Ok, maybe the 9W isn’t exactly the be all and end all of cycling routes… : )
We finally found a terrific place to ride here on the east coast of Oz. And it just so happens to be the course for the Gold Coast Half Ironman next month.
Having said that, it was quite an ordeal to find a good cycling route – we literally spent hours driving around the Gold Coast in the pouring rain last week looking for places to ride.
One drive in particular tested out the old stress level. We were driving inland towards Australia’s Hinterland (after Zane, our local fella at the Gold Coast Triathlete store said “Mate, just ride into the Hinterland, there’s supa cycling routes there.”). As usual, Scott was driving and I was the co-pilot with the all important job of reading the map and providing directions.
It was all going well until I failed to notice one seemingly tiny, insignificant detail on the map. About 40km from town, the road ended abruptly in the middle of nowhere. And Scott had failed to mention that we were woefully low on gas….
So how did it all go down? Well, there weren’t quite as many I love you Hoochie and I love you Spice’s on the drive back. But, thankfully, the 40km drive back was mostly downhill, so following Mr. Jordan’s expert driving example in Tahoe, Scott coasted back to the land of the living pretty much in neutral all the way, and rolled into the first gas station on fumes. Phew!! Who ever said this tri-surfer lifestyle wasn’t stressful?!?!?
We finally found a terrific place to ride here on the east coast of Oz. And it just so happens to be the course for the Gold Coast Half Ironman next month.
Having said that, it was quite an ordeal to find a good cycling route – we literally spent hours driving around the Gold Coast in the pouring rain last week looking for places to ride.
One drive in particular tested out the old stress level. We were driving inland towards Australia’s Hinterland (after Zane, our local fella at the Gold Coast Triathlete store said “Mate, just ride into the Hinterland, there’s supa cycling routes there.”). As usual, Scott was driving and I was the co-pilot with the all important job of reading the map and providing directions.
It was all going well until I failed to notice one seemingly tiny, insignificant detail on the map. About 40km from town, the road ended abruptly in the middle of nowhere. And Scott had failed to mention that we were woefully low on gas….
So how did it all go down? Well, there weren’t quite as many I love you Hoochie and I love you Spice’s on the drive back. But, thankfully, the 40km drive back was mostly downhill, so following Mr. Jordan’s expert driving example in Tahoe, Scott coasted back to the land of the living pretty much in neutral all the way, and rolled into the first gas station on fumes. Phew!! Who ever said this tri-surfer lifestyle wasn’t stressful?!?!?
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