Day 5: Yarck Out 50km on the Great Victorian Rail Trail and Back—No Hills, No Worries!
We’re almost halfway through this Old Legs Tour, and the weather decided to play nice—none of that “I’m a mountain, climb me!” nonsense today. Not a single climb over 150 metres—practically a flat-surface paradise. We cruised into Yea, where the milkshakes could rival Hungry Lion milkshakes.
Sadly, Dave, had to call it quits. After falling ill yesterday, his doctor gave him the official “You’re benched, buddy” and sent him home for tests. We’ll miss his jokes and sense of humor!
Meanwhile, the rest of us had a bit of a cruisey ride—well, relative to the other torturous rides we’ve done on this tour. Today steep mountain climbs were not the problem, the real nemeses of the day was the magpies. Turns out, they’re the real Old Legs Tour bullies, swooping in with unwarranted attitude and ensuring we hurried up on our way.
Dinner was at the Yarck Hotel, proudly advertising “Where the fark is Yarck?”—
Meter count? A modest 757 metres over 110km—that’s “taking it easy” in tour terms. Picking a Hero of the Day was a challenge because, frankly, no one went full OLT heroics. But Johno snagged the honor for executing a slick move that stopped yesterday’s hero from accidentally turning him into a hood ornament on a sharp downhill. Phew!
Day 6: Rest Day—And Yes, We’re Taking It Seriously
After we peeled ourselves out of bed (somewhat reluctantly), an English breakfast assembled our motley crew for the day. Next stop: Alexandra, for much-needed supplies and, more importantly, coffee. We planned a lunchtime braai, with special guests Nicky and Tony Passaportis from ZANE rolling in from Melbourne. Howie took charge as braai master, producing what Alan declared the best meal of the tour so far—bribery or not, we’re counting it as a win.
The afternoon was a study in relaxation: Johno spoiled the alpacas next door (since someone has to adult), while the rest of us perfected the art of lying about looking busy. Lights out early—we’ve got actual work waiting for us tomorrow, so best to be ready!
From magpie attacks to milkshake battles and alpaca diplomacy, the Great Victorian Rail Trail continues to keep us guessing—and laughing.
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Join us on this journey as we ride for hope, dignity, and a better tomorrow for Zimbabwe’s forgotten pensioners. Let’s prove that getting older only means tougher legs, bigger hearts, and a better sense of humour.
Day 7: Yarck to Healesville – Frostbite Meets Fine Wine
We kicked off Day 7 with an invigorating 3-degree wake-up call. That’s right, a brisk morning that makes you question if your toes are still attached—but the skies were gloriously blue, so who’s really complaining?
The ride began on a rail trail, which was quite encouraging because let’s face it, trains rarely climb hills. Sadly, the trail didn’t last, and we hit the tar with heavy Friday traffic that smelled suspiciously like roadkill. Who knew exquisite wineland countryside came with such a pungent stench?
Lunch was at Yarra Crossing and the afternoon improved with some pleasant paths leading to an early arrival at the Big 4 campsite, where we found lodgings called “Pods.” Howie appropriately labeled them “Hobbit dens,” which was spot on—compact, cozy, dry, and perfectly acceptable for aging elves and washed-up cyclists alike.
Today’s brute stats: 90.2 km with 1057 meters of climbing. Hero of the day? Macca, who bravely stayed upright and upright-ish through it all, earning his Triple M stripes.
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Join us on this journey as we ride for hope, dignity, and a better tomorrow for Zimbabwe’s forgotten pensioners. Let’s prove that getting older only means tougher legs, bigger hearts, and a better sense of humour.
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