cycling Mount Hotham

With the temperature predicted to peak at 42 today, I set out early this morning to tackle Mount Hotham. At 7.30am, I start from the pretty village of Harrietville and the first hill ramps up to punchy 11% for a few hundred metres to welcome me to today's mountain. It relents to a friendlier 7% for the next eleven kilometres, except at the hill known as The Meg where a road sign advises motorists to engage low-gear. I guess that means granny-gear for me? The rigours of yesterday's sauna-ride have taken a toll and I'm pedalling slowly. Only 27 kilometres of climbing to go!
It's shady this early and I'm enjoying the intoxicating aroma of a eucalyptus forest mixed with altitude. The perfume clears my head and makes breathing just that little easier. The parrots are out today, poking their heads over native grasses as I churn past. 
At the eleven kilometre mark, a false flat begins. My Garmin tells me I've climbed 700 metres and descended precisely... zero. With the easy gradient, it feels as if I'm cruising downhill. It's a pleasant opportunity to nibble on my muesli bar and drink some quickly-melting ice water. A cyclist comes up behind me and we chat for a while. He points to a high ridge across the valley to our left and tells me that's where we're heading. It looks devilishly high. I can see diagonal cuts in the forest on the ridge - no doubt that's the road we'll be on, in a few hours!

Twenty kilometres into the climb, my friend powers ahead and I contemplate my heart rate. A steady 140 bpm. I must be the only cyclist who climbs mountains with a heart rate below 150 bpm. That's another way of saying I am the slowest mountain-climbing cyclist. I've never really been a big fan of improving my time - I'd rather just enjoy the view and trundle along. 
The last ten kilometres of Hotham is characterised by a stunted-tree, wind-blown moonscape. It's not the parched rock and scree of Mont Ventoux, but it is bloody hard climbing and can leave a cyclist cruelly exposed to the elements. The biggest test occurs after a quick downhill, when the road ramps up alarmingly at CRB Hill. Ouch! 
I suck in the last of my bottle of water and begin the grind. Half-way up things slow down and get positively soft... which can only mean... yep, a puncture of my rear tyre.
Those wishing to avoid a paragraph of invective and moaning, please skip ahead.
I push my bike under a stunted tree, offering limited shade and begin the repair. Everyone gets punctures. It's no big deal. But what I hate is that once it's repaired, I'm only ever capable of pumping approximately 50psi pressure into the tube with my hand-pump. Road bikes run on 100-120psi. Which means I now have to scale another six kilometres with a half-flat rear tyre. I have a CO2 canister in my bag, but I'm too scared to use it. I'm likely to blow the tyre right off the rim! Merde!

Back in the saddle, I check my watch. Yep, a simple repair always seems to take me thirty minutes. CRB is 1.1 kilometre of 10%, followed by a short downhill before another steep section begins. I'm now into the crosswind ridge of Hotham and mercifully this early in the morning, the wind is still cooling. I enjoy the last few kilometres, despite the worry over riding without a spare tube. Whoa, another snaking windy downhill folowed by a painful 1.4 km section of 9% called the Diamantina. Lovely name, horrible gradient. Once the Diamantina is done and dusted, it's downhill to the Mount Hotham village.
I get my Seven Peaks Challenge passport stamped at the general store that temptingly offers beer on tap. I have a coffee and Anzac biscuit instead. 
At the fire station, a crew member helps me pump up my rear tyre with the station foot-pump. I'm pleased to see he has the time today to help. That means no fires, despite the State-wide heatwave.
Downhill is fast and furious. At one point I catch up to a four-wheel-drive. While it's mildly amusing to tailgate a car downhill, it also is downright childish, so I stop and empty the water bottle that was filled at the summit. Delicious! More twisty turning madness and look who's ahead. The same four-wheel-drive. This must be a very winding road to allow a cyclist such an advantage. 
At Harrietville, I load the bike into my car and check the temperature. 42 degrees, just as the Weather Bureau predicted.

The organisers of the Seven Peaks Challenge made the claim that these mountains rival those of the Tour de France. In my humble opinion, Mount Hotham sits well beside such iconic climbs as Col de la Croix de Fer and Col du Glandon. It's not Ventoux, but it is certainly a test of any cyclist with its steep sections and long distance.
Mount Hotham is a 'hors category' climb of thirty-one kilometres with an average gradient of 4.2%. Don't be fooled by this relatively easy gradient - the middle section contributes to this score. If you omit the middle, I'd guess it would be a twenty kilometre climb with an average of 6-7%. 
The total elevation gain is 1280 metres.


I have recently published an eBook about my bicycle journey across France, including a number of Tour de France mountain climbs.
     baguettes and bicycles  is a travel adventure, a restaurant safari and a guidebook for those who enjoy slow food, easy cycling and... fast descents.
     To purchase this book for $2.99, go to my Amazon page, here.