a hire bike from the local shop complete with flat pedals and triple chain ring. Not the best but at least were in the game. Just before the start of the race we changed bikes to Serge’s hardtail with better pedals and set up and swapped the number plates. With ten minutes to race start Wayne’s bike turned up so we quickly built that and attached the number plate for the third time that morning. Third time’s a charm, right?

So very hot

 The prologue went well except for the high 30-degree temperatures. It was fast and furious as maps were given after race start and a route quickly plotted. My calves exploded as they hate run legs straight up hills. The navigation was good and we hit transition with three other teams in the lead. Mountain biking was always going to be our strength and we put at least 10 minutes into the other teams bombing down all the black descents with a grin. It was on the climb back out from Flow Town that the full force of the heat hit. We stopped at every trickle of water on the mountain to refill water bottles and soak heads. Absolutely stifling. It must have been a fountain of youth as I felt (finally) great hitting the road for the climb to the lake.

I gave Wayne my carbon blade and took the crap fibreglass one thinking that it would be better for the person who was least able to contribute watts to have the rubbish paddle. But the blade was much bigger than my ¾ paddle so it slowed our stroke rate and we consequently limped around the kayak leg. After spending some time in thick scrub looking for a check point John started screaming like he’d broken his leg. His hamstrings were cramping badly and I gave him my usual sympathy by encouraging him to ‘stretch it out babe!’ as I ran past. We were caught by Alpine Adventurerers at the end of the paddle and Thunderbolt were close behind. Once on the bikes we held our position and finished in second place.

Up at 4am Saturday for the main race we were on buses to Omeo Valley to start with a kayak down the Mitta Mitta river. We knew there wouldn’t be much water but after a bit of boat dragging there were some really fun sections. Fun for Callum and I as the lighter boat, less fun for John and Wayne who got hung up on every shallow section. We kept having to wait for them and eventually found out their boat had a leak and about 20 kilos of water in it. Bad luck I guess.

Team tactics: "I'll take the small chick, OK?"

We had a fast transition building bikes and getting our food and gear together. Somewhat marred when, after 15-20 minutes of riding on a road that didn’t look quite right, we realised we’d headed in the exact opposite direction as the course from the TA. This can happen when nobody is looking at a compass (nobody was) and when people are relying on ‘left and right’ instead of north and south. It’s easy to forget you got out on the right-hand side of the river and then disorientate yourself to the map. Bad management.

I never assume the win is lost as races can turn on one check point. But it was now less likely and we were pretty deflated to have made such a big error early on while in a great position. Making our way back through slower teams we started the big climb up to the ridge. I can honestly say I’ve never been so thoroughly cooked in any race I’ve done. Struggling to push bikes up an endless, impossibly steep fireroad in close to 40 degrees, I had the goal of making it to the next shady spot before hunching over my top tube and trying to breath/not pass out. I was in front of the team which told me they were struggling as I absolutely suck at walking my bike up hills. This is why I try to ride the steep stuff as much as possible (cue: 30 tooth oval chainring). 

At the top of the hill (well there were always more hills, but the big hill) most of us had run out of water. Wanting to let the guys rest but also conscious that were we getting dehydrated just sitting there, we pushed on. With just 1.5 kms to transition it was all up hill and John was looking pale and shaky. I pushed his bike and he walked while being pushed by another team and collapsed into TA. The volunteers where wonderful getting him cold packs, water, electrolyte and a comfortable place to rest. We got ourselves ready and packed his gear up. I wasn’t sure we should go out on the 12 hour trek but thought the setting sun would help with the heat and we could slow the pace. I did the girlfriend thing of lubing his sweaty feet and putting new socks on as he cramped every time he tried to do it himself. The lengths we go to.

Adventure racing transcends team rivalry. Thanks for the push guys.

We spent most of the trek walking with the Wild Yaks and it was nice to experience the more social side of adventure racing. It’s so busy before the race, and people are so wrecked after, I don’t often get to meet other racers. They were looking strong and we picked up the pace until John started vomiting. I’m not talking about ‘oh I’m going to be a bit sick’. I’m talking about on his knees, hanging off his walking poles and hurling until he was dry-retching. This went off and on for 4 hours and we were halfway down to check point 25 before we reassessed our situation. He couldn’t keep fluids down and needed to rest. We weren’t sure if he was going to get worse and if there was a shorter way to a main road to get picked up. In the most remote part of the course, on a mountain ridge near the Bogong summit, we had a satellite phone but wrote the emergency numbers on the paddling map which we’d left at the last TA. Bad management.

We were laying back on the grass with our head torches off admiring the stars but Wayne also commented on a large cloud so I thought a storm could be on the cards. Sleeping on the trail wasn’t an option so we trekked back up the mountain to Maddison hut. Except Maddison hut doesn’t exist anymore despite what the map says. Three kilometres further we finally fell into Cleve Cole hut and disturbed a bunch of walkers at around midnight.

Happier times with the Wild Yaks who ended up in third spot.

John got a spare space on a bed while Wayne and I went outside to gorge on beef jerky and BBQ Shapes for dinner while watching the lightning across the valley. We accosted an unsuspecting camper who went for a toilet break and managed to use his mobile phone to call HQ. The plan was to bed down for the night and they would send us an evacuation plan in the morning. Another kindly camper gave us two sleeping mats and I finally fell asleep when the door opened. There was Tiger Adventure founder Trevor looking a little worse for wear and various members of two teams who had got in a similar predicament to us. Except now it was raining and they were close to hypothermic. I gave up my mat and crawled into the other bed with John and wrapped us both in a foil blanket to keep warm.

Another kayaking shot as we disappear from the official photographs at this point. Water looks nice and cool.

Race HQ had texted our camping helper, Billy, a new map with the exit point. It was a trek toward the top of Mount Bogong then down a spur to shelter in another hut. Once we were there, we were to contact the pick-up crew and hike the final few kilometres so we didn’t get caught exposed waiting in the weather. It felt like a proper adventure as we trekked across the ridge in a 60kph cross wind with sleet that threatened to blow us off the mountain with every step. In a weird way, this was my favourite moment of the event. We were seeing a part of the course that no other teams saw. The view down the valley from Mount Bogong was stunning and with the cooler temperature this felt more like the rugged Australian Alps. Once at the hut the reception on the phone was patchy but we managed to ascertain that the 4 wheel drives couldn’t make it up to Granite Flat Spur so we’d have to hike down Eskdale Spur instead. We were very happy to see the event crew at the end of the track and Callum did a great job leading us out.

So this is my second DNF in a row (third if you count the Did Not Start when Gary ended up with appendicitis before Geoquest 2018). I’m getting a bit of a complex as I generally prefer to finish what I start. I learned more this race than any other race though. I generally just focus on keeping up, hanging on and carrying extra stuff if needed. I looked at the map more than any time before and had to monitor and look after team mates. Giving directions while keeping motivation up is difficult. Organising logistics and problem-solving is both exciting and exhausting and fundamentally what adventure racing is about. I’m really looking forward to the next one. But for now, it’s 100% bike as I prepare for the Cape Epic in South Africa. Maybe a run or two a week just so I don’t have to go through the agony of resuming running AGAIN.

Thanks:

Adventure Junkie Event Team

Tiger Adventure

Wild Earth

Flight Centre Sports and Events

Infinit Nutrition Australia

Ride Mechanic

NS Dynamics

Absolute Black

A week in Tassie - Bringing in 2019

Working over the new year, it felt like 2018 had just kept going on to some sort of 13th month. I needed my New Year ritual to find the attitude I'd carry through the next 12 months. My first big event for 2019 was the inaugural Bike Rite Advanced Women's Weekend in Derby. It started as a Facebook post bemoaning the lack of women at the recent EWS qualifier. The inclusion of trails like 'Detonate' as mandatory put a lot of riders off. My coaching activities are fueled mainly by the desire to help people. So help people down Detonate I would. To be honest, I was pretty nervous about some of the features myself. Some do require planning, deconstructing and thought. And some are better when you don't think too much, which is how I've been riding a lot lately. Being forced to examine some trails led to too many 'what if' scenarios going on in my head. And if you thought about the 'what ifs' on every ride you'd never step out the door. My best advice is to work out the skills you need, practice those skills in a non-lethal situation. Then when you barely have to think about executing them, apply them to the high tax situations. I got a real buzz watching everyone in the group try and achieve something they never would have before. What a great way to kick off the year!

It is unbelievably tiring being responsible for other people's safety so after leaving Derby on Sunday night John and I had a vague plan to head west and explore some of the other riding spots. We had 5 days to fill but the legs needed a rest from the Derby-fest so we set up camp in Narawntapu National Park. Being in an isolated natural area was lovely until we ran out of ice for the esky. Cue pack raft inflation for a short paddle across the waterway and a random walk for ice. It was perfect adventure race training - looking like weirdos, carrying a raft down the main street with only a vague inclination of where we were heading. A friendly local empathised with our plight for cool beverages and spotted me a lift to the IGA.

I had fond recollections of the State Champs course so, the next morning, we headed to Kelcey Tier to check out the trails. I also wanted to look at some other options for upcoming kids and women's skills courses there so we did a few laps that didn't include the infamous Organ Donor black descent. There are some really great trails here and it is quite easy to string together a 1.5 - 2 hour ride with a couple of trips to the top. The Rigor Mortis descent is a must-do if you like the jumps. Which I do.

We spent a good portion of the week subsisting on a diet of carrots, hummus and tin soup (great post-Christmas weight loss program) so lunch was an express affair before heading to Penguin. Parking up at trail guru Marcelo Cardona's place (with prior invitation) we did the easy meandering climb before heading on to the Mount Montgomery circuit. Such a fun pump-track descent then into the bike park for some twisty single track with fun wood features and a hectic free ride park at the centre. The park needs a little upkeep and it would be nice to see some of the money being thrown around for trail development go to Penguin to ensure trail access for locals and a variety of MTB experiences in Tasmania. After a lap of the park it was a shorter than expected grovel on tired legs before a ripping descent on Marcelo's private bike park with a few features I might leave until my skills have advanced. Thanks so much to Marcelo and Margo for their hospitality for the evening which meant the tent could stay in its bag for the night. After sunset we headed to the local spot for some penguin spotting and almost tripped over them on the way down to the beach. The fairy penguins are ridiculously adorable as the waddle awkwardly up the beach and it was very difficult not to pop one in my backpack to join the menagerie at home.

Kids skills park at Penguin - note the drops progression!

Everyone has been banging on about the new Mersey trails so we felt obliged to check them out. Let's say it's a work in progress as there are realistically about 30-40 minutes of riding. But the plan is for 100 kms in total so this is bound to be a future riding destination. Making the most of a warm day we headed up the Mersey River and put the packrafts in. I remember why we don't pack raft. Even with my own raft I find it impossible to get comfortable. Maybe because I'm too short and keep hitting my elbows on the sides. I definitely need a booster seat and a small child to sit in the front so the bow doesn't flip sideways with each paddle stroke. Luckily the current carried us most of the way down although another 200 mm of water would have made it slightly more fun with less bum-hopping moves in the shallow bits. There were enough fun rapids to keep us entertained while we watched the white bellied sea eagles loft on the breeze. The guide book says platypus also frequent the river but we didn't manage to spot any. I will declare the Mersey Tasmania's warmest river. We jumped in for a swim at the gorge which is not something I ever thought I'd say here. The warm feeling didn't last but we stashed the rafts and started the jog back to the car which quickly got a sweat up.

Camping at Arm River for the night and out of phone reception, we carb loaded (cheese has carbs, right?) for the next day's 40 km hike up to Mount Ossa, Tassie's highest mountain. Being so focused on planning for the Derby weekend, I'd forgotten almost everything I needed for our mountain hike like thermals and gloves. A decision I am now ruing after doing 5700m of descending at Maydena with a large patch of skin missing my my right palm. I crash much more trail running than I do mountain biking. The Arm River track is the closest access point for an Ossa hike. Being an offshoot of the famous Overland Track it's well maintained and the new Pelion Hut, about 2 hours into the trip, is fairly luxurious by mountain hut standards. With a steady climb to Pelion Gap my heart rate only spiked while jumping a Tiger snake on one of the many duck-boarded sections. The push up to Mount Ossa peak is a bit of scrambling but tame compared to our Mount Anne adventure. Not as lucky with the weather this time we got brief views of the lower Mount Doris and the valley below. John did mention the cloud conditions and how pointless it would be to get to the top with no view. It has weirdly never occurred to me that we do these things for the views. 8 and a bit hours later we were back at camp and demolishing the rest of the hummus and crackers. Just an FYI that Mr Tiger Snake appears to live at that particular site beside the duck board so we got to say 'hi' on the way back as well.

Driving back to Hobart the next day we agreed we'd packed a lot into our week. But that barely scratched the surface of all the places we want to experience in Tasmania. We have a white board full of crazy ideas and will be working our way through them in 2019. We probably won't be the first or the fastest to do any particular route. And there may not be views. I just do it because I can, and one day that might not be the case.

The decline of home cooking and link to obesity

So much of what's in this clip went through my head this week as I was preparing dinner for one. Life with a shift worker means a lot of dinners alone, something I'm very familiar with having lived solo (except for my daughter when she was home) for over a decade. On some nights yes, I had toast or maybe a bowl of peas for dinner after a chronic case of CBF. But 99% of the time, I cooked a meal that I would have served had another adult been dining with me. So this week, I used my alone-time to try out a new salad recipe. Trying a new dish always increases the shopping and preparation time with unfamiliar ingredients. But once it's in the repertoire, the efficiency increases. There are times when I wonder why I put so much effort into food preparation and what a waste of time it is. Then I catch myself. Something like eating, which is absolutely vital to good health and survival, is now regarded as an annoyance. While I think the video is a bit simplistic in terms of suggesting home cooking would always be superior to eating out and that obesity isn't caused by at-home foods, it does highlight the disconnect between our fundamental life necessities - healthy food, exercise, relaxation - and our perceived necessities - a big house, expensive car, latest iPhone. When we sacrifice the fundamentals for the illusion of 'must haves', we lose. Sometimes we lose our lives.

My ex husband was a chef and there is a mistaken view that we had gourmet meals constantly. For one, when cooking all day it's the last thing you want to do at home. But the best thing he taught me was that cooking doesn't have to be complicated. Get a few good ingredients and some simple flavours. I rarely make a recipe that relies of specific vegetables because if capsicums are $12 a kilo, there's no way I'm buying them. I have no issue with 2-3 dishes on high rotation and using flavourings like pestos, dressings and simple sauces means I can serve almost the same vegetables and protein every night and it tastes like a totally different meal. The images of a couple dancing around the kitchen while cooking are probably far removed from the reality of one parent (usually mum) cooking after a full day at work while the other parent is either still out working or ferrying the kids from an activity. But is it the video that's wrong, or the reality? Having a healthier relationship with meals and seeing the preparation and consumption of them as a time for connection is something I really believe in. No screens, everyone sitting at the table and everyone getting a chance to talk about their day. Studies have found a link between eating at home as a family, without the TV on, and increased fibre and vegetable intake and reduced BMI in children. That's something worth taking time for.

The Gender Debate

I’ve held off entering the gender-optional debate until now. But I live in the first Australian state to consider legislation allowing people to decline being assigned a gender on their birth certificate so it got me thinking. What are the ramifications of this? Why is it important? How is that related to women in mountain biking?

My first reaction – what a crock. We’re either male or female at birth and, barring rare genetic disorders, it’s pretty clear which team we’re on. There are obvious physical differences between men and women in both the genitals as well as the tendency for men, on average, to be taller and stronger than women. These boys who ‘identify as female’? Well unless you have a vagina and get crampy once a month, you don’t meet the criteria. Then I started thinking a little deeper. What do they actually mean ‘identify as female’? From mere observation, it seems to mean adopting certain habits that society has defined as female. Things like wearing lighter coloured clothing, make up, long hair and perhaps a skirt. Maybe speaking a little softer or playing with ‘feminine’ toys like Barbie. And ‘identifying as male’ appears to involve wearing shorts and t-shirts, cutting your hair short and eschewing make-up. If that’s the criteria then I’ve ‘identified as male’ for a large portion of my life. I was the quintessential tom-boy growing up and have had crew-cuts at various stages of my life. I rarely wore make up because ain’t nobody got time for that when there were bikes to ride and trees to climb. Plus, growing up in Queensland humidity without air-conditioning, there was nothing pleasant about applying foundation as fast as it slid off your face. In other words, my decision on what to wear or not wear was based on personal preference and lifestyle factors. Not my gender. I'm rather relieved to have grown up in an age I wasn't being rushed in for gender reassignment surgery.

So why does wearing make-up and skirts make someone ‘female’? It doesn’t. It makes them a person (male or female) who prefers to wear certain clothes or cosmetics and SHOULDN’T have anything to do with gender. I was listening to this podcast yesterday which claims that less than a hundred years ago, boys and girls were dressed the same and calling attention to their gender was seen as unconscionable until puberty when it actually mattered. Having pink and blue clothes was a huge marketing ploy to sell more clothes when they couldn’t be handed down between siblings. It would be great to go back to that and do away with boy and girl-specific toys and games. Until the age of 10 there is no physical difference in size or strength between the sexes so why segregate them or treat them differently?

Unless I’m going to the doctor and they’re trying to decide whether to give me pap smear or check my prostate, I shouldn’t, on a daily basis, be asked if I’m male of female because it should make NO DIFFERENCE. As a form of protest, I actually ticked ‘not specified’ on the gender box at the Virgin check-in this morning (which is weird because I don’t recall ever being asked for my gender before? Do female corpses dismember differently in a crash?).  This whole concept of being assigned a gender should end with the physical basics that are only really important in very limited spheres. Even in jobs requiring strength, the litmus test should be if you can carry the heavy thing, you get the job. I believe the fire service and similar are the only ones to still have rigorous physical entrance requirements. But I, as a 160cm female, would apparently pass so, clearly, they are not restricted to the top echelons of body builders.

Why does this matter? Because if we can be conned into believing that there is gender specific clothing, we can be conned into believing there are sports, jobs and behaviours that are also unsuitable due to gender. This is where the real inequality lies.  And I don’t just mean for women. Whether it’s lack of female CEOs or politicians or the number of men who take their lives each year because talking about feelings and stuff isn’t ‘masculine’, gender stereotyping (or just gender) doesn’t serve anyone.

This all might seem a curious point of view for someone who makes their living from women’s only mountain bike skills coaching. But my industry only exists because our society keeps perpetuating the myth that gender puts people at a disadvantage for certain skills. In terms of being able to manoeuvre a mountain bike around a trail there is no reason that men should be better at this than women. And yet the women who come to my sessions are really bad at this compared to most men. What they ultimately lack is not the ability, it is the belief in their ability. This is not some innate female quality, but the product of 40 years of being treated differently. Of being more protected, of having more risk ‘managed’ out of their lives. Of being sent subtle, or not so subtle, messages that mountain bike riding is dangerous and women shouldn’t do dangerous things. It’s buying your daughter a pink bike with a basket and streamers that is basically useless for actual riding and getting your son a BMX. My brother and I got Malvern Stars one Christmas. I was far more ‘sporty’ than he was but I still got the pink step-through style while he got the one with the high top tube. To be honest there may have been no difference in performance between them, but you never see someone on a step-through racing. The message was clear and still is.

My partner and I took his boys to the park to kick a football around last week. I don’t like to blow my own trumpet but I was nailing the kicks, left and right footed – straight to the hands. It occurred to me there are few women my age who could do that. The only reason I CAN do that is because of year 11 PE. One semester the girls were told they were doing netball and the boys would be doing AFL. Being a feminist far beyond my time, and not really understanding the attraction of netball, I protest loudly and to my teacher’s credit, I was permitted to play AFL. But why weren’t all the girls playing AFL? Or the boys doing a semester of netball? The differences in speed and strength could have been evened out with mixed teams. My other love was soccer but the only girl I knew who played had to play for a men’s team as there weren’t any women’s teams. I finally got to play in senior year as things were moving with the times. The fact we now have women’s AFL and World Cup just blows me away and I don’t think young women today realise what a huge change that has been. (Note, I believe that sports based on physical strength and speed should still be segregated due to the physical differences outlined in the start of this article. And that includes ‘transgender’ women who, despite the same testosterone levels now, possess greater response to testosterone and will never be biologically matched to women. But that’s another blog post!)

I don’t want to focus too much on elite sport. When I was deep in that world it was hugely important. Now I wonder, if all the professional sport disappeared, would that have any impact on the everyday person aside from less time spent in front of the TV and less overpriced branded gear bought. It actually might encourage more community level participation as there is little correlation between elite sport and recreational participation rates.

But there I was yesterday, the only woman in Elite, racing the state mountain bike championships which is a far cry from world cup ‘elite’ level sport. Racing isn’t for everyone and that could be a personal preference. But when women are outnumbered by the men 20 to 1, I cannot believe that can be accounted for by differences in personal preference. Statistically, there is no reason why women should want to compete less than men, unless they are receiving messages from society that competition is bad or not ‘feminine’. Mountain biking is a very male dominated sport, period, and I don’t think anyone – from clubs, MTBA, race promoters – is really aware why. Competence breeds confidence. And everyone, from parents down, is telling girls that mountain biking is not the sport for them. Particularly the technical side of mountain biking which includes steep descending and obstacles. The women I teach have no confidence because they have no competence. They were not encouraged to ride, do wheelies, or take risks as kids so they are now playing catch up. There has been huge progress in mountain bike skills in juniors over the past decade, but the gulf between the average girl and the average boy remains because the messages remain.

I got to ride with some close mates from Brisbane at Maydena recently including my mate Matt, who basically got me into mountain biking. As we were shredding down black trails at similar speeds, he said “I forgot you don’t ride like a chick”. And he’s right. I don’t ride like the average female. I am much more confident in my ability and am still looking to get better as skills don’t have much to do with age. I can’t tell you why, other than speculate that a childhood growing up without a car meant I had a foundation of confidence on a bike. This made it easier for me to transition to riding off road. I rode with people who were better than me and I wasn’t afraid to fail. I didn’t see falling off as embarrassing but a realistic reflection of how long I had been riding and the work I’d put in to learning the skills. I have no competence with swimming so the idea of being with a couple of hundred other thrashing bodies in the open water doesn’t appeal to me at all. My friend Gill is a very competent swimmer so she often competes, although she wouldn’t line up for a mountain bike race.  We both compete, but our competence lies in different areas.

Having competence in different areas which influences our preferences and attendance at events is all fine, unless our preferences are being dictated to us by gender attitudes in society. I can cut my hair and wear pants but I’ll still be recognised as female due to bone structure and other physical tells. And your subconscious bias will come into play which is why we need things like quotas for female participation in business and politics. Are the differences in gender participation at mountain bike events concerning for anyone other than race promoters who want more profit from race fees? Doubtful. I’m more alarmed at the drop in participation in sport generally when people transition from childhood to adulthood than I am about the participation difference between girls and boys in physical activity (around 10% depending on where you read). But sport tends to be a reflection of society so the alarm is that, as enlightened as we believe we have become, gender stereotypes are alive and well and perhaps doing away with gender as a concept is a worthy goal.  I do not accept that men and women have different preferences and abilities in physical or mental skills so any significant deviation from a 50% participation rate in any field deserves closer analysis of social conditioning. Women are not naturally crap at mountain biking and leading companies any more than men are naturally crap at talking about emotions and nursing. They both conform to expectations and conditioning. It will take many generations to address the inequality so the sooner we start the better.

Check out these podcasts too:
Rethinking evil - on the real reasons for violent crimes by men. Calling bullshit on the testosterone argument
Be the Change - A couple's fight to raise their child free of gender

7 day Ultimate MTB Tour with Tasmanian Mountain Bike Adventures

When Phil from Tasmanian Mountain Bike Adventures approached me about coaching a tour, of course I was interested. There’s nothing bad about working on the bike, especially in Tasmania, despite the fickle weather. When he launched the 7 day Ultimate tour, I wondered what sort of people he would get signing up for it. Who would need a coach for a week of mountain biking? Absolute beginners hoping to ride the greens at Derby? Or those hoping to get out of their comfort zone? I brushed up on my Detonate riding, just in case it was the latter.

By the November kick-off we had a group of 6 – five friends from Perth and another from California who they’d met on previous road cycling adventures in Europe. These were fit guys accustomed to spending several hours a day on bikes appreciating the landscapes. It was great they all knew each other too as the banter flowed between them without too much input from the guides. It reminded me a lot of my old Thursday morning MTB group although somewhat more censored (at first). The brief was to experience varied terrain and show off quintessential Tasmania. Phil definitely delivered on both counts.

Day 1 - Hobart

Welcome to Tasmania. Brisk temperatures and strong winds. In the van to Fern Tree we did an easy warm up on the Pipeline track to ensure all the bikes were working well. This ended up stretching out as we discovered a bent rotor (thanks baggage handlers) and then Phil got a sizeable stick which killed his derailleur. Better to have it in Hobart than on the West Coast though. Reloading at the Fern Tree Tavern, we headed up to the Springs and gave the group their first taste of the North South Track. I’ve avoided this since the damage and forgot how good that top section is. All ferns and moss. After some coaxing the group had a crack at some of the log rides while I held my breath. Descending to Main fire-trail we hit up some of the choice South Hobart trails while the group got accustomed to the steepness not found in Perth.

A burger pit-stop at South Hobart and it was in the van to Meehan Range. I’m not sure going straight up the XC climb was the best thing after lunch but it is the most direct route to Clifftop for sensational views over the city. I took the more energetic crew around the Flagstaff Mountain trail and back down Corkscrew which was proclaimed ‘better than sex’. I wondered where Derby would rate as that’s a pretty high bar. By this time Phil’s group had managed the third mechanical of the day ensuring our breakfast would be taken at Avanti café the next morning to sort out bikes before heading to the wilderness.

Day 2 – Montezuma Falls

Although it doesn’t look it on the maps, the West Coast is quite a drive from Hobart. After breakfast and bike repairs, the group kicked back in the bus while being transported to the still-wild part of Tasmania. One rider had missed the memo about not wearing lycra in the mining towns so an early purchase of baggy shorts was made. The moonscape around Queenstown from mining and deforestation has started to regenerate, much to the chagrin of the locals who claim it’s their town’s greatest attraction. It possibly is although the chicken panini at the café was given the thumbs up by the crew.

The last time I rode the Montezuma 4WD track, I ended up face down in a mud puddle after a clip-out failure. My retelling of the story enabled one of the boys to re-enact it perfectly as he took a dip in ‘Jodie’s Day Spa’. We were all looking like mud-bath victims at the end of 14km where the spectacular falls came into view. Gingerly working across the 200mm wide cable bridge, we could admire them from up close before the 5km ride to the far end of the trail where our driver, Roger, was waiting. Being able to do point-to-point adventures is a huge bonus of being in the hands of TasMTBA.

Montezuma Falls - Tassie's best waterfall

Although we were camping at Zeehan, the large canvas tents were a far cry from my usual ‘almost two person’ light hiking tents. And the comfort afforded by the thick inflatable mattresses and -20C rated sleeping bags has potentially ruined me for roughing it. But the real revelation was the silk liner which enabled warm, friction-free movement throughout the night. It really is more like glamping especially with the catering and port by the fire.

Day 3 – Climies Track

So there’s a reason the West Coast is so green – it rains a lot. Woken by a torrential downpour at 5am, it had eased off to showers as we hit the start of Climies Track. This 4WD track follows the coast between Trial and Granville Harbours and is popular with off-road motoring enthusiasts. A fellow camper at Zeehan had done it the night before in his truck while towing a trailer. This took about 4 hours while I was surprised it could be done at all. By MTB it’s more of a 1.5 – 2 hour adventure sandwiched between the wild coast and Mount Heemskirk and smaller peaks. The area looks very Scottish by both terrain and climate. Although not single-track, it is quite technical with rocky climbs and descents and deep water crossings. There were several ‘no dab’ climb challenges thrown out with beer prizes. At the halfway points stands a memorial to three people killed after being caught in fast flowing water there in 2006. The waterfall they were swept over is stunning on its descent to the nearby ocean.

Not all mud is as solid as it seems. At the Granville Harbour end of Climies Track.

There had been a flat tyre at the back of the bunch but having two guides meant the rest of the group could keep moving, if only to keep warm. This track was used as a stage in the now-defunct Wildside mountain bike race. It’s old-school mountain biking at its best. Bundling into the van we were still surprisingly warm and half the group opted for a quick lunch then a beach ride at Macquarie Harbour. It was like fate intervening as, just as we started the ride, the sky cleared to a perfect bluebird afternoon with the tide at its lowest ebb giving us hard packed sand. Phil had cleverly even managed a tail wind for us so we motored down the beach barely pedaling.

We really lucked it with the weather for our beach ride at Macquarie Harbour.

We got a dinner tip on our reconnaissance trip and the local pub did not disappoint. Getting into some of these regional areas reminds you what value-for-money dining was like.

Day 4 – the van, mostly

The commute from Zeehan to Derby made for an epic travel day. We seemed to have lucked a good window to pack up the tents until it started hailing on us before we got them in the trailer. Passing close to Cradle Mountain there was snow falling which was lovely watched from the inside of the warm van. A day off coffee, sausage roll and sandwich stops we arrived in Derby just in time for it to hail on us again. A quick run up to Black Stump and a slippery, hesitant descent of Flickity Sticks got everyone accustomed to the single track before climbing back up and doing Return to Sender to whet the appetite for the next couple of days.

Staying in a cavernous house in Branxholm, another great meal at the local pub. I can’t remember ever having steak that cheap or good.

Day 5 – Blue Tier et al.

Waking to perfect blue skies this was the best we could hope for as we headed to Weldborough and the top of Blue Tier. This descent is an absolute must-do by anyone who calls themselves a mountain biker. Arriving at the bottom just in time to grab coffee from the Welborough pub, the van took us to the top of Atlas missing out all the boring fire-road climbing. There’s still plenty of climbing on the Atlas trail itself though. The guys requested I lead out so they could follow my lines and know which rises were followed by drops. I cottoned on to their game shortly after we began when I ran over the tail of a very large and healthy Tiger Snake. No one wanted to lead out after that.

The lushness of Derby.

The 2 Doors Down café is the perfect spot for lunch in a hurry as they pre-prepared burritos were toasted and hoovered down before the afternoon session. Half the group opted for a gentle roll down from Black Stump and straight into the pub. The other half were on a mission to fit in as many runs as possible before we could no longer safely grip our bikes. Scoring the second fastest run of the day (according to Strava) down Return was no mean feat with all the EWS riders turning up for practice. Some ripping runs down Flickity Sticks and Howler the boys then gave me a run off to do the trails of my choice. I didn’t really have the energy for Black Stump, Shearpin and 23 Stitches but I rode them anyway. Absolutely love that route.

At the Tuscan Fox that night I ran into Flow MTB’s Chris Southwood who was covering the EWS round that weekend. When I first met Chris I was repeatedly falling down a rock garden at the Oceania titles in Rotorua. Now, taking other riders to fall down rock gardens, it made me realise the full circle my riding career had made.

Day 6 – Running on fumes & Chain of Lagoons

Could we squeeze any more riding out of the legs? Yes! Pottering around the Dambusters and Krushkas loop was a nice change of pace from the breakneck riding of yesterday. Both trails climb gently and flow on the descents. Offering stunning views across the lake, it was a great way to roll the legs over for a last run of Blue Tier. As rain started falling at the top, the descent was markedly more slippery than the day before. We wrangled showers from the Weldborough Hotel and Phil managed to pick up a hitch-hiker while we washed bikes. Ben was an IT guy from Canberra was perhaps over-geared and underprepared for the solo ride from Launceston to Hobart he had embarked upon. He was happy to score a lift over the big climbs to St Helens in return for a carton of ales leaving us to ponder the contents of his very heavy frame bags. It was a toss up between cans of baked beans or severed heads. We hope he had favourable winds for the rest of his journey.

It’s rare to see as many stars as we did from our camp site just north of Bicheno. In the stable weather of the East coast we enjoyed perfect conditions for tall stories by the camp fire as well as the usual discussions on religion and politics. Falling into comas in the tents we had an early morning start to make the 10.30am ferry to Maria Island.

Glamping Tas MTB Adventures style.

Day 7 – Maria Island and Australiana

My last trip to Maria Island was with my partner in howling cross winds, paddling from near Rheban. Apparently there is a perfectly good ferry that goes across from Triabunna. It was warm, nay, hot as we headed off for our first jersey-only ride of the week. The climb up Bishop and Clerk wasn’t exactly what our legs needed and it was bliss to walk the remaining third through the boulder fields. Less so for those who had ignored Phil’s warning to bring proper walking shoes. The view from the top was breath-taking and we enjoyed it eating our pre-packed lunch at the top. For those who haven’t been, there are absolutely no services on the island and the Coffee shop is nothing more than a historical display so don’t get your hopes up (Yes, I fell for Phil’s promises he’d placed my order).

View from the top of Bishop and Clerk. Definitely worth the hike.

Spotting wombats is like those old 3D images – once you see one, you see them everywhere. We didn’t see our first one until well after our descent and exploration of the Fossil Cliffs. One of the guys lay on the ground to get a better shot. The wombat waddled over to say ‘hello’ then promptly gave him a love-bit on the forearm. Most were friendly enough for a quick pat though and we even managed to spot a baby in the pouch. They were chopped liver once the echidna made its appearance though. These guys are pretty rare and I’ve only seen a couple in the wild. This one had found a nice nest of ants though and wasn’t leaving, opting to huddle into a ball and hope we all got bored and left. Maria Island is a magical place if you love wildlife. It’s amazing what a lack of domestic animals and people can do for the native animals.

Wombats a plenty. Felt a bit weird with a group of us looking up its butt though.

It was all over too soon. Some guest DJing in the car on the way home with several of us napping at times. It was an amazing week on the bike, essentially doing a big lap of Tassie. We covered some must-dos while exploring some of the lesser visited parts of the state. If you want to focus on riding and enjoying some bike time with your mates, getting on a Tasmanian MTB Adventures tour is the way to go. Let Phil and co. do the driving and take you directly to the best MTB spots and the places with good coffee.

EDUCATION HAS FAILED AS A PUBLIC HEALTH POLICY

Airplanes are an interesting microcosm of human existence. I love air travel. I love being cocooned by airports offering every convenience at 180% of it’s standard market value. This is a place I catch up on work as I literally have nothing else to do. Many of my blogs are written in airports as being trapped in a metal can without the distraction of Wi-Fi encourages reflection. I sincerely hope Wi-Fi never approaches a reasonable price during flight.

Today I am seated beside an elderly couple. The woman struggles for several minutes to reach the seat belt around herself before the buckle makes the familiar click. I pull the arm rest down to prevent her partner from spilling out into my seat. This will be a long, uncomfortable two and a half hours where my spine is curved towards the aisle to allow me enough room to type.

“They must be getting shorter” she remarks. 

Yes, I’m sure that’s it. The ability of people to deceive themselves never ceases to amaze me. I am not in the habit of fat-shaming. But I do call a spade a shovel and it is clear this couple is obese. In our society they’re more common than someone of my build is, so perhaps they’re looking at me with the same bewilderment that I am observing them. I confess I was primed before boarding by reading several articles on the lack of physical activity by Australians, various theories on diets which could be more effective in controlling weight and an article encouraging women to put themselves first and some general recommendations on healthy lifestyles. I read them with growing cynicism. None of this is new. None of this is different to any of the messages which have been repeated ad nauseum over the past decade or more. The first article confirmed what is very clear: none of the messages are having any effect on physical activity or obesity.  As a public health policy, education has failed miserably.

One of the more interesting articles was a study on mice who were given either free access to food 24 hours a day, or access restricted to a 10-hour window during the night, which is when mice naturally feed. They did some cool things with gene alterations in one group but that’s not the interesting part. As a diet strategy, intermittent fasting isn’t new. And I have been trialling the 10-hour window myself during some training down time. I have noticed (warning: n=1 experiment) that forced to delay breakfast until 10am and denied any snacking after 8pm has resulted in eating one to two less snacks per day. This would equate to around 600 calories a day which is the recommended reduction required to lose half a kilogram per week.  So I assumed that the protocol achieved weight loss or maintenance by simply reducing the amount of food people eat. The study did show slightly lower calorie intake by the time-restricted mice but not enough to account for the differences in weight gain. In summary, the time restricted mice stayed lean and metabolically healthy while the mice with 24 food access became obese and developed metabolic risk factors similar to cardiovascular disease in humans.

The study concludes there may be something magical about eating all your daily calories in a 10-hour window versus spread out during the day. I am skeptical as I come from the ‘calorie is a calorie’ school. Also, there may be some failure to account for increased physical activity during the eating period in the 10-hour mice which resulted in more energy expenditure. Either way, it does seem that, however it works, cutting down the window of food consumption during the day may be a good strategy. Given their tendency to subvert good ideas though, I do anticipate people gorging on fast food during the 10-hour window and then being surprised at the failure to lose weight.

During a month’s stay in regional France, I did make an observation related to this idea. The restriction of food outlet opening times to meal times. I recall trying to get a meal at 11.15am and being almost faint with hunger only to be told that the restaurant opens at 12pm and not a moment before. I could have coffee though and the French do such poor work with milk it would undoubtably be black. The restaurant then closed at 2pm and would not trade again until 6.30pm. There was only one fast food restaurant located on the outskirts of town. I wondered if it was the lack of availability of food that corresponded to the lower rates of obesity in these areas? Would McDonalds be so bad if it was only opened for a couple of hours at breakfast, lunch and dinner? Did this change in trading times for convenience foods predate the sharp rise in obesity?

There is a lot of evidence for the metabolic value of fasting. As an athlete we are often conditioned to think of hunger as a bad thing. That the slight pangs of hunger indicated our hard-fought muscle gains were being catabolised by starvation. The 10-hour strategy is most certainly useless for athletes. For those training at 5.30am they would need to have dinner at 3.30pm to follow the program. And it has been repeatedly shown by studies that poor fuelling before sessions results in low quality training and sometimes failure to complete the set workout. However, on days off or recovery days, it is conceivable we might have a black coffee, do an hour of easy riding and make morning tea our first meal of the day. Emphasising our calorie consumption around exercise and then sticking to standard meals for the remainder of the day could be effective for those in the “but I’m doing all this exercise, why aren’t I losing weight” category. And repeat after me – there is no meal after dinner.

Another article on the failure of Australians to get the recommended amount of physical activity each week. How is this even possible? We have the best climate for getting outdoors and access to some of most stunning areas to recreate. One article blames the computerisation of the workplace for a lack of incidental exercise during the day. Another study shows that those with the most physical occupations have the poorest health. Confused yet? In general, physical jobs are the domain of lower skilled, less educated and lower paid workers. And there IS a correlation between income and poor health and obesity. So, if obesity is an income problem, isn’t it logical to use monetary measures to address it? I have considered that food should be sold on a cents per calorie scale. Although for someone with a high calorie consumption due to high level training, that does negatively impact me. Should 100 calories of broccoli cost the same as 100 calories of sugar? I know which would lead someone to feeling more full and also provide additional nutrients while that amount of sugar would hardly be noticed. 

The sugar tax is the closest thing which tackles the obesity issue on this angle. And it fails to account for the alternatives which aren’t taxed (fruit juices) but are not that much healthier. It also does nothing to address the myriad of other foods, like potato chips, which are linked to increases in body weight. But I do believe that if you want to ‘nudge’ the population to making better choices, you have to price the undesirable choices out of the market. See how effective cigarette taxes have been in conjunction with sales and consumption restriction. Surely food could be treated the same. It is not a mystery which foods are linked to obesity (processed) and which foods are not. No one ever got fat on broccoli. Increase the taxes on processed foods until the obesity levels drop. Restrict trading hours for food outlets. No one needs an ice-cream sundae at 2am. It is the responsibility of government to intervene in this problem as clearly society is unable to help itself. The obesogenic environment is a real thing – 24-hour access to cheap, processed and nutrient-free food is costing society billions of dollars and lives.

Why do I even care about people being obese? Let them kill themselves. It’s free choice. Firstly, I do care. I care about those who genuinely want to improve their health and aren’t succeeding, either through lack of resources or failure to follow advice which can be complicated, conflicting or impractical. I have all the time in the world for people who have the will, but not the way. I do not wish to watch one more television show which shows how easy it is to lose weight with your own personal dietitian and trainer. This is not a realistic option. Secondly, it enrages me to see the burden on the public health system which is so unnecessary and prevents those with serious problems, not brought about by their lifestyle, from receiving treatment in appropriate time frames. Obese people don’t kill themselves. They suck up medical resources to manage their multitude of conditions and extend their life far beyond what it would be without these interventions. I don’t advocate for a system which refuses treatment to those who are deemed to have brought it on themselves. The complexities of apportioning percentages of blame to factors is far beyond administrators and not close to being moral.  Which leaves us with the current system where people are being refused timely treatment for a range of illnesses due to lack of capacity of hospitals.

So back to our couple on the plane. I look at what they're ordering. They have the same unusually healthy plane snack that I do of some lavosh crackers, capsicum dip and celery sticks. They don't even finish the dip. Tea - no sugar. Going well so far. Then the man pulls out a ziploc bag of lollies and they proceed to munch away during the flight. And suddenly it all becomes crystal clear. Face - meet palm.