Adventure Racing

G Day.

I've just noticed that this weblog (or "blog") hasn't been updated since June last year. That's a pretty poor performance and for this I apologise.

So, what's happened since then. Well I've been working away at APA Group, making sure my pipeline is still pumping ethane (it is) and that all other wrok related things are being looked after (they are). Enough about that though. Today I'm going to talk about maxAdventure racing.

Back in August my mate Dan from Manly (Manly Dan or Danly Man depending on your persuasion) suggested we do an adventure race out in the Hawkesbury. 15kms of trail running, 40km mountain biking and 10kms of kayaking. Sure, I said, no problem.

The "training regime" consisted of a few trips around Manly Dam (Manly Dan?) which is a 13km loop up near Manly on the North Shore of Sydney. It's a classic single track loop with some ridiculous drops, turns and outcrops that are just inviting you to share your head with the ground or a cheerful local tree trunk.

Having just purchased my mountain bike in Manly (red and black + shiny = fast) we headed up to the Dam track. I'd never done proper mountain biking before so each drop, turn, rut, and "baby's head" rock was greeted with the kind of fear you get once a year when you accidentaly step out on the road without looking resulting in a hair cut from a protruding bus mirror.

Most of the track is barely handlebar width with trees either side and rocks below. One mistake and you're guaranteed to hit either of the aforementioned hard things. My lack of medical insurance was playing on my mind.

Training session two was in my neck of the woods. A cycle to bondi via Watsons Bay, up and down hills with incredible views of the harbour and city. From Bondi we locked up the bikes and ran to Coogee and back on the cliff top track (standard tourist fare). After that it was off to Rose Bay for an hour of kayaking. Over a beer at the local RSL we decided we were ready for anything.

Our training regime didn't include a two hour 6am bus ride, 45 minutes of running up near vertical rockfaces or swimming fully clothed down fast flowing rivers. This was an elementary mistake on our parts.

The base for the weekend was Wiseman's Ferry. Like most places in Australia it's named after the aboriginal name, the (English) person who first settled there or an obvoius local geographical feature. In this case it was named after a chap called Wiseman who set up a ferry service (get it?). Poor Harald struggled to negociate the steep inclines down to the ferry crossing in the dark. It's wonderfully quaint waiting for the ferry, guided by two chain spans, to chug it's way over to collect you.

We made it to the campsite, set up our gear and sandwiches for the next day and headed to bed, gently serenaded to sleep by our neighbours love of late night techno music.



The race itself was an wonderful experience. We set off on a bus to the starting line with the intention of making our way back to the campsite within the requisite 12 hours. The first 3 hours of the race involved running down a single track trail to the river at the bottom of the valley. After a brief spell in the water itself trying to find the trail we started the long run to the top of the mountain.

There were at least five false summits on the way, each one as heartbreaking as the last. Our quads were destroyed by all the climbing and running whilst carrying full backpacks of water, supplies and a lifejacket. We made it out of the running section after 3 hours to the first major checkpoint where we collected our bikes and reattached our pedals. I should mention at this point that we had struggled to get the pedals off Danly Man's bike the previous night. Accordingly we had troubled getting the damn things back on. Get them on we did and we were on our way. Immediately after starting our biking my water bladder erupted, pouring my entire 2 ltr water supply down my back, through my shorts and on to the dusty ground. This was bad news. I had a safety 500ml bottle and that was it. Only 60kms to go.



As we were coming down the first major down hill on the bikes Dan's pedal came off. This was the beginning of the end of our intention of coming top half of the field. Cycling with one pedal is not a fun thing to do, it requires twisting your affected foot in a painful and repetative way. Not ideal for a man who recently had foot surgery.

Being in the middle of nowhere we had no choice but to continue on. The scenery was beatiful. We'd left behind the valley floor of the river and now were travelling through farmland with windmills, sheds and cows dotting the landscape. We quickly developed a routine whereby I'd hold out one hand and push Dan along for 15-20 seconds at a time before pulling back before the next push. This continued for about two hours. Push, rest, push, rest, walk up steep hill, freewheel down, push, rest.

The kayaks couldn't come quick enough. Two hours of kayaking through the hawkesbury river were sublime. The vista was just incredible. What made it all the better was the knowledge that absolutely nobody lived anywhere near there. It was just the two of us in the kayak, some water and the valley. Just beautiful.



After two hours of kayaking we were back on the bikes to finish the last two hours of the race. We made it in in just over 9 hours despite the lack of pedals and didn't even come last.

So what I'm trying to say is that if you ever get a chance to do an adventure race you should definitely do it. It was one of the best experiences I've had in Australia and cemented a friendship.



Sweet as. I'm off for a cycle cos it's hot as and I need some exercise.

Melbourne adventures

Landing in Avalon airport 50kms from civilisation on Friday night I began to wonder if this is what people had meant when they said that Melbourne’s “so European.” It was classic Ryanair style airport; one baggage claim, toilets contained in freezing portaloos, everything made of plywood and a long, expensive bus ride to the city. I didn’t mind though, I was happy out after my first flight in four months and a rather pleasant London Dry and Ton-Ton accompanied by my ever more exciting book.



The road to the city passes through typical industrial suburbia before passing over a magnificent bridge with views of the city including the famous “London Eye” only that it’s in Melbourne and doesn’t actually work. I met a bubbly cousin Fi for $8 litros and even better value banter in one of the “European” style bars. Legging it to miss our train, possibly due to the donut stop, we cut our losses and hopped in a taxi.



Bad cousins, bad bad cousins


Late night takeaways in Australia are often drive-thru only and for health and safety reasons will not serve customers on foot. This can and has been on less proud occasions an irritating issue. Luckily there is always a cab waiting in the car park willing to take you through the drive through for a fee which makes it an expensive Macca’s (but all the more satisfying).



Sadly, not for the last time in the weekend, we found ourselves in a cab slowly following the other numbskulls to cholesterol filled self destruction. Damn it was good!

Saturday morning was a slow starter but our determination to tackle the infamous “Edge” (not the guitarist from U2 as our ever useful and incredibly witty Lonely Planet pointed out). A few coffees later we found ourselves outside the Eureka Skydeck 88 entrance marvelling at the PR folks who’d encumbered the building with such a name. Mike, from my Frisbee team in London, joined us. Safety in numbers.



The Edge is one of the most ludicrous tourist attractions I’ve been to, it consists of paying your extra dollareedoos to stand in a 3x3m opaque glass box that gets nudged out of the building. With a moment of high drama the glass becomes clear and you can see the same view you saw a few minutes before from the skydeck but at a slightly different angle. Pretty scary stuff and with the high winds buffeting us we could well have just fallen off the side of the building. Luckily we survived (and have wristbands to prove it) and spent the rest of the weekend congratulating each other about surviving the Edge.


Meeting the cousins

Mihlbin

For the first time since I landed in 4 months ago I'm back at Sydney airport for O'TooleFest 09 pt2. It's going to be a weekend of cousintastic fun. But first, a few thoughts...

Seat 23C, jetstar flight 625. Oh crap, it's an airbus. Wings? check; pilot x2?check; new pitot tubes? absolutement; fire extinguisher on cockpit? Oh yieeah... I'm ready for this. Seatbelt on, seatback up and tray in stowed position. Time to go mr pilot, crank her up and let's get this bird in the air.

One thing niggles though, something wasn't quite right there. Wait a second, here we go, that was different, different to how things are done in yerp. For starters I didn't have to pay to print out my own boarding card. My bottle of water made it through security intact, my shoes remained on, I felt almost... human.

Curiously they don't ask to see your boarding pass to get past security. Stranger still I wasn't asked for a single bit of ID to get on the plane. Next time there's a sale I'm gonna buy a ticket in the name of osama mcterrorist to see if they treat me any differently.

I did laugh at travellers inability to do nothing. Everyone was watching tv, ordering food, reading and in one wonderful example of the world gone stark bonkers crazy there was a young chap, maybe 18, sitting on the ground, legs askew with laptop precariously balanced on his gangly knees as he desperately tried to keep the power flowing in order to watch tv. Mad I tell u.

Me? Oh I was facing the tv, music in my ears, coffee by my side, writing this entry on my apple individuality device.

Good day sir.

Plan B

An extract from an email home:

Soooo, it's been 41 days since I landed in Sydney. Allowing for the "settling in" weekend that means I've been job hunting for 37 days. As I've said in previous emails that involves 5 days a week of calling recruiters, meeting recruiters, applying for jobs through online listing websites, contacting people I know in Sydney for potential leads and on one occasion actually going in for an interview.

In the last few weeks I've upped my recruiters again taking on Marcus, Jonathan, Lisa and Daniel to add to Ian, Sophie, Will, Bruce, Martin, Cliff, Darragh, Pater, Willem, Tasha, Deanna, Mark, Petina and Sean. This pretty much covers all the financial recruiters in Sydney so I have my bases covered. Out of those I have the guys that I know are "on my side" who I call every day. The others get a call once a week and an email too for good measure just to remind them how great I am.

Today has been a decent day as I have a phone interview at 4pm with Canon for an 8 week contract role doing reconciliations and also have scored an interview for a permanent position at a pipelines company on Friday at 4pm.

Looking for a job is a full time job so I haven't been able to get any other work as of yet such as data entry, bar work etc though I have started to look into it. I know that if worst comes to worst then Fi O'Toole's mate in Melbourne definately has bar work available! That said I'm holding out for a "proper" job.

It's a lot of work so far and sure it's gotten me down a bit now and again but it's all part of the rich experience of life. In the time here I've managed to go to three frisbee tournaments, see a few museums, go to Manly, do some clifftop walks, hit the beach frequently and do various nice things like that. I've cut out all entertainment that costs money such as going out at night as things are a little tight. Good to live like that now and again to get a grip on reality.

Occasionally one does let oneself go though and this happened two weekends ago when I was talking to someone on the beach in Terrigal between games. She had just completed a trip around Australia in her van and was looking to sell. She wanted €2000, I offered €1000 and she accepted. The best bit is that I don't have to pay until I can afford it :) So now I have a Plan B which is sitting outside the house. His name is Harald and he's a 1988 Hiace with 400,000kms on him. He's got a double bed in the back, three seats up front, 4 gears, a full kitchen and lots of other stuff I've yet to find. A pretty good Plan B if you ask me. You can check him out here: http://tinyurl.com/ctvs8e



You see I've given my months notice on the house I'm in as I can't afford the rent which means I have exactly one month to find a paying job to live a normal life. If that doesn't happen I'll hop into Harald, find some mates to share fuel and head off north to sunnier climes working on farms / finance / admin / whatever jobs to pay my way. It sure beats sitting around waiting for non existant jobs to turn up! This is very much a Plan B at this stage though it is kinda exciting knowing that it's an option.

In the current economic climate...

A month of job hunting, five hours a day online, at least ten
recruiters working for me and countless CV revisions has pulled up one
interview so far. I'm doing everything I can, using all my contacts,
calling all my recruiters, responding to all the ads but not much is
happening. I'm taking time to reflect on what the "current economic
climate" actually means. It means I have the opportunity to really get
to know myself through building the CV, talking to recruiters
answering questions that we should really be asking ourselves regularly:

What motivates you?
What are your strengths and weaknesses? (clichéd? yes, but have you
actually thought about yours?)
How would your friends describe you?
Describe your ideal job.
What are your goals in life?

These are tough questions that can really put things into perspective.
Think about them and all of a sudden the change of circumstances, the
reduction of pay doesn't seem to be the end of the world. I'm loving
the challenge of finding a job that I might actually enjoy. I'm loving
the challenge of feeding and transporting myself for €10 a day.

Admittedly Sydney isn't a bad place to be unemployed. After I put in
my hours searching for jobs and contacting my recruiters I either go
for a long run along the beachside clifftop between bondi and coogee
beaches or head to the beach for a few hours if reading, swimming,
thinking, appreciating and usually hanging out with mates.

Now if all this sounds a bit like a hippy has taken over sensibAL you
may be a little right. While I don't do drugs ("dope is for dopes",
right?!) and barely drink (it's expensive and I'm enjoying that smart
feeling that comes when you don't have a hangover) I have taken the
precaution of buying a campervan.

By campervan I mean of course a 1988 white Hiace van with bed in the
back. He's got two personalities, Harald and Casper II. I've yet to
pick him up but I'm sure we'll get on just fine. I said that I've taken the
precaution of buying him as if the job situation doesn't pick up I can
just find some willing travellers and take off up the coast to sunnier
climes, working in random jobs as I go.

So that's the backup plan. I feel an oxymoronical sense of calm and
adventure when I think of it. What better way to spend a year when
there simply aren't enough "proper" jobs to go around.

So don't be alarmed, I'm the same person, just a happier more content
one who's loving being challenged to make the most of life.

Hippy out,

al

Settling into Sydney

I've been here just over two weeks now and have taken to the place like a UCD team to a train vestibule. Actually the house I'm living in is quite like a vestibule as there are constantly random people coming in and out although it is a little bigger. I'm staying in Bondi Junction, also known as County Bondi due to the large number of GAA shirts being sported by those of the fairer complexion as they hit the happening night spots. Sadly I forgot my favourite Dublin jersey (supported them for years y'know) and my WCBU Ireland shirt has been confined to indoor use only.

For the first week I was staying with Troy from Fire of London who's here with de Google on a permanent transfer. Luckily he had a spare room so I was able to sleep off the horrific jet lag without having hundreds of backpackers milling around.

After a week I moved to the big house near Bondi Junction and about a 15 minute walk to Bondi Beach. The house is a huge 4 living room, 5 bedroom yoke with 5 of us paying rent and a travelling contingent of at least five randomers staying every night. I have my own room with a bit of privacy so it's all good. It does lead to an awful lot of red wine though as there's always a few people having a sip and who am I to refuse?

The job situation here is much like Ireland with very little going on. I've spent the last week contacting recruiters daily, scouring the interweb for potential positions but there's very little out there. The standard line from the recruiters is that if I'd turned up last year I'd have a job within a day. Now who would want that with the beach only a 15 minute walk away!! So it's a little tougher than expected but I'm still hopeful that with year ends coming up there may be some work on the audit side of things. Otherwise it may be al the waiter or floor cleaner for a year which would be a nice little grounding. Needless to say my mum isn't too pleased that I gave up a good job in London but I'm confident what I've experienced in the last 8 months is worth a bit of job pain and sure, the recession can't last forever, right??

Socially I've landed on my feet. I stayed with Troy from Fire for a week when I got here and now I've moved into the aforementioned house with Grace "the face" from Cark, Quentin and Sinead from Waterford, Colette from Sydney and Lopez the afro'd party planner from Paris. Added to that we have Ziggy from London who used to live here staying on the sofa, Damien and Regina on the fold out couch, Caroline and Hayley who are staying with Grace, David who's also staying with Grace and Lisa the Swedish model slash waitress who's staying with Lopez. !

Added to that I've been shown around by Elayna "Phelpsy" from the Green Tortoise bus in America quite a bit. It's been great to have familiar faces to hang out with.


I'm playing frisbee with Manly twice a week which is sweet. I have a few tournaments lined up with them over the next few months as well as summer / autumn / winter league.

So that's the Sydney Story for now. I'm down in my room, about to look for more jobs before heading out to Tropfest, a large outdoor film festival. Heavy hardcore trance is pumping down from the living room upstairs as Lopez and his mate come down from a big night out. Good times really, good time :)

Australia

After a great month in Dublin it's time to move on again. The need for some sun and employment is dragging me kicking and screaming to Sydney. It'll be a great year or two away to experience a "different culture" and learn a new language ("oh yiiaahh?", "g'daiy" etc).