Five Go Mad In ...Wait... Where ARE we?

The planets just weren't aligned yesterday (Sunday) which was such a shame as Ruth had the whole route planned out and I was particularly looking forward to just following the group in unchartered territory.

Firstly, the weather. It wasn't pissing down. It was just sort of dribs and drabs here and there. So we decided we would just go for it. Ruth, myself and Jacqui met at the ferry stop, 6.30am and made our way up Dornoch, down Gladstone and picked up Jacque en route to Toohey Forest. Celia was planning to go on the 7am ride but Kirsty and Michelle had (wisely) given that one a miss due to the weather so she called and hooked up with us at Tarragindi. By the time we were all on our way we had lost a good deal of time. The going was slow partly due to the wet and I think I was being particularly cautious (read slow) which did mean a few stops while the others waited for me to gingerly catch up.

The rain came in waves. Never heavy but enough to slow us and be annoying. And then I didn't bring a raincoat so I got very wet and cold. We got as far as about Carindale-ish along the Bulimba Creek bikeway when we stopped under a bridge (Wecker Road) and had a brief conference resulting in the unanimous decision that coffee and a warm cafe would be the most sensible option. We broke out the map.

As it turns out we were in some kind of weird dimension where the nearest cafe was bloody miles away and we were going to have to hoik it down some rather large roads to get there. So, with an air of determination - that air of determination you get when you are coffee deprived and cold and know the faster you pedal the closer you'll be - we hit the big roads. My chain came off which was not too much of a problem but then Celia got a flat. Our first flat! We were sort of excited!

A quick inventory of equipment showed that both Ruth and I were carrying spare inner tubes and pumps and I had some tyre levers so the removal of Celia's inner tube ensued.

It was the back wheel and in our haste we forgot to take it off the actual bike! Eventually we remembered. After a bit of fiddling, the tyre levers worked and out came Celia's offending inner tube.

Never fear, my trusty spare tube will save the day

 Then we tried my inner tube but it was a Presta valve and I knew my pump was convertible to Presta but I just couldn't seem to pop the attachment out. So Celia tried Ruth's inner tube but the valve was too wide to go through the hole in the rim of the wheel. Back to plan A and I finally worked out how to convert my pump so we pumped up the tube. Then Celia tried to put it on her wheel but it deflated so I pumped it up, she put it on her wheel and it deflated so I pumped it up she put it on her wheel and it deflated...is there a hole in it? NO there's a screw on top THATS IT! OK pump it up this time and we'll trap the air in with the screw!!! GENIUS.

So we pumped up the tube to "half a mungrel" flaccidity and attempted to insert said tube into the tyre. Only the thing was this tube was gigantic! I checked the wheel - 700mm. I checked the box of the tube: 700mm. The tube was like a METRE in diameter! This caused mass giggles all round as we all stood there, cold and wet wondering what the hell to do with this hoola hoop bloody inner tube.

Something's not quite right here...

Jacque: making the best of a bad situation

Ruth and offending tube. Look at the bloody size of it!

 Finally Celia decided to admit defeat and call Keong to come and get her: Flat tyre 1 Wonders 0

Jax and Jacqui helped Celia across the road with her bike and detached wheel

A dreary old end to Celia's ride

 The weather started to clear as the remainder of us carried on. I kept giving in to spontaneous giggles at the thought of the size of the tube. Eventually we found a nice little coffee shop somewhere on Logan Road (3kms from Stones Corner the sign said) and we tucked in to some delicious breakfast and coffees. It was a lovely little break and would have been even lovelier if it didn't start frigging raining the minute we got up to leave. It was then a case of "let's get the hell home" and with an air of determination that is common to those in desperate need of a nice warm bath/shower and a couch with blankets, and perhaps the soothing sympathetic coos of a loved one... and maybe a massage and another cuppa... we set off again.

A final push up Gladstone and we were done. Jacque declined our kind offer of escorting her up the hill too just for the hell of it. What a shame!

Door to door it took us nearly 4 hours and we did about 48kms. We'll chalk this one up to experience and try Ruth's 100km again soon!

Late edit: I have looked it up and the place we went to is Swich Espresso, Logan Road, Holland Park West. Excellent little place!