Linda who had been awake only moments before looked across at me and gasped. I stared at her too.

“Winda, you’re wips are aww swowwen!”

“What the – ?”

Yes, Linda’s lips were swollen… and so was my whole face. But where Linda had the sexy botox thing happening, I looked like a pale watermelon withlegs!

Times like these the mind does a quick panicked once over of every possible scenario…

Dehydration? Wind burn? Bee sting? Wasp bite? Spider bite?(yikes!) Allergy to the camping pillows? An allergy to my sister-in-law that has remained dormant for the past 20 years??? Some unidentified, highly contagious, tropical disease that we were about to die from?

Fortunately we’d bought a 4L bottle of water the afternoon before and we were able to wet our camping bathtowels and lay the coolness on our faces. The swelling began to subside… much to my relief!

We got dressed for the day – on the ride you don’t have access to the showers in the mornings (blearh!). We both cursed the fact and hoped we wouldn’t B.O. (body odour) anyone to death during the day.

We filled our water bottles and got our gear together for the ride. Then as I struggled to get my contact lenses in (the skin around my eyes was still swollen) Linda raced off to the breakfast tent with instructions to bring me back some fruit.

She came back about 20 mins later laden with food and a huge grin…

“You’re sure you only want some fruit?” She waved her chocolate muffin in front of me, the plate of bread with butter and strawberry jam sachets, a banana, apple, tub of yoghurt and bowl of cereal precariously held in the other hand. I took the apple and packed the banana in my backpack.

After Linda finally got through her meal (I should mention that she’s as skinny as a rake handle!) we packed our bags. As we only had 66km today we weren’t worried about leaving a little later.

We dismantled our tent, packed it and loaded our bags on the luggage truck – a BIG thank you to the guys on Luggage Truck 2 for helping us get our bags on top of the huge pile in the truck!

And we were off. Today’s ride was from Portland to Macarthur – 66kms.

The course proved to be fast and mostly flat. There were a few nice steep climbs close to Mt Eccles which I thoroughly enjoyed (did I mention that I love the hills?). I’m ashamed to admit it, but I experience this peverse pleasure when passing cyclists on the uphills… especially when most of them could easily pass me on the flat. The only challenge I had today with the wet roads was losing traction as I kicked up the hills, but as we had started later we were amongst slower riders who were also having challenges with the hills.

On going up one hill I passed a young couple struggling on their bicycles and as I passed I heard the man say to the woman, “See, Monica! And yesterday you were mocking the scooter!”

I thought, ‘Yeah! No one mocks this scooter, babe!’  And pumped my legs faster leaving the mockers behind for dead.

When we turned right onto the Princess Highway there were three Police Officers slowing traffic to keep it safe for the riders. My ‘up and down’ motion caught their eye and one of the Police Officers yelled out, “What happened to your pedals?!”

I said, “Someone nicked them!”

He replied, “Maybe you should call the Police!”

A group of us laughed as we turned onto the busy road.

On the Princess Highway we were directed to travel in a single file and stay as far to the left as possible…

Unfortunately, not everyone adhered to that information!

I got stuck behind two rather large cyclists who sat two abreast, chatting away, oblivious to the world around them. The cyclist on the right (closest to the traffic) kept drifting out into the traffic lane – sometimes half way in the lane! I thought it was only time before a semi collected him. As they were only sitting on about 18 to 19km per hour other cyclists had to overtake. The overtaking cyclists were screaming out ‘passing!’, ‘passing on your right!’ and ‘stick to the left!’ and one party did yell ‘oh! get over for (expletive) sake!’ but this only had a momentary impact on the pair. I looked for an opportunity to pass as well, but with traffic roaring alongside us I decided it wasn’t worth the effort or danger, so I tucked in behind the larger of the two (fortunately the one on the left) and drafted for a while. It turned out to be a good thing as a headwind had picked up.

Eventually we turned off onto some nice little back roads with no traffic and I was able to get around the pair.

Linda and I were then able to ride side by side for a while and chat.

A cyclist pulled up beside me to have a chat as well. Apparently I was getting a reputation and had earned the title ‘Scooter Girl’. The man turned out to be Ian Trevaskis, the author who does a bit of freelance journalism on the side. We spoke for a while and he asked if he could do a piece on the kickbike for the cyclist magazine, Australian Cyclist. I readily agreed. He was fascinated with the kickbike, and being a keen cross country skiier, could see similarities in the movement.

Eventually we parted ways and came into the lunch spot.

Lunch was delicious – cheese, tomato and basil on thick bread – yummmmmmmm! It was so big I could only eat half of it, so I stored the other half in my Reservoir Dog (backpack), donated the choc-chip cookie, cheese block and crackers to Linda which she stored with some more fruit (more Chipmunk behaviour) in her tool bag.

Back on the kickbike and only 16km out a group of ‘real ones’ passed me. ‘Real ones’ are what I call the male ‘elite cyclists’… you know the ones: they wear team colours, have shaved legs, are tanned from their long rides, have diamond calves, ride bikes worth more than my car and basically look super hot in their lycra! This group congratulated me, one honked his horn, and another said, “I’m going to marry someone like her.”

I thought ‘See what a kickbike can do for you! It not only carries you 550km around the south coast of Victoria, it can also get you hitched to a lycra-clad hottie!’ So sweet!

When we arrived at the Macarther campsite, Linda and I found an area for our tent. I sat down in our spot with the bikes to eat the rest of my lunch while Linda had the near-impossible task of finding our bags amongst the other 500 pieces of luggage dumped on the ground.

A cyclist came over and said ‘hi’, squatted down beside me, checked out the kickbike and raised his arms in a gesture of amazement.

“How – ?”

I smiled, “It’s like riding a bike – at first it’s a challenge but when you get the fundamentals and put the mileage in, it’s not as hard as it looks.”

“You’re amazing. And you’re doing the whole ride on it?”

“Yep”

“Wow!”

“Thank you” I laughed.

“Good luck” he said and with a wave, left.

Linda staggered back, hefting two of our bags, which we dumped beside our bikes. Then we both went back to find the ‘big’ bag and carried it between us back to our spot.

We laid our tent out and thus began the laughing and chatting associated with two totally inadequate tent-erecting individuals.Obviously our lack of expertise showed as we received several offers of help, including the man I had chatted with a short time ago. We declined each offer – afterall isn’t putting up the tent half the fun of camping!

After our tent was up we attempted to call our husbands with updates but mobile phone coverage was shocking in the area, so we decided to walk into town, try for better coverage and get some water for tomorrow. Fortunately, our sandshoes were dry – so no more thong torture… my dead blister twinged with relief! In town we found a sausage sizzle, so I had two sizzles without the sausages… basically two pieces of bread with a bit of tomato sauce.  Linda, wisely decided to wait till dinner time.

Finally we got through on our phones and chatted with hubbies – then my phone beeped with a low battery.

“Don’t worry – there was a sign back at camp for mobile phone charging and they’re open till 7pm.” Linda assured me.

So we headed back to camp to find that someone had crossed out the 7pm on the sign and changed it to 5.30pm. I looked at my watch: 5.40pm… bummer! I would have to wait until the service was offered again at a future campsite, keep my phone switched off and only use it in an emergency.

We lined up for dinner behind some 500 other people – which sounds like a drag, but the line moved very quickly. There was an abundance of volunteers serving up the meals, all very efficient at piling your plate full. The meal again was delicious – chickpea curry, rice, thai salad, and pita bread. Linda scored a Mango dessert and gobbled it down in two seconds flat. It’s funny, I’d read on a forum before the ride that the meals would be pretty ordinary and this particular person had recommended eating non camp food. By now you’ve probably guessed I love my food – indeed any event is highlighted in my memory in regards to the food served - and I can honestly say I was enjoying the meals so far! The food was hot, tasty and there was plenty of it.

As the weather turned colder we headed over to the shower trucks hoping there was no line up. How lucky were we! We only waited a few minutes before we got to the head of the line. Yikes! I stared with horror at the flimsy shower curtains on the front of each cubicle that flapped open and closed with the wind that whipped through the open door of the truck. Linda couldn’t disguise her groan as she saw the same thing.

But I must admit it was gorgeous under the warm stream of water and the sudden flashes of bare skin fell away to oblivion. It was also clean in my cubicle and as I was wearing thongs my tinea-phobia was held at bay.

There had been a note in our camping guide as to the shower routine. We were to: turn the water on to briefly wet ourselves, turn the water off, lather up, turn the water back on to quickly rinse, then turn the water back off again. In the warmth of the shower I had one clear thought: screw the shower routine! I certainly didn’t hear any showers being turned off and on around me, and I most certainly didn’t follow the routine either!

It wasn’t until I was towelling off that I discovered that the backs of my legs were sun-burned. Then when I got dressed and finally got to see myself in a mirror… OMG! Rudolph the Red nose Reindeer had nothing on me. My nose was glowing, as were my cheeks and chin. Fortunately, I had worn a Ground Effect Cycle Shirt which has a fairly high collar so the back of my neck had been protected. (Thank you G.E. – your design wizards are my heroes!)

Linda fortunately had avoided the sunburn as her makeup has sun protection, and she wore leggings. I made a mental note to put suncream on tomorrow.

Back in our tents we settled down to sleep, and that’s when we heard the noise. The tent directly behind us was obviously a love nest… and the female party, a ‘moaner’. So Linda and I spent the next half hour (very impressive) stifling giggles like a pair of teenagers…

Gee, we really do need to get out more!

Arrived in Melbourne last night, Kickbike safely by my side with plans to complete the Great Victorian Bike Ride with my sister-in-law, Linda, who is riding a standard hybrid bicycle.

The ride is an annual event covering varying terrain throughout Victoria, Australia, and this year’s ride covers 550km in 8 days of riding from Portland to Geelong – part of that being the Great Ocean Road. Since it’s beginning in 1984 there have been riders on standard road bikes, mountain bikes, fixed wheel bikes, tandems, recumbents, tandem recumbents and a few brave unicyclists! But no one has taken part on a scooter… yet!

Coming from Brisbane’s typically predictable humid, hot summer I was hit with Melbourne’s typically unpredictable not-summer weather! It’s cold with pouring rain and an expected hail storm. Hail! Great! Just what we need on a bike ride! I phoned hubby back in Qld to report on the weather forecast. Being his usual positive up-beat self he assured me that hail was perfect for a bike ride – I atleast had a helmet to combat the sky’s icy rock balls!

Knowing that we had 9 nights of camping on the ride… and being a not-so-gifted camper, Linda and I practised putting the tent up – in the living room of her house. Ok…

“What’s that loop thing for?”

“What the – ???”

“How the hell are you supposed to get that in the clip?!”

“Geeze – we’ll have to be careful not to skewer anyone on the ride with the tent poles!”

“What are the ropes for?”

“You peg them to the ground.”

“Do you know how to do that?”

“Nope.”

“Isn’t that pole supposed to thread through that loop thing on top?”

“How the hell am I supposed to hold the pole up, loop that thing and thread the other thingy through at the same time?!”

“Dunno – ???”

“Who’s idea was this anyway???”

A while later our home for the next week and a half towered above us in all it’s tent-like glory. Job well done! Now if I could manage to get my sleeping bag into it’s storage bag as easily and with less cursing I would be a happy woman!

Thank goodness assembling my kickbike is a much easier affair! Riding an old Millenium I only needed to attach the front and back wheels and then pump up the tyres (having deflated them for the plane trip). I’ve pimped the bike up with a Mavic Helium wheel on the front with a Michelin Krylion tyre, and the good old Kickbike wheel on the back with a Comet Primo tyre. While the Michelin Krylion (116psi) isn’t as fast as the Michelin Pro 3 (also 116psi) that I usually take on a public ride, it is dependable in the wet and is more puncture resistant. Using high pressure tyres my only hope is that I don’t get a flat out on the road and need to spend the next hour pumping up a new tube using one of those mini hand pumps!

After an intense debate over whether or not to sleep in the tent that night to get used to it – we opted for our beds. Afterall, why subject ourselves to sore butts and hips any longer than is necessary?

Off to Portland tomorrow – a five and a half hour drive to get to the start. Fortunately, Linda’s hubby is all prepared to drive us – packets of Snakes for snacks, thermos ready for coffee, Iphone filled with 70′s, 80′s and 90′s rock music… and now for a good night’s sleep.

Fortunately my helmet saved me from a head injury.  I also had a new appreciation for the Ab Workouts that I love to complain about as I am sure that it was those dreaded stomach exercises that prevented me from being totally winded as the bar end tried to do a Samurai on my solar plexus.

Since then you can be sure I have been somewhat paranoid when it comes to my laces.  Yes, I have tried double, triple and more knots to prevent any overhang. The problem: how do you get them undone in a hurry – especially when you need to make a critical adjustment during a longer race?

I remember on a cross country race a small jagged stone somehow ended up in my shoe. The combination of several double knots and the burs they had collected felt like they took an eternity to get undone as they stole precious time from the race.

“Lace Traps I don’t kick without them”

Over the years I have seen numerous attempts at trying to solve the laces issue including some of the elite guys resorting to reams of masking tape around their shoes. The solution I finally discovered that works best is a set of Lace Trap™.

A Lace Trap™ is a simple Velcro fastener that is a quick, easy and effective way to keep your shoes tied. Lace Trap™ saves you the hassle of tying and undoing double knots and reduces the risk of tripping over your laces.

A Lace Trap™ is one of those items that you will not fully appreciate just how good they are until you have a pair installed on your favourite pair of running/kicking shoes.

This brings me to my ‘ethical bribe’…

If you donate $20 or more to help send an Australia Footbike Team to the world championships in Italy during August 2010 we’ll send you a free set of Lace Trap™ so you can keep kicking safely.

Simply follow these 3 easy steps:

1. Go to the Supporters Page and make your donation of $20 or more.
2. Go to the Contact Us page and send us your shipping address.
3. Check your email inbox for our confirmation emails.

Keep kicking,
Alan Stewart