Born to choose
Posted by Ben on | April 11, 2008
My cycle to work takes me past an abortion clinic. Every day three old people stand out the front. Their sole purpose is to confront the abortion clinic’s patients. In doing so they harass people who they know nothing about, nor do they know anything about their circumstances. Despite this they see it as their duty to tell young women what to do with their bodies.
As if having an abortion was not traumatic enough.
As I rode past my eyes met with one of the religious old men. I just shook my head. I did not say a word, I didn’t need to because the look on my face was enough. All the old man said to me was, “That’s your choice”.
Exactly! That’s my choice. What part of “choice” is he unable to grasp?
If there is a God why would he want to be associated with any of these people? The answer is simple. He wouldn’t.
The following day it was raining. On my usual cycle to work I was interested to see that the religious trio were nowhere to be seen. Their faith must be tested too vigorously when the skies opened.
At least now, if you are a woman having to face an abortion you just have to wait for the heavens to open.
Awareness test
Posted by Ben on | March 26, 2008
Water for Mulga Bore school
Posted by Campbell on | March 9, 2008
Ms Jenny Macklin MP
Minister for Indigenous Affairs
Parliament House
Canberra ACT 2600
Dear Ms Macklin,
Re. Water for Mulga Bore school
Firstly, congratulations on the Government’s historic Motion of Apology to Indigenous Peoples. Congratulations too on the Government’s commitment to close the gap between Indigenous and non-indigenous Australians in areas such as life expectancy, education achievement and employment opportunities. I welcomed these with all my heart
Today I am writing to you about the water-quality crisis at the school at Mulga Bore in the Northern Territory. According to a report in The Age on February 28, the school is closed because they have no water. According to the report, “drinking water pumped from two bores is so severely contaminated with nitrates that young children, babies and pregnant mothers are at serious risk […] Mulga Bore’s nitrate levels are 1½ times greater than World Health Organisation standards for developing countries.”
It is almost unimaginable that a school here in Australia has been closed because of a lack of drinkable water. It is an image straight out of the third world. Both the symbolism, and the reality of its impact on the life expectancy, education achievement and employment opportunities of the children of Mulga Bore, must be devastating.
Are you aware of the situation at Mulga Bore? What is being done about it?
I would urge you to do all that you can to bring about a speedy reopening of the school at Mulga Bore and to ensure its long-term success.
Sincerely yours
Campbell
Day 1: Launceston to Sheffield
Posted by Melissa on | March 9, 2008
Launceston > Evandale > Deloraine > Sheffield
MC 126kms, BB 140kms
We head out of Launceston - a fairly straightforward pedal past City Park and through a few traffic lights (the last we will see for 5 days).
We ride through the smell of cut straw and earth turned and ready for the next crop of spuds. And road kill. Wallabies, kangaroos and wombats, possums, domestic cats, birds, echidnas and even Tassie Devils; all dead on the side of the road.
We move through farmland along a road fringed with blackberries and brambles - 24 kilometres to Evandale, home of an annual penny-farthing race that was held for the 100th time the weekend before. The finish line is still chalked across the main street where we find a bakery that is heaving with biscuits and preserves.
Over coffee we start to get to know our little pedalling family - Simon (our guide), Stu (his brother-in-law and a Collingwood dweller), Collin (a GP from Newcastle), Steve (‘Dash’) from Hobart, and Noosa cyclists Peter (a real estate agent), and retiree and occasional bike guide in Europe, John. Sam is our dynamic guide - a logistics magician, cheerful energetic force, driver of the support vehicle and generous camp mother.
Another 60 kilometres through rural scenery but we ‘bonk’ (for non-cyclists: a technical term that means running out of food) before reaching our lunch spot (over the bridge, by the river). Sam revives our flagging bodies with a huge picnic spread and a good big wedge of Simon’s mother’s carrot cake.
To the hills and we plunge with heart in throat up the Gog - a brutal ascent with a gradient of 16 per cent that sorts out the boys from the girls. This girl gets off and walked some of the way in her socks, happy to be taking in the views without the pain. I decide against tackling the Gogette - a slightly smaller incline - and so am able to take some pics of Ben and Simon tackling the last 16kms into our temporary home - Sheffield.
Day 2: Sheffield to Tullah
Posted by Melissa on | March 9, 2008
Sheffield > Cradle Mountain National Park > Tullah
MC and BB 110km
Out onto the main road, past the pub, under the stony gaze of Mt Roland. Turn right into a formidable headwind (that John later describes as “a hand on the forehead”) and pass through undulating country and settle down for a 6-kilometre 11 per cent upward grind. Simon’s warning that there is no flat country in Tassie seems to be true. The temperature drops and the wind picks up as we turn off the main tourist road into Cradle Mountain National Park, over the cattle grid and past the scurrying echidna, It’s 10 degrees so after a quick lunch we keep going and head back out into the tourist traffic – a steady trickle of winnebagos - and gusty winds and a short rain shower.
Our next home is Tullah, a former mining and hydro town ringed by mountains. The temporary portable housing sets a certain dreary scene but the rooms are cosy, the showers hot and the view over Lake Rosebery a million dollars. We find a spot beside the lake to watch the wind ripple the black peat-stained waters, and hardy locals jumping off a pier into frigid waters.
Day 3: Tullah to Strahan
Posted by Melissa on | March 9, 2008
Tullah > Mt Murchison > Zeehan > Strahan
MC 80kms, BB 110kms
My knees ache all night. I ‘sag’ (climb into the bus) as the early morning cloud lifts from over the lake and ride the easy way for the first chilly 30 kilometres. As Ben and the other cyclists pedal over the saddle of Mt Murchison and down to Lake Plimsoll, Sam and I chat and take photographs. I jump on my trusty red steed at morning tea to tackle the heavy undulating roads that lead to Zeehan, a mining town famous for its 27 pubs. A patch of sun to enjoy another great lunch at the local Lions park. We are travelling along a busy tourist route used by winnebagos and hire cars driven wrecklessly by holidaying visitors who leave too little room for cyclists. A truck chases Simon, Ben and I up a hill and down over a shakey plank bridge for a 10-kilometre team ‘draft’ with a last minute sprint (won by Dash) into Strahan. Strahan is all about its waterways and people flock to it to appreciate its proximity to the Gordon River and wilderness areas, its location on the west coast, and the efforts of its fishing fleet (Peter bags a crayfish for an afternoon snack).
Day 4: Strahan to Bronte Park
Posted by Melissa on | March 9, 2008
MC 132kms, BB 157kms
Goodbye busy touristy Strahan. We climb up and out, ascending for 13-kilometres through heavily timbered country to take in great views from mountain lookouts before descending into Queenstown. Famous for its ‘moonscape’ landscape that was created by years of copper mining, Queenstown has more trees that I remember when I went there in the nineties. The fellas try out the town ‘velodrome’, a sealed track that encircles the local (gravel) footy oval, before we head out of town. The climb out of Queenstown is a fairly steep and winding 6-kilometre road with great views of the pinks, yellows and greys of the surrounding exposed hills. There’s another 40 kilometres before lunch so we line up and draft efficiently behind the superior power and muscular legs of locals Dash and Simon, all the way to a sunny spot where Sam awaits us at Lake Burbury.
Our task this afternoon is to conquer Mount Arrowsmith. It is a universal truth of cycling that the only way to climb a hill is at your own pace. There is a natural hierarchy when the altitude increases, with part of the group speeding up and the rest settling in for a slow climb. My climb up this formidable and seemingly never ending incline is indeed slow, but rewarded with glimpses of the magnificent Frenchman’s Cap along the way and the rusty colours of high-altitude grassy meadows. At the top, triumphant, we eat lollies and then roll towards our new home in Bronte Park. The final leg takes us through Derwent Bridge where walkers of the Overland Track (Cradle Mountain to Lake St Clair) emerge, and past busy echidna. We are in alpine fisherman country (a strange breed that we observe over dinner).
Day 5: Bronte Park to Hobart
Posted by Melissa on | March 9, 2008
Bronte Park > Hamilton > New Norfolk > Hobart
MC 120kms, BB 160kms
Another steepish climb in the chilly early morning shade and then much ascending and descending and ascending again in and out of valleys lined with fat hydro pipes and power stations. After lunch at historic Hamilton we encounter some over zealous canines – a kelpie that leaps fences in a single bound and a terrier who thinks he is a greyhound and is determined to defend his boundary fence. There’s a killer hill at a corner – very short and very sharp - at Rosegarland then there’s another downhill race through golden farmland to New Norfolk. The last 40 kilometres to the Hobart Cenotaph are part country road and park bike path through Hobart’s northern suburbs. Peter and John have circumnavigated the island in 10 days and approximately 1200 kilometres – a might effort that started and ended in this green park where people are jumping out planes. The rest of us have endured 700 kilometres of unfamiliar terrain, beautiful scenery and great company. The beers taste sweet that afternoon.
Day 6: Up Mt Wellington, Hobart
Posted by Melissa on | March 9, 2008
Hobart – Sandy Bay > Kingston > Ferntree > Mt Wellington Summit
MC and BB 79kms
Back into city cycling - the lanes and lights and fumes are a bit of a shock after a week of wide horizons and clean air. We spin through bayside suburbs and along busy roads. Mt Wellington with its pale communications tower seems a long way off as we cycle the many undulating hills lined with homes with large leafy gardens. Our friend John starts feeling worse for wear and leaves us to return and rest in the city. It is unusual for a road leading up a mountain to have no switchbacks (turns), that snake back and forth and flatten out temporarily on the curve. The road up Mt Wellington offers no such respite and couples the 12-kilometres of straight incline with a heavy uneven road surface. Simon knows every trick in the book and points out to me that there are numbers on the road that count down the agony to the top. I become fixated on the numbers and somehow we all make it to the summit where it is chilly, our friends have gathered and there are fabulous 360-degree views of the Derwent River, the ocean, Bruny Island, Hobart city and its suburbs. A few tourists clap as we go past.
The making of the Beijing 2008 Olympic logo
Posted by Ben on | February 24, 2008
