Day 2: Ararat to Hamilton

Maximum temperature 33C We dined at the Ararat RSL on Saturday night and did some more carbo loading for those who felt the need, while others enjoyed roast lamb, beef pie etc. We aimed to rise early to beat the heat, but the boys in their room made the mistake of not checking the clock radio setting and were awoken at 5.15am instead of the planned 6.30am! After breakfast in the conference room, we left the Ararat Colonial Lodge at 8am and headed through the deserted town (Sunday morning), to the outskirts where Graham was informed by a local that we were on the wrong road and heading for Hall’s Gap instead of Hamilton! Not long after leaving Ararat, Graham had the first puncture of the ride. Peter was later heard to ask, were they puncture-proof tyres? It was a beautiful cool clear morning and we made good progress with spectacular views of the Grampians on our right. Our morning tea stop was at a once thriving wheat town and rail centre, Willaura, now a virtual ghost town. Margaret and Sandra had as usual made sure that we were suitably nourished with the usual treats of fruit drinks, coffee, fruit, biscuits, jelly beans, Milo bars etc. Even more spectacular views of the Grampians were to be seen as we cycled on to our lunch stop at Glenthompson. It was now quite hot (understatement) when we set off for Dunkeld with Michael and Rosemary leading the way. After a 20km ride we were rewarded at Dunkeld with icy poles, which were refreshing to say the least! The final leg into Hamilton was a hard slog of 32km with, for the most part, a boring featureless landscape. Graham and Dave cooled off in the pool but didn't stay long. Bruce and Peter (joint effort) Day 1 Saturday 9th March – Ballarat to Ararat Maximum Temperature 33C Carbo loading rather than comfort food was all the go at the Mid City Motel dining room the night before the ride. Gnocci, spaghettoni puttanesca were the most popular. Free sweets were on offer such as brandy snaps served with fresh fruit. The party was in full swing outside room 3. The ladies invited Bruce and Peter to join them, but instead, they switched rooms as they preferred a good nights sleep. Peter the next morning was overheard saying that they were like an elderly married couple already. Then, following photos, cyclists Bruce, Peter, Graham and David followed Margaret in her van and Sandra in her car to the Performing Arts Centre. D G John Gatt and Eileen passed us in Howitt Street with a resounding blast of their horn. Turning into School Lane, we met Rosemary and Michael. Before farewelling us outside his Conference Centre ,current King of the Mountain, DG John was overheard commenting to Margaret about a possible French Connection after Lisbo.,It turned out to be a barge trip in Burgundy! Was Eileen planning to swim and John planning to cycle? On our way out of town, we avoided traffic building up for Ballarat’s Begonia Festival. A siege was in progress somewhere, but we managed to avoid it. We passed the Last Straw hay supplier and a boat for sale called Hard Yakka and we were on our way towards Snake Valley and Carngham. We paused at Cemetery Hill amongst the pines to catch our breath. Graham thought he heard the melodious call of a Rufous Whistler. Guttered Victorian homesteads and gatehouses were a sobering reminder of January’s fires. At the morning tea stop, there was conjecture of the name of a distant hill. Sandra, who had had a hard mornings shopping thought the hill might be called Sleeping Lady, but Margaret looked up Vic Roads and found it was called Emu Hill. David and Graham were eclipsed by a gigantic wedge tailed eagle which glided between them on route to its lair. The lunch stop at Beaufort was welcome. The riders had had a change in wind direction and it was getting warmer,so the average was down from 26.5 to 23.5! A lady from Toorak spied us and without asking us for our story guessed what we were about and entertained us with her exploits of being an expensive Rotarian at Toorak. The band rotunda in the park was locked and inaccessible, but the yellow building across the road was thankfully open and a great relief for us all. Being on the Great Western Highway, Beaufort is often a staging place for cyclists passing through. We heard of a mono cyclist passing through, who stripped to his waist in the park and lathered himself with Vegemite and was duly hosed off by the local firies – all for a good cause. The heat set in that afternoon as we cycled the remaining 40 kms to Ararat. We were reminded of our cause – Polio Plus and the reason why we are suffering the heat and the hot water from our drinking bottles! A car full of yahoos let out that morning from the city let us have it verbally as they passed by. While some of us were contemplating the poetry of the Wind Farm at Buangor, our arvo tea stop, Michael headed off for some serious wine viewing. The place was air conditioned. Bitumen bubbles popped under our high pressure tyres as we approached Ararat. What a relief to finally get into Ararat as we settled into the Ararat Colonial Lodge. Beer, a swimming pool, and the prospect of more gnocci (even some nookie) and a good nights sleep were tantalisingly appealing. Journo Graham and Editor David