FLEURIEU TALL RAMBLE : WRITTEN REPORT

Late in 2013 I was feeling like there was too much working and not enough riding in my life, so it was with great glee that I began to fit the pieces together for a few days of tall packing in December.  My mate ‘Bushman Dan’ Freeborn was back in town after spending the Top End tourist season misleading European backpackers around the Kimberley and another top shelf mate, Simon ‘Elbow’ Elliot was on one of his biennial returns from his current Francophonic home of Quebec.   Each are great adventurers, cycling and otherwise, and were excited to join a silly two-wheeled touring odyssey.  My mate Jess was non-committal but when I started talking as if he wasn’t coming he became quite defensive and quickly made arrangements to join the adventure. There was a route that had been on my mind for a while – three days across the Fleurieu Penninsula, taking in various elements of Deep Creek Conservation Park and sections of the Heysen Trail.  Of course, the premise for this travel was that it be undertaken on tall bikes – variously providing wonder and entertainment for all those we encountered and offering a challenge to riders who are bored with reality, looking for a fresh approach to cycling and a chance to test their backyard engineering prowess.

On the Thursday evening we loaded our various wacky steeds and gear into the van and drove to Normanville to spend the night in a buddy’s cabin at the beachside caravan park.  After waking early and preparing ourselves a hearty breakfast, we set about strapping our bits and pieces to bikes.  One of the many advantages of having excessive frame and fork space on is that it creates a number of extra places to stow and strap on luggage.  Extra long forks make a great spot for mats, tents and sleeping bags, and Jess has even developed his patented ‘fruit basket’ shaped rack which comfortably supports a 30L dry bag.

 

The day’s first leg, through Yankalilla and up Kessler’s Hill Rd was relentless and made all the more challenging by huge swarms of free-loading blowies.   Rather than buzz their own way to the top of the hill they preferred to hitch a ride with us, simultaneously licking away at our salty sweat with their tickly probisci, leaving us wishing we’d brought the dangly-corked-jolly-swagman version of our cycling helmets.

Once atop the ridge we were rewarded with great views and a series of big dipper shaped gravel roads that alternatingly invited the rider to ignore brakes, throw caution to the wind, woot gloriously with excitement and enjoy the spoils of anchorless gravity consumption, only to be required to quickly return to whatever lowest gear is available in order to grind onwards to the peak of the next crest.

We climbed all that was to be climbed of our unpaved roads and began to be quite excited by the prospect of descending some glorious singletrack through dense scrub.  It took a little rabbiting around to discover our magical Hesysen Trail marker but we were soon at the trail head salivating at the idea of radical dirt action.  Of course, this mood was tempered by an understanding that we didn’t really know what the trail was like and we weren’t necassarily supposed to be approaching it on bikes  (the Heysen trail is denoted as a walking specific route but often includes highly cycle-able fire trail and open areas).

After about 5 minutes of nervously grinning, giggling and crossing our fingers along a narrow, meandering goat track it became quite clear that this trail was going to get the better of us.  Resigned to accept a battering on behalf of nature, we tramped our bikes for a while before taking a little rest in a clearing.  Refreshed, we pushed on, pedaling along some pleasant fire trail before being confronted by a truly ridiculous section of what some unhinged individual incorrectly described as ‘trail’.   Lugging outrageous machines down the side of cliff face covered in five foot high weeds was not we had hoped for but all we could do was laugh at the absurdity of all for half an hour or so till we finally reached the bottom.

After a short section of rolling gravel we arrived at Inman Valley  where we fueled up on a round of Devonshire teas.  The next section meandered through a section of Second Valley forest punctuated by various lifting bikes over fences sequences.  At this point the trail markers advised us to hop another fence into a paddock filled with fresh cow pats and absolutely no sign of a trail. ‘Follow the fence’ the description said and what was marked as a lovely straight line on the map dipped sharply in and out of a valley of long grass with no clear indication of any trail over the horizon.  We hadn’t expected that the most extreme part of our adventure would take place in a field of cows.  The next hour or so was spent slamming our backsides repeatedly over the perfect wheelsized holes left by our hard hooved companions, dodging sloppy bovine waste and trying not to be too worried about the fact that we had no real idea of where we were going.  A little more bumping, bike rattling and fence hopping later we popped out at a gentle country lane.  Relief was an understatement.  Flocks of galahs squaked at us, red bellied black snakes wriggled out of their sunning spots and we even got to hang out with an echidna which was quite the treat.  By the time we reached the tarmac leading in Victor Harbour we were well and truly weary.  We decided against the last skerrick of dirt trail described on the map and chose to descend the steep, grin invoking main road into town.  We topped up with snacks and refreshments at the local supermarket and set up camp at Victor Harbour Beachfront Caravan Park.

Our second day began with a big grind back up the hill that had given us so much joy the day before.  It didn’t take as long as we thought it might and we were soon cruising gently along Ridge Rd.  As it’s name suggests, this road travels along the ridge of the hills and, as such, yielded fantastic views down to valleys on each side and further to the ocean.  Bushman Dan took a couple of stops to adjust and pack his luggage as well as adjust his package, made significantly uncomfortable by his choice to wear two pairs of knicks.

We took a lunch stop at the Parawa community hall and CFS station, refilling our water bottles and resting in the shade of the verandah.  Ridge Road continued its spectacular meandering for a while longer before we turned back onto gravel towards Deep Creek Conservation Park. It was not long before we arrived at Stringybark campsite, an oasis like zone of tall shady trees surrounded by bushland and made all the more luxurious by the presence of hot showers.  We enjoyed the rest of the afternoon imitating the local kangaroos lazing around in the glorious sunshine.  There was an abundance of wildlife to watch including kookaburras, black cockatoos and heaps of tiny wrens.

Our final day began with a bit of a ski slope style run adjacent the campsite.  It was just the thing to get the blood pumping and the pupils dilated.  It may, however, have been the final straw for Simon’s rack, which began its death rattle in earnest a little way along the day’s journey.  (insert steel is real commentary or various ads for the glory of Tubus racks here)  A trip wouldn’t be complete without a real MacGyver moment and so we happily set to work grafting a timber crutch to the poor old rack via excessive cable ties and PVC tape.  Don’t leave home without ‘em kids!

 

We doubled back along Ridge Rd for a bit before turning off onto Hay Flat Road towards Yankalilla.  A lovely rolling unsealed section led into the steepest, rideable descent of the trip.  This was a proper heart starter!  We pulled into Ingalala Falls for a snack and a look at the scenery before continuing along our final leg.  The surface of the next section was predominantly super smooth and mildly downhill.  Combined with a healthy tailwind, thoughts of a massive barbeque cook up and refreshing ales made this a supremely enjoyable leg.  We stopped briefly in Normanville to pick up some lemonade and sausages and made our way back to the caravan park we began from.

FLEURIEU TALL RAMBLE : VIDEO

A tall packing tour tale of stretched proportions. Join four likely lads and their unusual machines as they trek across South Australia's picturesque Fleurieu Penninsula.

Jimmy's Tall Bike Adventures - Fleurieu Ramble from James Dodd on Vimeo.

MORE GREIPEL FREAK BIKE ACTION

SANTOS SUPER CYCLES v LOTTO BELISOL

The most recent of my bike projects is about to kick off.  The 3 high tall and the double dual suspension are all tizzied up in team colours ready to become part of a show with the world famous Santos Super Cycles.  We had our first visit to the tour village in Victoria Square today and were very happy with the pending festival site.

Ricky Ricardo, Brazilian national and tall bike sprint chamption is shown here doing a few disco stretches and making sure his bling catches the perfect South Australian sunlight.

Andre Greipel, German National Champion, multiple Tour de France stage winner and multiple Tour Down Under winner and his Lotto Belisol team mate Marcel Sieberg were keen to try out the prototype technology and reported that each of their chosen test bikes rode well during their 150km training rides this morning.

Keep an eye out for more appearances and racing featuring the Santos Super Cycles in this year's Tour Down Under.

DUAL SUSPENSION PROTOTYPE

There have been a couple of projects that have been keeping my greasy fingers away from the editing station and closer to the shed over the past few weeks.  You’ll have to stay tuned for bit more coverage of our recent tall touring.  Till then, here’s a little peek at what’s been happening in the lab.

I have teamed up with Adelaide locals Bamboozled Productions to make a couple of strange cycles that will become part of little bit of entertainment during the 2014 Tour Down Under.  These machines will be accompanied by an assortment of unicycles with all of their various riders clad in some super costuming.  We aim to provide some comic relief from the painfully uptight scene of lycra clad super humans battling each other in our searing January heat.  I have been pondering performance oriented outcomes involving strange machines for a little while so the invitation to become involved in this project is one that I am quite excited by.

 

Here are a few working shots of the bikes as they are becoming resolved. Recent play with old dual suspension frames led me to this frame design.  Twice as many moving bits equals twice as much fun and, yes, for those of you familiar with the lingo – this thing is PLUSH!

I’ve wanted to do a 3 high for a while.  I had a small tech breakthrough with the resolution of an adjustable, disassemble-able headset, which is a common headache for multi headtube designs. We’re hoping to fit a couple of extra wheels somewhere to this beast.  Meanwhile, I’m still practicing the nuances of a graceful free mount. Keep your eyes peeled for more appearances of our wacky team during the TDU.

THE DEVIL'S ELBOW

A recent challenge and test run for a couple of new rigs was a climb to our local summit, Mt. Lofty.  Of course the fun is in the descent.  Pictured below.

APOLLO MISSION

The Apollo program undertaken by NASA was one of true frontier exploration and irrational adventuring.  It yielded science many breakthroughs and entertained the world.  It has also been borrowed as a brand name for an Australian bicycle company.

I am currently missing two of my favourite machines as they are locked away in the stark white confines of galleries.  This has led me to pondering a number of things - the ongoing rhetoric of whether art objects can be useful (and whether art objects need to be 'not' useful in order to be art)? -  what am I going to ride now?  and can I further my quest to build a tall bike that can pack down to be transported to other places in the world before beginning an adventure?

A design solution epiphany came in the form of realising that when adapting something to break down into smaller parts, why not begin with something that already is constructed of smaller parts?  Enter the dual suspension frame design, essentially two parts that are joined together.  This particular build uses an existing dual suspension design to achieve an outcome that is easily disassembled and packed down into a compact form.   The particular design also overcomes a number of other bike nerd problems which I wont go into detail with now.  Here's a little step by step of the first phase.

Donor bike - sourced via your local friendly Gumtree directory.  A mid 90's rad machine that has been sitting in the gentle time capsule of someone's shed for twenty years, avoiding the inevitable thrashing that most of these received by eager teens who believed they were in posession of an ultimate downhill bike.  Carefully selected for its steel rear end and a host of other handy nuances.

Dissection and loose configuration, with care taken to retain the frame pivot which will become the main point of disassembly.  Removal of now redundant rear suspension spring.

Fabrication of freshly mutated rear end.

Experimentation with angles via cleverly integrated adjustable components.

First assembly and test ride.  Now all that's remaining is a consideration of carriage potential and which Apollo mission to name the bike after.

EASEL RIDER : PART 2

 
One shot of said machine in the saccharine sweet sanctuary of a contemporary art gallery, as accompanied by a suite of sassy paintings.

EASEL RIDER

 

Here's version two of the Easel Rider attachment tall bike combo.  Perfect for the suburban artiste with outdoor tendencies.  The bike will feature in a show opening this week at Ryan Renshaw Gallery in Brisbane.  It will accompany a bunch of paintings of suburban landscapes including holes in fences, dumped hydro set ups and decapitated palm trees.

Those of you who are farcebook oriented can check out the event page here-

https://www.facebook.com/events/772357779446278/?ref=22

UQ ART MUSEUM SELF PORTRAIT PRIZE & 4ZZZ INTERVIEW

Here's a little sneak peek of my bike as it is presented at UQ Art Museum in Brisbane. 

The curator, Samantha Littley, spoke to local radio station, 4ZZZ about the exhibition.  The interview includes a bit of a chat with yours truly which you can listen to here -

http://ondemand.4zzzfm.org.au/no-brow/2013-10-20

The whole show goes for an hour, if you would like to cut to the bikey part go to 34:00...

THE ART OF ADVENTURE : ADRIFT IN CREATIVITY

There are many parallels that can be drawn between art and adventure.  They are both romantic ideas that can fill a heart with buoyancy, eyes with fog and a head with so much determination that it endangers the very well being of the individual.  Grand ideas such as risk, frontiers and the unknown, all echo loudly in the opening credits and imbue the audience with a sense of wonder and expectation.  They quiz one another, curious as to whether the artist has realized a true cultural breakthrough or merely presented another walk around the block. 

I am most fond of the idea of adventure in two particular nuances.  Firstly that of boyhood escapades – things like the Huck Finn story, two boys on a raft, set adrift on a whim.   Things like Saturday afternoons spent ushered out of suburban kitchens and into laneways and scrubby fringes to building BMX jumps on vacant blocks and making cubby houses in trees – all of that classical youthful stuff that I lament we may be losing to handheld technologies and a fearful libelous epidemic.  Secondly, I like the kind of adventure that makes the elements of the traditional adventure tale – things like Moby Dick, or Robinson Crusoe where the trusty hero’s path is somehow lost, yet the core of the story requires these very mishaps and the unfolding events for their very existence.

There were times in the world were these tales or myths were the things that made up the very fabric of everyday life.  Various kings, empires, scientists and nutcases have all set forth from their various home corners of the globe to try and discover things – usually riches or glory.  There were, indeed, national institutes of explorers.  Entities such as the National Geographic Society began as a club for an elite group of academics and wealthy patrons interested in travel.  There were people like Thor Heyerdahl, a Norwegian explorer and writer who was convinced he could sail a raft across the Pacific Ocean between South America and Polynesia.  This supported his theory that ancient civilisations could have done the same. Thor pleaded with these types of walnut paneled institutions to financially support an expedition such as this in much the same way that Australian artists might put forward a case for their own creative expedition to creative funding bodies.  Thor, however, received a letter of rejection in the mail and had to sweet talk a Peruvian despot into privately funding his fantasy.  The expedition eventually went ahead with great success and all of this in the late 1940’s. For those of you interested, there is a great film of the Kon Tiki voyage which was released in 1950 and a half decent dramatization of this story.

There is a riveting example of an Australian artist who took the raft into his own hands, sealing his own rocky fate and an undeniable place in the cultural psyche of our nation.  The Scottish born Ian Fairweather was a typical creative genius loner.  He was well-heeled young man of the world had received a bunch of high level art training and was, by all accounts, quite talented.  Not long after our friend Thor Heyerdahl completed his Pacific crossing in the Kon Tiki, Mr Fairweather found himself living on the beach in Darwin.  He hatched a plot to build himself a raft and sail it across to Indonesia and set off under cover of darkness one evening so as not to be restrained by local (safey concerned) authorities.  Fairweather promptly disappeared and was considered lost at sea.  He did wash ashore later, though news of this, for various reasons, took a long time to return to Australia.  Suffice to say, Fairweather’s adventures were many, varied and intense and worth pursuing.

Here’s a little clip of the man himself.

 

And a great clip of New Zealand artist Mike Stevenson telling Fairweather’s story by way of the artwork he has made in homage to the man and his extended journey.

Perhaps these have contemporary manifestations in popular media in the form of shows such as Lost, Survivor or Bear Grylls (who has made an appearance previously in this blog.)  I would also say that the unknown in the world and inquiry into it, as represented by my superhero, David Attenborough, might be a good example to note of my kind of televisual adventure.  David’s frontiers are combined in both that of the physicality of the planet and those of our nominal understanding of the magical life forms that inhabit it.   And so, it seems, adventure requires a solid sense of investigation.

It has become clearer to me over the period of this project that I am quite interested in looking for intersections between adventure and art.  I like the idea of analogies that can be drawn between the motivations, ideals and actions of both artistic and adventurist undertakings.  They are clearly both endeavors of passion that are not the path well trodden.

There are a couple of Aussie artists that I would like to mention in closing.  Patrick Wundke is a young Adelaide based artist who has taken it upon himself to pursue urban camping. Sometimes this is in places where he simply plonks himself but, more often, he finds himself refuge in people’s yards via way of door knocking and asking if it is ok. More of Patrick's action here –

I have to include the wonderful Australian photographer Murray Fredericks.  Of course Murray comes to the surface because he has various bicycles at the centre of his creative adventures.  That is not to deny for a minute the amazing photographs he captures whilst camped at the centre of Lake Eyre for days at a time.  You can see some of his greattimelapse work and a little doco of his processes here.

And to sign off – my favourite cartoon of the moment, for those of you who are as yet unaware of it’s pure brilliance – Adventure Time!

DUCHAMP : WHAT’S WHEELY GOING ON?

Here's a shot of a fun little work that has been on my mind for a while and recently made it into reality.  It is something of a multi-layered one liner  and it is also one of those artworks that makes a whole lot more sense to someone who has studied art than someone who hasn’t.  It has occurred to me on a couple of recent occasions that it deserves a little unpacking for those people engaging in this project who are more interested in bikes than art.  Whilst it may seem to be an obscure kind of wacky object, it arguably references the most significant artwork made by any artist of the last century.

One hundred years ago a French bloke by the name of Marcel Duchamp revolutionized the idea of making art.  Up until that point the dominant way of thinking about art making was that an artist should find a nice landscape or still life to paint or find a model who would take off their clothes so that they could create a statue in that person’s form.  Duchamp and his mates had different ideas.  Mass manufacturing, an outcome of the Industrial Revolution, was only a relatively recent reality and it occurred to Duchamp that perhaps the products of this process could be considered as art.   As a bit of a smarty pants scallywag, Marcel wanted viewers to question relationships between labour and art, techniques and concepts and the general space in which art operated.

He made (or didn’t make) a number of these works over time.  The most known of these include Bicycle Wheel, a urinal, renamed Fountain and a simple Bottle Rack.  To name these artworks and this way of approaching art making, Duchamp coined the phrase ‘Readymade’.  His ‘work’ was rejected and derided by institutions and establishments of the time but has turned out to influence the whole of the art world of the Twentieth century in proposing that the idea behind an art work is as important or even more so than the object that we are presented with.

Some of you might know of another significant artist of the last fifty years called Andy Warhol.  Most famous for his screen prints of Campbell’s soup cans, and considered challenging during his time, Warhol could not have conceived of this work without the prior work of Marcel Duchamp.  It is a little known fact that whilst Andy could make great art and be a superstar he couldn’t ride a bicycle.  Here is a picture of Andy being pushed along, grinning like a small child, pretending to ride his friend’s bike.

If you are still curious about the idea of a Readymade, check out my mate Hennessey Youngman delivering streetwise knowledge on ‘How to make an Art’ (below).  Hennessey also fits neatly into the broader scope of this project in terms of examining portraiture and identity as constructed and portrayed in a social media context.

ADELAIDE PRESS

A little spread on people who experience Adelaide form places high up - such as tree fellas.. er, fellers, high rise window cleaners and freaky cyclists.  In this October's Adelaide* magazine.

TALL BIKE PACKING

‘Bike packing’ is a term used in place of ‘cycle touring’. It has a set of connotations much more closely related to the idea of backpacking, trekking, rugged-ness, leaving the beaten path and pursuing adventure. Whilst cycle touring, as terminology, does not preclude these things it is certainly more indicative of the European traditions of behemoth pannier bags, socks and sandals and a legionnaire hat type attachment flapping around at the back of the riders helmet.

In the instance of this particular post, however, it refers to that art of packing a bicycle into a box for the purpose of its own travel. Of course with conventional machines there a set of conventional approaches to this, most commonly a simple, disposable cardboard box. Travellers who are often taking their bikes with them might invest in such things as ‘hard cases’ that resemble a massive, firm suitcase in which their beloved steed will fit. Or there are lighter-weight, less protective versions of these, referred to as a ‘soft case’. 

In my case I have create more of a monolithic cabinet which, whilst still comfortably lifted by two adults is preferably hoisted onto the back of a vehicle by way of a tailgate lifter. This is definitely not going to make it through domestic airline excess baggage check in, although I assure you this machine is designed to dismantle and fit into a conventional cardboard travel box as supplied by your friendly international carrier. In defense of it’s excessive nature, I note that the crate will serve another function in due time. More updates are pending regarding the destination of my machine and the application of its ridiculous travel case. 

SUNSET MOTION

Many of the investigations presented as part of this project are simply that. This is an opportunity to test ideas without them necessarily becoming totally resolved. This little video fits into this category. The idea has been on my mind for a while but it needs some more time for it to become tight. Regardless of that, I would still like to share it in it's current form, to be considered as something like a sketch. 

Jimmy's Tall Bike Adventures - Sunset Motion from James Dodd on Vimeo.

BIRDMAN THEORY

One of the things that interests me in undertaking this project is to explore the idea that people can improve their potential or extend their ability to engage with the world via machines.  More particularly, I am interested in the ways in which people undertake this process in a DIY manner by building things in sheds or yards and testing them on themselves.  This, to me, indicates the true nature of innovation and of invention.

Take, for example, the idea of human flight.  This has been around for a while, beginning with our old mate Leonardo da Vinci through to the early successes of the Wright brothers.  Who, by the way, were bicycle manufacturers in their day jobs.   Human powered flight is another thing, though, perhaps better examined as unpowered flight that has reached particular resolution in forms of hang gliding and radical new wing suits.  There are still those people out there who insist that they can build something in their very own garden sheds that will defy, or at least suspend, gravity for extended periods of time.  This type of individual is referred to as a ‘birdman’.

They get together and jump off of things, over water, for the purpose of entertaining one another and masses of heaving, excitable crowds.  These events are referred to as Birdman Rallies, one of the most famous Australian ones being that which accompanies Melbourne’s annual Moomba festival.   There are also high profile global equivalents such as the UK’s Worthing Rally and the Japan International.

What does all this have to do with art making, portraits and bicycles you ask?  Well, I believe there are a number of Australian artists who espouse the ideals of the birdman in elements of their practice. They take perfectly working objects and modify them in a way that further enables the objects real world and creative potential.  They cobble things together in fantastic ways that give us glimpses at new outcomes and insights.  This group is by no means exhaustive, but it does offer a sense of what is on my mind.

Firstly I would like to introduce Michael Meneghetti, a performance artist who creates various body extensions and personas with which to test ideas.  A 2012 collaboration with Joel Gailer, presented at Fremantle Art Centre, titled Performprint yielded the particularly impressive ‘Harley Printmatrixson’ costume, pictured below.  Check out more detailed documentation and a swag of other great things that Michael has done here - http://michaelmeneghetti.com/projects/performprint-2012/

Henry Jock Walker makes the list with his modified surfboards that become sculptures and also sites from which to make paintings (whilst surfing).  There is a little vid below of some of Jock’s water borne creativity.  He is currently touring around Australia using his van as a mobile studio.  Whilst this may not sound that unique, Jock’s painting technique often involves the vehicle being in motion at the time.  Check out more here - http://henrysmobilestudio.com/

HMS: Making boardart and Surfing Paintings from Henry Jock Walker on Vimeo.

Simon Pericich is another young man who takes everyday machines or tools and repurposes them for strange human extension.  Often referred to as art that is dark, disturbed or dystopic, his works collate everyday objects into groupings and investigations that are not quite comfortable.  Sometimes makeshift weapons emerge in fusions of tired cricket bats, Astro Boy’s head and some hastily fixed and very sharp looking screws.