An Aerfast Robbie Allen report! Winning the Big One!

by cafe racer February 2, 2024

To kickstart Sydney’s racing calendar - the Anthony Spurgeon Sr memorial trophy is fast becoming a certified Heffron Park classic and an event where Sydney’s regular racers make sure they are all prepared for after a decent summer break.

For me, it followed a couple weeks in Adelaide at the Tour Down Under (possibly on the frothies), and gravel riding in the Fleurieu (potentially also on the frothies) - which told me that although I had the kms in the legs - I also had an extra couple kgs of ballast to contend with to start the year.

With that in mind, Heffron Park is a flat track - and I was mildly confident the weeks of carb-loading would help me contend with the crosswinds of the exposed 2km suburban circuit and maybe even finish the race.

Anthony Spurgeon, the undisputed ‘King of Heffron Park' – is a Sydney cycling legend who many may know as the unbeatable beast that dominated that goat track of a criterium circuit in Maroubra for almost a decade.

‘Spurge’ and his family donated the trophy in memory of his father – Spurge Senior, an influential and supportive presence that worked tirelessly to establish Sydney’s cycling scene. The race held in his honour raced as a graded-handicap, however with the brutal summer winds more-often-than-not finishes as a scratch-race taking advantages of small breaks at the front of the race in the final laps.

Raced on the same day as the Joseph Sunde Memorial Race that pits the NRS level racers against each other in a rare Heffron scratch race, the ‘Spurge Senior' Trophy, although not hosting the elite racers, is one where the bulk of Sydney’s racing community enter to honour the Spurgeon family’s contribution to cycling in the harbour city.

For me, this day (and every Tuesday) my pre-race Heffron warm up consists of a few early laps around Heffron with #mymateberniedog (yes he has his own IG tag) a kelpie/collie with a few high cadence efforts to get the blood flowing.

With a few drills and a warm-up sorted, Berniedog was now thankfully back at home - however my overall energy levels were still quite low. This is just one of the hangovers from 10 years of chronic fatigue. Learning to manage my nervous system when it wants to go to sleep, and not willing to operate (let alone race) in any way, shape or form. After much internal anguish to even contemplate racing, I soft-pedalled to the back row of the starting grid to get involved in the race.

Rolling out, and it was soon evident that pace was going to be intense. 6 laps in, and with the big dogs still pulling solid turns - my nervous system was near cooked. The lack of any intensity over the previous month of the Xmas/New Years period was showing - I had poor positioning and I was hurting. I know in these circumstances and with my fatigue often needing bit of time to adjust, it was a matter of blowing out the cobwebs with a high HR effort.

Despite my energy levels I could feel I was actually moving through the wind on my bike a lot easier - a big kudos there goes to my new carbon machine. Underneath me I was giving my new racing supersteed of a bike - the Storck Aerfast4 one of its first proper tests.

If anyone has seen this thing – it’s an absolute stealth bomber of a race bike.

Firstly, it’s noticeably low in its profile, absent of any exposed bolts to catch the odd watt from the wind, and an oversized fork blade to cut the wind like Mick Dundee’s croc hunting knife. Tested in the Kaiser's German wind tunnels against all market-leading high-end aero bikes - the Aerfast4 came out number ONE ... OF THE LOT, and considerably more aero than the best-of-the-best bikes of the world tour.

In the back of my mind, and certainly underneath my chamois I knew that I had bit of a secret weapon and I needed to get my butt out of first gear and test it out myself.

I promptly moved my way up the pack to get the HR up and give the legs some airtime. Before long, I found myself on the front singing a bit of Cat Stevens in my head for decent half lap turn. I was actually enjoying out there on the front - and to be honest - doing it all pretty comfortably. This was a good sign if ever there was to be one.

From that point on, with 10 laps to go, it was the team of Centennial Park CC, along with the veterans of Dan Forsyth, Matt Warner-Smith and John Peppard, and the two pronged Hydraplay team (myself and big Adz, Adam McCoy) pulling consistent turns in the top 10-15 riders to make sure the pace was high enough to catch C grade - who had well over 2 minutes advantage on us. The high pace of the front of our race meant that the 'catch' was made much earlier than first thought.

With 8 laps to go – the ‘Spurge Memorial’ was now essentially a scratch race for the most motivated in the race to inject either confusion, or showcase their strength at the pointy end. Young bomber Ben Coates grabbed Richard Brooks and the panzerwagen Clemens Timm to go off the front for an extended stint discussing industrial plumbing connectors, the two state solution, and the Reserve Bank’s decision to keep interests on hold.

From that point on, it was barrage of constant attacks over the top to see who would get away from the bunch and hope for a lull in the chase. The pursuivants at the front of bunch today were far too strong and coordinated, and at 5 laps to go Centennial Park CC threw two big dogs (Chops and Simpson) off the front and I knew many behind me would not contribute to a chase.

This called for some CX inspired gutter-riding and pothole hazard negotiation to bridge over. Legs and bike were promptly cast to the wind in an effort to bridge to the CPCC break.

Job done, break caught, and a fair bit easier than I thought. Legs and body were now truly warmed up. However, our small break lost any steam I hoped it had and it wasn't long before the peloton made contact with my back wheel, but the race was now well and truly on, now strung-out in a single file from this point through to the finish.

With the mind briefly returning to my holiday back in the Fleurieu Peninsula – I inadvertently found myself way out of position coming into the last 2 laps, however with the Team Hydraplay DS Vaughan McVilly screaming from the second 'pimple' on the hill ‘find Adz now’ it was time to jump up.

Negotiating this move from 20-back on the bell lap, my teammate ‘Big Adz' promptly positioned his derriere high in the wind like a chimpanzee looking for a mating partner. In the process of trying locate Adz's glowing red butt – a huge attack went into the wind down the home straight on the bell - and we knew that was the attack to get on to.

As I jumped, so did the CPCC big dogs. Into the last lap, the front of the race consisted of - one off the front, two CPPC riders chasing, me chasing them, then Adz on my wheel.... then the bunch.

I was relying solely on the CPCC riders to bury themselves to catch the single attacker. When that catch was made at the back end of the ‘squircle’ – the kinda-square, kinda-circle that used to be a WW2 munitions facility - it was time to lay my cards on the table, and dictate how this race would play out.

Much like the Rats of Tobruk - my legs had a full magazine of bullets that were ready for a long-range sniper volley. And when CPCC caught that sole rider – I knew it was time to empty the magazine.

One thing I know about Heffron Park, is that when the southerly is blowing, any sprint efforts down the home straight are promptly subdued by the wall of wind in your face – rewarding those who sit in, and start their sprint late.

With the strong wind dictating a predictable race behaviour into the straight, I started my own sprint 1200m from the finish and with the wind at my tail.

It was the time to go, I launched, and possibly well-before punters were expecting, unleashing a saliva-ladened, full-froth sprint with the wind to get that gap happening.

Over the 'first pimple' I snuck a peek under my armpit, the gap was at more than 10 metres – it was on. Time to go again.

With the stink of a washing pile of unwashed knicks – I went full noise over the 'second pimple' past DS Vaughan – who was I’m sure was thinking WTF is Robbie doing. Dead Silent. A first, from the most vocal manager in Australian domestic racing.

The gap was growing as I hit the tight loop at the netball courts. With another look across my shoulder, I saw big Adz, the massive-lock-forward-of-a-beast who resembles Hulk Hogan on a bike - calmly at the front of the bunch, and in the middle of the narrow 3m wide criterium track. Some motivated riders were manoeuvring around the Hulkster, but then easing up, not wanting to be that fool to lead the chase into the home-straight headwind.

This was the exact hesitation I was banking on. If I could keep a gap into the straight, I might just be able to hold it into the line. I know very well that I don’t have a massive ‘pop’ in a sprint, but I do have some ability to hold a prolonged effort for a decent length of time.

And much like a $200million power ball entry - It was the bet that I hoping was going to get me to the line.

I entered the home straight with a solid 30 metre gap - knowing that I was about to enter the hardest 15 second effort of my life. Head down, I went aero, backing my Storck Aerfast 4 which I knew was custom made for this exact scenario. I put my faith in that little stealth bomber and the South Oz gravel training to be able to handle the prolonged period of suffering and get me to the line.

I was feeding off race MC and legendary Heffron commentator Paul Craft calling the bunch moves as I swerved my way down the finishing straight. I could tell the pack was closing and closing fast.

Young rocket Ben Coates launched, and was leading the chase to reel me in. I could sense the anxiety and yelps from the punters lining the home straight that Ben was right on my wheel.

The all-too-familiar gearing noises and hollow carbon clinks were getting louder and louder, but I could also see the black and white line. The all-out effort into the wind may just have been enough. I waited until the line was underneath my front wheel before giving the most painful of one-handed victory salutes.

The last lap explosion, backing the ability of my new aero bike and following the Team Hydraplay playbook worked an absolute treat.

My heart rate hit an all-time high, and to be honest, that’s all I could hear as I after the line as I made my way shoulders slumped down towards the ‘squircle’ as I caught whatever breath I could find.

An action-packed Anthony Spurgeon Senior Memorial race for 2024, one that I’m pretty stoked we had the fortitude to attempt to win in the way that we did. A great bike, a great team, and an awesome bunch of fellow racers in Sydney’s racing circuit that were amazingly honest and refreshing in their compliments for the way the race was run and won.

Written by: Robbie Allen - Anthony Spurgeon Senior Memorial Race Champion

Photos by: Richard Scriven @richscriven & Auriol @auriolc_photography

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