Fear aside and glory won: Novice women conquer Stromlo

All Photos by Jeremy Stevens www.instagram.com/jeevens

By Hannah Quill and Patrick Will

“Is that blood on your bike?!”

“Yeah it is! But I only stacked three times!”

Covered in sweat and dirt, with blood smeared across her scratched arms and legs, and a huge grin across her face, Leslie stands triumphant after conquering Mount Stromlo in her first lap of the Scott 24-hour.

CORC’s (Canberra Off-Road Cyclists) Scott Australian 24-Hour Mountain Bike Championships are not for the faint minded, and certainly not for those who give up easily.

Commonly referred to, perhaps as a way of disarming it, as a ‘24’, the race format is considered the absolute pinnacle of mountain biking. To complete one, you must be at the peak of athletic ability and possess incredible willpower. Solo riders and teams who win these races dedicate their entire lives to training and preparing to ride a 24.

Enter the CORC Liv Giant Women’s Development Team: a novice group of ten women, all at different physical ability, age and experience levels in mountain biking – and not one has ridden a 24-hour race. Six of the girls are riding the full 24 hours and the other four are competing in the 6+6 category, in which they will be riding 12 hours in total.

Coached by former Australian downhill champion and Liv Giant ambassador Claire Whiteman, the women have a strong female figure supporting their riding. Motivated and personable, she just enjoys watching others succeed.

“I’d love to see them go for the full 24 hours … and I’m looking forward to sitting back and watching the teamwork, and helping, really encouraging each other through those hard times.”

The women make up ten of the 73 ladies registered for the Scott 24-hour – only 17% of all riders participating.

At 10.30AM on Saturday morning, the women’s campsite is emanating calmness and an infectious happiness. Children are running between the bikes on the lush grass. Cyclists are warming up their legs on the nearby path. The constant ticking of bike wheels provides a soothing backdrop, and the ladies’ team mascot, Flynn, a Labrador/Border Collie cross, sits by the tent waiting for a pat – his fur gleaming in the sunlight.

The teams remain calm and composed after their pep talk from three-times World 24 Hour Solo Champion and Liv Giant ambassador Jessica Douglas. Some sit under the marquee, nibbling at snacks on the table while others chatter, finding comfort in company. They’re barely exhibiting the nervousness that’s boiling inside.

24-hour rider Sybil Wishart’s battered sky blue Kombi sits beside the camp; a stark contrast to the mass of khaki tents. She bought it seven years ago, and plans on sleeping in it during the race.

For a group of women that barely know each other, their support and camaraderie is potent, they laugh and converse as we walk to the criterium for the pre-race briefing, buzzing off of each other’s excitement.

12PM to 6PM: ready and raring

454 riders and the few hundred supporters gather on the concrete section between the two campsites. This is where the race begins – directly in front of the administration block that’s right next to the transition lane.

The crowd of riders and spectators make up the promenade, which works to tunnel the riders through before they stampede onto the fire tracks and up into the first section, Cockatoo Switchback.

It’s go time.

The solos are the first to start, dead on 12PM. Starting on their bikes and without flaw, they shoot the road with their tires once the signal is given, leaving the bitumen far behind as they unleash a dust cloud in their wake.

The 24-hour teams and 6+6ers line up next. The promenade of spectators step back and hold the rider’s bikes in front so they can be nabbed in a Le Mans-style start.

The crowd begins whooping and cheering, intensely excited for the show.

Alex Orme is first up for the 24-hour team, and Andrea Coleman leads the 6+6 girls. This point is crucial in securing a place in the front and escaping congestion on the track. The riders sprint forward in search for their bikes, but in the chaos and confusion, several miss their mark, including the lead rider of one of the ADFA teams. He runs straight past his bike, having to scramble back through the mass of bodies, straining to hear the voices of his support crew.

Coleman was the first of the CORC Liv girls to return back, posting a time of 46 minutes and 16 seconds. She eases into the transition lane and tags Leslie Roberts into the race. About a minute later, Orme comes into transition and sends Amie Whiteman into the race. Unfortunately, she’s a little pinker than when she had left. “I forgot to put sunscreen on!” she cried, chest heaving, trying to catch her breath, while she slathers her upper body in cream.

She had no regrets on her first lap though. She took advantage of the fire roads, and overtook as many slow people as she could. “I was trying not to burn out in the first fire trail because I usually go too hard.” The congestion of the switchbacks allowed some recuperation, before making up time powering through the downhill sections.

The course, while challenging for all riders, is undeniably picturesque, with wild flowers growing along the track, sweeping views back towards Canberra and kangaroos lazily eyeing the riders as they pass. The weather is near perfect, with only a few wispy clouds in the otherwise blue sky.

The course is a combination of tough climbs, technical switchbacks and fast flowing, exciting descents. 3.2 kilometres into their lap, Bobby Pin Climb is the first taste of a hill. ABC Switchbacks and the long climb up past the old observatory prove the most challenging sections of the course, and even Jessica Douglas was surprised at the sudden climb halfway down Skyline. But once riders had cleared those obstacles, it’s down through the excitement of Luge, past the booming music set-up at Wombat Junction, and a relatively easy ride back down to the buzz of the criterium.

Back at camp, 6+6 rider Reanna Browne has a well-deserved rest after her first lap, posting a time of 0:42:16. After moving to Canberra a year ago, Browne found support in Coach Claire Whiteman’s Sunday group rides.

“It provides a safe space to start, and from there you build confidence. The hard thing is coming off your own back and jumping onto a formal race like this. So, the Liv weekly riding group is a brilliant mechanism in getting all types of riders riding.”

Coach Whiteman is responsible for managing and organising the CORC Liv teams – including their jerseys, the six quality bikes they received from Liv Giant, and the educational sessions on recovery, stretching and basic riding mechanics.

“It’s been a bit of work … but it’s more than worth it, just to see their excitement, and some of them have gone faster than I thought.”

Not accustomed to the technical terrain or the congestion of Stromlo, Leslie Roberts waits nervously in transition for Browne to return from her second lap.

“I’m a rock magnet … and I’ve had some amazing stacks in my first two years. These are new teeth,” she says, flashing the team’s trademark ear-to-ear smile.

Over the concern of her own body, Roberts is actually more worried about being in someone’s way, “I’ve done a lot training on my own so that’s why I’m not used to riding with a lot of people. I get quite anxious, like I’m holding people up.”

Browne comes into transition just before 5PM, and Roberts shoots up the track. Browne escaped a tumble in her first lap, but wasn’t so lucky in her second, as a rock threw her over the handlebars, creating her first “Stromlo scar”.

“It’s a blood sacrifice to the Stromlo gods,” Croaker quips as Browne cleans up.

6PM to 12AM: head lights on

Getting in two laps each, the 6+6 team of four find the ride exhausting, sneaking home for some well-deserved sleep while the 24-hour solos and teams trudge on in the newly darkened landscape.

It’s eerily quiet at camp, and the temperature is quickly descending to single figures. Coach Whiteman erects the tarp around the marquee as Christmas lights illuminate the shelter. The 24-hour girls sit inside discussing what their tastebuds are craving. Someone suggests homemade blueberry muffins, someone else, chocolate and red wine.

Croaker is up next, and is concerned about her first lap in the darkness. Her inexperience in night riding is shaking her confidence, as is the case for most of the girls, who have never ridden competitively in the dark before.

“I seem to hit every single rock in Stromlo at night, and I’m worried that I’m going to be so slow and pathetic.”

24-hour rider Amie Whiteman – Coach Whiteman’s sister – reassures Croaker, and tells her not to worry about taking it slowly if she needs to.

The camaraderie in the team is powerful – especially considering that most of them know each other only from a handful of weekly rides.

CORC’s support for the team is also ever present. President Kris Nicholls (“Kris, as in a woman” as Whiteman eloquently says) is a big supporter of the girls.

Nicholls believes that the support for teams like the CORC Liv Giant development groups are vital when it comes to encouraging female participation in the sport.

“Women often feel intimidated riding in large events, believing that they are slower, less technical, or less capable in some way.”

The money raised from registrations goes straight back into teams like this – funding women’s, men’s and kids development camps, and supporting CORC riders who compete overseas.

“By bringing the women together, they’re able to develop skills and confidence to participate,” Nicholls says as we drive to Wombat Junction – the second last climb before the final descent into transition.

We trek from the fire road into the bush, crunching leaves, twigs and stumbling over rocks as the lights of the riders blaze like torches in the night. The flashing colours draw us to where Nicholls has set up a stereo system and Christmas lights.The visuals and sounds are astonishing.

Back at the Stromlo base, a rider is left stranded with a broken chain. Luckily, CORC Vice President of Advocacy, Brendon Mulloy gives the man a replacement chain, and sends him down to one of the many bike repairers.

The Scott radio hosts start taking requests, boasting a 20,000-strong iTunes library. Someone with a sense of humour requests “Bicycle Race” by Queen.

Mulloy says that the adrenaline wears off at around 10PM. The riders’ legs start to hurt, and fatigue sets in. Some riders are thankful for their next transition and perhaps a sleep in their tent. But depending on their race schedule, they could be awoken in the middle of the night to ride another lap, after relatively no recovery.

12AM to 6AM: the hardest slog

The darkest hours were descending. The air at transition froze our breath. If not for the DJs pumping through the ABBA ‘Best Of’ collection, the space would be as silent as it was deserted.

Croaker races into the transition lane, grinning from ear to ear after completing her second night lap. She’s positively buzzing.

“It was fantastic. The first lap, I didn’t have a very good ride, it was intense and stressful, but this was awesome. I’m not as nervous because I figured I didn’t want to hurt myself, so I was going to take it easy and not stress, and I did a faster lap when I relaxed”.

3AM to 6AM is notoriously the worst time out on the track. Every fibre in the rider’s body is telling them to stop; they have to physically convince themselves that the track is a lot better option than that nice patch of green. Hallucinations are common, as is coming across riders lying on the sides of the track having a rest.

Val Chan is convinced she was taking micro sleeps on her bike. That is, until a “little punk tried to overtake me on Luge, he was right on top of me. He wanted to overtake me, he never said anything, so I saw these lights come out of nowhere – it’s dangerous at 2am in the morning.”

It’s not just the riders who rethink their life decisions at this time. The Scott requires a large army of volunteers in order to run smoothly, and looking around the darkness of the camp in the early hours of the morning, it is clear that these hard workers, in their striking red shirts, are also suffering. Many try and catch a few fleeting minutes sleep wherever they can – in sleeping bags on the floor, on chairs, or under a desk wrapped in bubble wrap. Those who cannot embrace sleep sit around telling stories of past experiences on the bike, reliving their glory days.

The Skaterminator, a delightfully strange figure dressed in fluoro work gear and LED lights, roller-skates into the transition area at about 3AM. He performs tricks around the criterium and amuses the small and weary crowd before promptly disappearing again. Strange things happen in the wee hours of the morning.

6AM to 12PM: impending relief

Early hours of light slowly warm Stromlo as the sun lifts above the city horizon. Five hot air balloons float across the city, seemingly suspended.

The dawn lap is an intensely invigorating experience. Amie Whiteman is the lucky rider for the CORC Liv team. As she rides into Wombat Junction, the sun’s rays bathe her in light. Her crash just before sunrise was soon forgotten as the birds began singing – “it was like a cheering squad”.

Falling to the youngest member of the team to rise with the sun, 15-year-old Madeleine Carden sets off just before 6AM. Tired, pained, and yearning for bed, she treks on nonetheless. Riding for over ten years makes her one of the most experienced riders on the team – even if a significant portion of that time was as a small child.

Back at camp, the contrast between pre- and post-sunrise is striking. People seem to appear from everywhere once the sunlight hits the track. The iconic riff of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” blares out at 6:20AM, abruptly waking those who haven’t yet stirred. It’s a fitting song, given the beating the track handed to many riders through the night. Dallas, the Dutch pancake man and a nine-year veteran of the Scott, sings along as he serves his fare to the hordes of hungry riders, eager for a feed before getting back out on the track.

After a relaxing eight-hour sleep in her bed, Browne is revitalised for her morning lap. Her body is the least stiff out of all the girls, as “coincidentally” a masseuse friend was visiting her house last night. Relieving sore muscles in her back; the tenderness is a result of holding on, white knuckled, to the handlebars as she hurtled downhill.

Breaking her strict diet with some deliciously cold chips and gravy, Coleman talks about her transformation into women’s cycling. “When I started there was no such thing as a women-specific bike. Even getting clothing, I’d always wear a men’s small. When I was road riding in Perth, you’d hardly see a woman rider. But there’s been a shift. I think it’s growing, and the younger generation are being more influenced.”

As we sit around waiting for the final riders to complete their laps, the discussion turns to post-race, and what people are looking forward to. Amie Whiteman is keen to get a little bit of sleep, “if I can.” She then goes on to reveal, yet again with a beaming smile on her face, that she has a five-hour shift at work that afternoon.

By the end of the race, some of the professional riders have travelled distances equivalent to riding from Canberra to the coast, and yet, if they are tired, they don’t show it. Upon receiving first place in the solo women’s category, Jessica Douglas blows the crowd a kiss and almost skips back to her tent.

The traditional mark of success at a sporting event is a medal, or a top time. However, at a 24, Baker says that most people come away winners, because “everyone is coming in to achieve some sort of personal goal. So if you do that you go home having won.”

And this is certainly the case with the CORC Liv Giant Women’s Development Team. Whether it was beating a lap time, going the farthest distance, or simply riding a lap without falling off their bike, they all achieved something over the weekend. As the team packed up their tents and made for home, they knew that they were walking away from the Scott having grown significantly as people. Their achievements won, their rest is absolutely well deserved.