There is no font big enough or bold enough to truly epitomise the epic awesomeness that is THE BAYSOICA (Disclaimer: if from Luxembourg please pronounce BAYSO-ICA) nor should it ever be mentioned without caps lock on, or spoken in anything other than a deep manly voice.
It should follow that it therefore takes a deep, manly, bold and big man to take on something like…..THE BAYSOICA. Fortunately Mark, Chris and Rohan were able to overlook this and allowed me to come along and document the adventure.
So it was that under angry, pink and purple skies our intrepid band of lycra clad, warriors of the dirt, set off on our mighty steeds shod with 25mm Schwalbe Duranos towards the murky depths of the Avon Valley.
The ride through the Swan Valley is scenic enough to put a massive grin on ones face and as the skies cleared and the threat of rain disappeared we tapped out a comfortable pace and enjoyed the setting.

It’s moments like riding through Perth’s wine region that reinforces just how lucky us Perthites are. Fricking beautiful is one way of putting it and this was only the ride to get to the ride. It was upon viewing this sign sent from the powers that be, we knew the real adventure was about to begin.

And thus THE BAYSOICA truly began. 50-70kms of dirt roads, no map, no speedo, no reception up the Avon Valley towards Toodyay….on road bikes. “Road bikes!” you say incredulously, “on dirt?!” to which I can only reply, bitumen is soooo 1824.
After the initial adjustment, a wobble and a slide here and there we once again settled in. The bikes handled the terrain well but were just enough out of their element to keep things interesting, the added stability of the afore mentioned rubber certainly helped.

We had only two punctures…….

…….and met a lovely lady along the way, she was a little blue and didn’t say very much, but I could tell she dug me…..

…….our team mascot, Thin Lizzy, kept in tow but our team car came to grief.

With a vault of the last obstacle we knew that the fabled climb of the Durtenburg was looming.

And then we were upon it.

This climb out of West Toodyay would be hard enough on the tarmac but throw some red gravel into the mix and you have wheel spins and front end drifts. It was here that disaster struck. (And I started playing with the settings on my camera)

With a resonant ‘Ping’ Chris’ rear mech exploded and we were left scratching our heads as to how we would get home…..Oh yes, we all forgot a chain breaker.

Thus we pushed, walked and rolled towards Toodyay road were we were rescued. In the mean time I took some pics of the surrounds.

Dangerous country round there.

The last 25- 30kms were on the road into a howling headwind but salvation was on the horizon in the form of,

And so in the middle of nowhere our adventure came to an end. Ladies came to meet us blaring Rhianna in european made cars.  We ate, we drank and we were very very merry. THE BAYSOICA will return, bigger, better, longer and with more Gnarrrrrl next year. Until then I bid you adieu or at least until the next post.

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