Monday 1 December 2008

Day 6

Satuday November 29th, Day 6

Over the years, I think it is fair to say that I have had my fair share of close-to-death experiences. But whilst the passage of time has pushed these events to the back of my mind, at the end of day 6, the events of today have caused me to pause and reflect again on some of those moments from the past 10-15yrs...

Clinging on to a ridge of rock for dear life on the edge of volcanic crater in the Tongarirro National Park in New Zealand, as hurricane force winds tried their best to send Clive and I over the edge; hiking 25kms through the Philippine rice fields in the dark, with a steep cliff on one side, carrying no water, suffering severe dehydration and drinking what we could from from stale muddy puddles (Clive again); Diving off the Great Barrier Reef, misunderstanding our instructions and swimming south for half hour 18m below sea level, and with the East Australian current eventually surfacing practically out of sight of our boat a couple of kms away ("The only thing that saved you was the weather!"); offpiste skiing in the French Alps, through trees and forests, high up in the hills above Chatel, light disappearing fast as night approached, to suddenly pop out of the woods on the top of a vertical cliff precipace! (thanks Mark); Dehydration again in Mallorca following 6hr hike over Tramuntana mountains with only 500mls of water between us (Rob and I) - to be saved by that orange tree (18 oranges in 20 minutes is still a record I believe!)

I could go on...

I should have guessed that today could go a similar way from the moment I emerged from my tent 1st thing this morning. Within a 100yds of where I was pitched, there were 4 kangaroos beating each other up:-



Hmm, time to pack up and get out of here. I load up on carbs 1st with a huge bowl of muesli (no milk though, so use water, yuk!) and a bowl of curry noodles, before Mark and Phil arrive armed with a bacon and egg batch for me, mmm, lovely - these guys have been a welcome addition to proceedings!

Having sort of learnt a lesson from yesterday, Phil has decided on a t-shirt AND a fleece today, and has also purchased a Gatorade drink! He sets off and Superman's his way off up the hill and, once again, is quickly out of sight. Mark has been lumbered with the road bike again and does his best to peddle up the hills, but understandably struggles.

All though is well and we all meet up again at Tom Groggin (home of Man from Snowy River) a few hours later. It has been uphill all the way and we still have about 700m of ascent until the highest point at Dead Horse gap (1580m high and 13 km away) and then it should be a leisurely 5km cycle down to Thredbo.

Phil decides that cycling is too easy and says that he will ditch the bike and run up?!? He sets off and Mark and I follow on the bikes. The weather is a little showery as we leave, but this is ok as it keeps us cool as we slog on up the hill. The showers soon stop and for 2.5 hours we meander our way up, admittedly walking much of it. It is hot and I am quickly drenched with perspiration.



At 13 kms, the road is still heading up? Strange - we can't be too far from Dead Horse Gap now...? The sky is also getting grey again and a few large drops of water begin to fall.

Within 30 seconds the temperature drops considerably, the heavens open and before you could say "I wonder where my waterproofs are?" we are absoulutely drenched! It is, from nowhere, suddenly absolutely freezing cold! (amazing what happens when the sun disappears when you are 1.5km above sea level). I pedal on ahead of Mark in attempt to generate some heat, but my thin base layer and 'waterproof' smock are soaked through and suctioned tight to my body. I cycle on for another 1km, still no sign of the top. I catch up with Phil. He looks like a drowned rat. He thinks we are finally at Dead Horse Gap? There is a 'viewpoint'. Phil reckons that he can see the silhouette of a 'dead horse' across the valley?? I look out but visibility is less than 100m. I conclude that Phil must be losing it and I wonder whether he has the classic hallmark signs of dehydration and early hypothermia?? Lightning and thunder suddenly flash and crash concurrently, and the freezing rain hammers it down. Hmm, this is starting to get a little serious. The feeling in my hands is draining away fast. Mark has taken the sensible decision to turn back and drop to a lower altitude. He will return for the car and meet us in Thredbo. A car goes past and I flag it down for Phil to jump into. Phil declines - his Australian man-pride at stake! I am in a catch 22 situation, the slower I am moving the less heat I am generating, but the faster I go the colder the effects of the 'wind' are. It is every man for himself now...15kms, 16kms, 17km... still no sign of the top. I have never pedalled so fast uphill before in my life. My hands are completely numb and I struggle to press the levers to change gear.

At 19kms from Tom Groggin! the road plateaus and finally I see the Dead Horse Gap. I, for some stupid reason, fumble about with the camera to get a snap (bloody tourist):-




I have been thinking and dreaming about this point for the last 6wks! But I am not elated, just extremely, extremely cold.

The rain is still pounding it down, the thunder and lighting still right above us. I am concerned for the other 2, but I can't stop otherwise I'll freeze to death (like the horse from which the name arises). Cars do occasionally pass and I know that Phil can hitch a ride if need be. Hopefully Mark is halfway down by now to get the car?

The downhill section is even worse. I can't see due to the rain and spray and the fingers are so numb I can't apply the brakes. I somehow stop, open my panniers and grab something to wrap my hands in. 2 pairs of boxer shorts (clean, I think?) are at the top and I wrap my hands in them before setting off down the hill again. It is no good, I still can't squeeze the brakes hard enough to stop me from careering uncontrollably downhill.

But then I spot something in the distance... a small glimmer of hope in the survival stakes! It is a tourist information sign that appears to have a small roof-shelter sticking out a couple of feet (bit like a bus-stop). I muster up one last mesmeric squeeze of the hands to apply the brakes and pull-up alongside, dump the bike and jump underneath where there is fianlly some protection from the incessant downpour. I can't believe my luck. I would never have been able to make it down another 5kms. I strip off all my clothes and put on as many dry-ish clothes as I can from my panniers. I shiver and shake uncontrollably, the teeth chattering at 300 chatters/min. Around the shelter, the rain shows no sign of abating.

No sign of Phil... it is 20kms from where he started running. The map said 13kms! That would equate to a half marathon, at altitude, climbing 700-800m, on top of a 22km uphill ride before that! I am staring to fear the worst for him!

I get the stove out but the matches are damp and I can't get a spark, damn... I get the gloves out and it takes me 5 minutes to put them on, there is no feeling whatsoever in the fingers.

Suddenly, like an apparition in the mist, I make out the outline of Phil about 200m away and I scream at him - I have never been so delighted to see someone. He runs over and I expect him to have frostbite and be delirious... but guess what, he is 'fine'???? This guy is a freak! That said, he does accept when I offer him a couple of dry t-shirts and a towel.

Right, it's just Mark now. Having ridden about 1km downhill and severly struggled, I wonder how he has coped going back down to get the car. We wait for what seems an eternity. Phil now has his hands firmly wedged where the sun don't shine. Even his hands have gone numb! Eventually, a 4x4 Mitsubishi Pajero appears coming down the hill, we wave like Robinson Crusoe at a passing ship and Mark drives over and pulls up alongside - RELIEF - We are safe!

And then, as quickly as the storm had suddenly raged up and engulfed us, the rain ceased, the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine shone down on us... I felt the prescence of a warm emotional spiritual force wrap itself around me...

With the change in weather, I ease myself back on the bike and, with brakes on most of the way I freewheel the 5kms into Thredbo village where Mark and Phil have booked us into The Alpine Hotel.

I have never felt so good in all my life!

START:- Geehi campsite, 9.30am
FINISH:- Thredbo, 5.00pm
(trip computer stopped working due to rain, so some estimation)
DISTANCE:- 46.5 km
AVERAGE SPEED:- 9.3 km/h
MAXIMUM SPEED:- 66 km/h
TIME:- 5 hrs

OVERALL DISTANCE:- 678.0 km
OVERALL TIME:- 42hrs, 40mins, 51s

10 comments:

sally said...

HAPPY Birthday to you Happy Birthday to you Happy Birthday dear Daddy Happy Birthday to you

dear daddy happy birthday love from sally tom and lucy

Jo Johnston said...

Blimey Nick, I am exhausted just reading this!
And as for Charlie Boorman ... his stuff's just boring!

Dewsk said...

Happy Birthday fella!!!!(from Jen and I)
"Good to be alive?...like you're not in the box just yet...huh..??" Sounds like a great adventure on the mountain. The blog is awesome and has had us in fits, and feeling like we were there with you. Great wedding, amazing honeymoon, 1st day back at work - wish I was at Dead Horse Gap in the thunder storm! So good to hear your progress. Looking forward to catching up to hear the full story over a few mild ales in the Mill next year ;-). (am sure we'll here some of it from Mark in the meantime)
Have a rippa Birthday mate! Lots of Love Jen and Ad xxx
p.s I think it's time to role out E.S 2 this w/e.

Anonymous said...

Phew! Where you writing all this stuff room? Do the campsites have computer rooms?!
Think what Ray would've done in that situation...shelter/fire/food. You need to get one of those flint things he uses and do away with your matches. School boy survival techniques!!! Stay alive and have a good birthday cycle, mate. Rob

Cookie said...

Nick. You are an absolute legend.

I can't believe that I forgot I had a copy of The Worse-Case Scenario Survival Handbook. It would have helped you out on pretty much all of the things you referenced today with the exception of how to avoid boxing kangaroos!

Thursday night Mill stories will never be the same again.

Many Happy Returns too!

Anonymous said...

Nick
HAPPY BIRTHDAY bro
You are totally mad-cannot believe youre still alive-feel exhausted just reading your stuff!
Am trying to get hold of an editor to sort out some sort of Bill Bryson book thing!!
You are a complete legend!!
Love the kangaroo thing-although probably wasnt so lovely being there to see them having a massive scrap!
Have this image now of Dead Horse Gap being like something out of The Omen-hey maybe you should call your new book 'an english cyclist in Melbourne'-was trying to get the whole American werewolf in London feel but not feelin it are you!
Have a totally amazing Happy Birthday Nick-we miss you lots-just blown up a balloon for you-xxxxxxxx

Anonymous said...

Nick
You freak!!!!!!!!!
How many of us have been led to the edge by you!!!!!!!
Now you do it to two Ausssies - still couldn't happen to a nicer bunch!!!!
Your story reminds me of a wonderful trip to the caravan (hope the memories make you laff - who needs to go to the other side of the world)- it all began with that "fancy biking to Porthmadog" thing - my word Nick you do know how to do it properly!!!!
"Shall we go via Moel Fammau" -
Going downhill the other side of Moel Fammau - brakes didn't work then either;
Stopping cos I nearly died half way between Ruthin and Cerugydridion and being offered and TURNING DOWN that lift from the blond with the biggest bazookas in the BMW soft top (why did I do that just to go on with you);
the rain the sleet and the hail riding through Ysbyty Ifan;
and finally you stopping to be sick and me riding on only to be stopped by a car and some bird telling me I had to go back cos you had a flat and I had the only pump!!!!!!
and as for the presence of a warm emotional force wrapping itself around you I also remember getting to Blaenau Ffestiniog and for the first and only time I have ever been there THE SUN WAS SHINING - Nick you must be the special one (or maybe for those of us who have slept with you over the years it was just another melifluous odour only that Birtwistle chappie can produce)
Still the first pint in Y Llong is always worth the pain and agony of spending too many hours with you!
Can't wait to have a Reverend James break out the crib board and be utterly BORED by the story of the trip to Oz (in that time old Nick phrase only kidding).
Have a gr8 birthday - for a brother in law your not a bad sport - g'day - fair dinkum mate - see you soon cobba!
In case any one else wonders who this is cross refer to the Nick nearly killed me by skiing over a cliff edge statement(never felt his backside as rigid as that day) and I did tell him NOT to go that way - but still we all know Nick!!!!!!!!

Matt said...

Mate, this just isn't challenging enough. Bet you can't wheelie all the way to Sydney.
Matt
PS Happy Birthday!

Anonymous said...

We just rang the Alpine Hotel to wish you happy birthday - to find you weren't there!
Then realised you posted the blog days ago!
Doh!
Still we did show willing!
Have lol

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