After 3 years in our current location and 5 years in Collingwood, it is time to move on. My partner and I have decided it is time for us to relocate to a more rural setting for our next adventure. As of November we will be calling Mount Beauty in NE Victoria home.

In the meantime, I will still be treating in Melbourne. I’ll be back one week every month and treating from The Running Company in Clifton Hill (175a Queens Parade).

Setting up the clinic here in Johnston St after a couple of years working with Liam at Vigor has been a wonderful challenge. But all things come to an end, and it is time for us to move on and make the most of our new opportunities.

Goals.

Life goals. After 10 years living in Sydney and 10 years here in Melbourne, it would seem that the goal of moving back to the country for a different pace of life is within reach. It may be just one more adventure, but it’s a big one.

Online bookings. 

Online booking is one the handiest tools for a small business owner. No need to book during office hours, you can book anytime of the day or night. My availability between here in Melbourne and up in the hills will be easily accessed via the usual booking system.

https://impactmassage.cliniko.com/bookings#service

Social Media.

I’ll never be a social media darling, but I do enjoy having a dabble on Instagram. If you’d like to keep up with Impact Massage and some of my adventures you can follow me on Facebook (Impact Massage) and Instagram or Twitter (@impact_massage).

Cancellations.

If you find that you need to reschedule or cancel an appointment, it is best to either call or text me directly (0404768067). If you prefer email, please email me directly (info@impactmassage.com.au).  I prefer not to charge cancellation and rescheduling fees, but as a small business guy, I do need some notice to cover appointments. Our standard policy is well stated on our booking page, please do read it.

The future.

The future always starts from where you are and you wouldn’t be here without coming from where you’ve been. From the inception of Impact Massage, I’ve always been grateful for the support, encouragement and loyalty of my clients. It’s been a privilege to treat so many wonderful people over the years and I’m a lucky man to spend my working hours interacting with such a good mob. The people, it’s always about the people.

I do hope to see plenty of you up in the mountains having adventures and enjoying what the beautiful alpine areas have to offer.

Ciao!

Scott “scooter” Vercoe.

Summer has been roaring along and it won’t be long before the days begin to shorten noticeably. Hard to think that we are yet to see a day over 40, it’s almost un-Melbourne. I hope everyone has managed to find some time for friends, family and adventures over the summer.

The new clinic has been an outstanding success. The support and encouragement I’ve received has been quite humbling. As a therapist, I’ve never been busier. As a business owner, I’m constantly challenged and rewarded by having taken the step out to run my own clinic. Thanks to everyone for their encouragement and support.

As the business has expanded my client base has also increased. It’s now time to look for new therapists to help build a thriving hub for health and well-being. If you know of any therapists looking for treatment space, there is a fully furnished treatment room available for rent. Ideally, it would suit an osteo, physio, myotherapist or massage therapist.

Saturday Trading.

Impact Massage is now open 6 days a week for your convenience. With a range of opening hours covering mornings and evenings, and now Saturdays, there is surely a time we can find to help you.

Merchandise.

There is still a few Impact Massage bidons floating about. If you’d like one, just ask when you’re in for your next treatment ($10). I am also looking at getting some new Impact Massage cycling jerseys made up. Let me know if you’d like one and I’ll keep you in the loop. In the meantime, keep an eye out on the  Facebook page, the new design will be posted up there with further details.

Goals.

Goals, I’ve had a few. Last year I got back in the pool after telling myself I should for the best part of 10 years. It’s been a great challenge and the improvements I’ve seen keep me heading back for more. I’ve been roped into the 24 hour Megaswim which is a fundraiser for the MS Society. If you feel like supporting MS and laugh at the idea of a skinny legged bike rider pretending to be a fish, you can donate here:

https://events.megaswim.com/2015-Fitzroy-24-Hour-Mega-Swim/scooter

Online bookings. 

The best thing since sliced bread. Save this link in your browser.

https://impactmassage.cliniko.com/bookings#service

Gift Ideas.

If you’re in need of a last minute gift idea, you might consider an Impact Massage gift certificate. I can easily email gift certificates to avoid the worry over an overburdened postal system. Everyone needs more massage.

Social Media.

I have also started to find my way through the Brave New World that is social media. If you’d like to keep up with Impact Massage and some of my cycling adventures you can follow me on Facebook (Impact Massage) and Instagram or Twitter (@impact_massage).

Cancellations.

If you find that you need to reschedule or cancel an appointment, it is best to either call or text me directly (0404768067). If you prefer email, please email me directly (info@impactmassage.com.au).  I prefer not to charge cancellation fees, but I do need some notice to cover appointments. I try to be reasonable.

2015.

The year is here and already slipping away. After a hectic start to the year, my list of things to do has grown and grown. Here’s a reminder to take a quiet moment to reassess and remind yourself of the things you love in your life and the things you’d like to see or do more of. Create the life you want to live.

Make the most of it.

Ciao!

Scott “scooter” Vercoe.

I’ve hit the pool and found some determination to improve my swimming. I may have also made the outlandish statement to my better half, that I would be a better swimmer than her in 5 years. It would have been handy to blame alcohol for such trash talk, but I can’t blame anyone but myself. My partner’s response was a classic, “And yeah, I’ll be a better bike rider than you”. This upset all sorts of notions I have about my self identity, so I quietly left the scene of my crimes.

Like all Aussie kids growing up by the beach, I had my fair share of swimming lessons, so I know the basics. Jumping back into the pool after a long time absence, I was surprised at how hard I was finding it. I seemed to tire far too quickly, and wasn’t having much fun. My partner sent me off to see one of her mates who is a swim and run coach. I felt like I was going back to school.

I’ve just finished a 6 week block of weekly visits and my improvements have surprised me. It’s been such a wonderful exercise. I’ve really enjoyed the process of having a coach. it has provided me with a lot to think about from the technical aspects of swimming and having the stroke broken down into it’s parts definitely appeals to the biomechanist in me. The drills that were assigned to me also provided some good structure to my swims during the week and were positively reinforcing my general improvements in the pool.

JB has done a wonderful job sorting out a few basic things for me to work on and my swimming has gone from seeing me puffed after 100m to be able to roll out a 3k session. I’d certainly encourage anyone to find a new activity every now and then. Trying something new can benefit all sorts of aspects of your life. It doesn’t have to be exercise related, this post could just as well be about pottery (now that gives me a good idea…)

Swimming has certainly improved my posture, and I can feel my core getting stronger because of it. I’m becoming more aware of maintaining symmetry in motion. As much as getting strong core muscles sounds like a cliche, it has a lot of truth to it. It would be remiss of me not to mention cycling, so I will sneakily mention that swimming is also helping my posture on the bike…

Thanks JB, you’ve done a stellar job.

Maybe I got a little conned, maybe I wanted to get conned. Normally the mention of bicycles and snow has me turning my back to the whole idea. I’ve done it. Too many times. I know how hard it can get. I don’t think there are too many things that have such a variation between the romantic ideal and the reality of the situation as riding in snow. It seems like it should be so much fun, all that swooshing and soft powder, beautiful sun, dappled trees, the imagination runs wild. In truth, it can often turn into nothing but a cold, wet trudge under grey skies with the ghosts of hunger and famine gnawing at your bones. This time, I got lucky. 

There were a few things that tipped me toward agreeing to this mad cap adventure. Firstly, the weather looked to be pretty stunning. Cold, but dry. Perfect.

The other positive for throwing my hat into the ring was the rest of the crew. I’ve been on enough adventures to know the importance of being with the right people. There’s nothing worse than having some git lose it at the wrong time. When the going gets hard and everyone is cold, wet and hungry, the last thing any group needs is someone to start complaining about being cold, wet and hungry. I’ve been on a few bike misadventures that were miserably wet and barely scraping above 0 on the thermometer. On the fun ones, everybody keeps it together and gets it done.

On one ride, we were unlucky enough to have a whinging pom that just couldn’t stop complaining about how cold his hands were. It was infuriating. To him, he was just stating the obvious. To us, sheesh, we could have rolled him off the edge of the cliff. Lucky there wasn’t one. We just picked up the pace a bit and made sure we were out of earshot for the next 3 hours. When we hit home, warmed up and dried out, we got stuck into him. Everyone had the choice to be out there or not, but the rule was, if you were coming, no whinging, no complaining. It pays to choose your company wisely.

The hardest trip I’ve done that involved a bike and snow, was crossing a snow covered pass in BC, Canada. I was making my way across BC to end up in Edmonton for the Cycle Messenger World Champs. A couple of days out of Vancouver the road I was on turned to trail, walking trail. It was past lunchtime and I thought I’d keep pressing on. With the optimism of youth telling me things could only get better, I gently pushed aside my common sense. The day got longer and colder, and I just kept seeing more snow. There were plenty of forest noises, some that sounded suspiciously like bears, but thinking bears were about wasn’t helpful, so I just trudged on with my task.

At this point, it was a serious little walking trail, impossible to ride. The snow was knee deep, and when I drifted too close to the trees, I’d fall through the snow up to my waist. Unable to face the indignity of turning back, I was portaging my belongings over the top. I’d drag my bike up about 3-400m, head back, grab my panniers, take them a further 3-400m and then back to my bike. I repeated this cycle near endlessly. Eventually, I came to the top of the pass and saw this wonderful bowl. I put my head down and hit across the other side, only to realise that when I got there the road was actually off to my right from where I’d stood before. I headed back across the bowl and down the road. Ahh, the joys of poor decision making induced by hunger and fatigue.

There was still too much snow to ride, but at least I could wheel my bike now. The road wasn’t steep enough to get any momentum riding, so unfortunately, I was resigned to pushing it. I was grateful however, that I was no longer carrying it. Soon enough I could ride little sections where the snow wasn’t as deep. As soon as there was enough of a cleared spot for my tent I pitched camp. I was so exhausted, I crawled into my sleeping bag and ate whatever food didn’t need to be heated. I still felt pretty wrecked the next day, but I did have a lovely 15km decent to start the day, followed by an afternoon of gentle climbing.

I think snow is wonderful stuff. Trekking through it at altitudes above 5000m is amazing and one of my all time favourite adventures. Riding through it, however, leaves me a little bemused. I see and hear of more people with the dreams of riding in snow, imagining how wonderful it will be. I hope they’re careful, because it can quite easily turn into a day you wished you’d chosen the lazy option of setting up by an open fire instead.

I’m pretty stoked that I got lucky. A hard day’s adventure with a couple of top cobbers, too many magnificent views to Instagram, and some great fun flogging down roads with the snow hub deep. I had fun, proper tired by the end of it. I won this day.

No matter where you go, there will always be someone doing something crazier than you. I’d like to think that it takes a bit to give me a surprise out in the back blocks. This guy did a good job. Coming around a corner we saw what appeared to be the love child of Mary Poppins and Forrest Gump. Cruised next to him for a while and had a brief chat, turns out he had intended to take the bike out but was put off by the weather and decided to go for a run instead. He certainly looked quite a sight running along with his brolley. He must have been a good 10-12k from nowhere. We picked up our pace again, and within about 800m the snow started falling. Awesome.

Getting into trouble is the easiest thing in the world to do, easier than falling off a bike. Knowing your limits and putting some effort into being prepared goes a long way in avoiding situations that are unnecessarily risky and could go pear shaped a little too quickly. Knowing what you are getting yourself into, having the right gear and taking adequate food are my 3 top rules for these long back country dirt rides.

I always plan on having food still in my pocket when I finish a big ride, especially on the jaunts around 200km in length. I figure if I get back to end with nothing left in my pockets, I’ve either needed my emergency food, shared it with someone or underestimated how much I was going to need. This is one of those situations where experience makes a big difference. Out in these parts, you can’t stop at a cafe, refuel and catch the next train back. There’s a whole lot of not very much.

I certainly needed most of my food on the ride last weekend. I found a new road, which always excites me. I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t ridden it before. It was sensational and I can’t wait to go back and ride it in the opposite direction. But I still have snow on my mind. There was a lot of snow up in the hills where we were. The novelty value of riding in snow wears off real quick, it’s hard work and traction is terrible. Very pretty, but diabolical. And it was snow that brought this adventure to an end.

Well, not an end, but a necessary diversion to one of my plan B’s. Another one of those roads I had always planned to ride was our destination, but it was covered in snow and with no vehicle traffic over it, it was not going to be easy. With over 100km in the legs at this point, Plan B seemed the prudent option. I had no idea what the state of the road would be in. The snow may have lasted 200m or 14km. The difference between a fun adventure and a harrowing experience are poles apart, and sometimes only separated by a choice of one option over another. We decided that we’d managed to cover a lot of what we set out to to and this road could wait til after the winter. We hauled back towards Warburton, an 80km route I’m more than familiar with and it’s quite a challenge not to consider it a trudge. Especially when you’re trying to convince yourself you’re not disappointed that you didn’t give the last part of the journey a better shot. But, I do think we made the right decision under the circumstances. All told, we rode 180km with over 3200m of climbing in proper winter conditions. Doing it on my mountain bike also left me pretty buckled by the end. I was certainly glad the day stayed dry, if the weather turned and it snowed or rained on us, it would have been properly miserable.

I wasn’t sure whether to include this or not, but I will, as life is not always fun and games. On the way back we were overtaken by a police vehicle with lights on. When we came to where they were stopped, we also saw a couple of motos with nobody to be seen. Seemed a little strange. Further on we were waved down by a policeman coming the opposite direction. Like a lot of the people you meet out there, he was pretty intrigued as to what we were up to, and rather impressed with our feat. Turns out he was on his way up the road to where there had been a suicide. A young bloke had gassed himself in his car. In my life I’ve had more mates than pass out of this world before their time, and I’ve seen the curse of the black dog do it’s damage. If you are feeling isolated, depressed, anxious then reach out, there is always help. Those closest to you may not understand your suffering, but they will be there to help, just ask them for it.

I cobbled a loop together out of the many and various ways to get from Warburton to Noojee. Broadly speaking, the plan was to head Warburton to Noojee, turn around and head back via a different way. I found it surprisingly easy to download my GPX file on to the etrex device and checked that I could find it when scrolling through the different rides that were already on the device. JM is always keen on an adventure and took no convincing to come along. Strong rider, good company, top shelf riding companion. Heading out to these parts in the middle of winter you have to be prepared for the possibility of some challenging times and it’s handy to have a partner in crime that can keep a level head.

We rolled out of Warby along a bitumen section. I figured there had to be a better way, but for my purposes the road I wanted to check out was about 15km out of town. Nice little warm up and then we hit the dirt and into the hills. We climbed steadily up through the trees and along some pretty decent road, I was busy taking mental notes of my surrounds and a few of the side trails. It took a little while to get the scale on the etrex right for me, but once I did, it was kind of handy. I could keep an eye on the route we were intending and not be too distracted.

As we climbed it started to turn a little cooler, and then a little damp as well. Jackets out. With a few minor turns, it took a little time to figure out how to translate the etrex to the real world, but I was getting the hang of it. We had a bombing decent into Noojee, a real grin worthy blast. The pub had only just opened, alas no hot chips this time around. We had a quick snack anyway and got ready to roll. I walked past the roaring fire and paused. JM was not far from walking out the door and spotted me warming my arse by the fire. 20min later we were back on our way with warm hands and dry shorts.

Our path took us towards Powelltown before heading back into the hills for the trip back over the range. We bumped into a couple of young lairs hooning around on motos having a ball. I was getting the hang of the etrex so I switched off following it for a while. We hit a mean mother of a climb that was very boggy and hard going. It went on for a lot longer than I figured it should have, but I was just thinking of keeping the legs turning and trying to stay on JM’s wheel. I rechecked it and realised I’d wandered us off course. Dang. It didn’t matter too much because we hit a road I’d also been thinking of checking out, but it was a good lesson to keep an eye on it. It reminded me of when I was a soignie and the first time I used a Tom Tom I was thinking I knew a better way. The mechanic let fly when I suggested a different way. “You either use it or don’t. Never second guess it, just use it”. I paraphrase here, because it was delivered in pretty colourful language.

Onwards we went, and the road got better and that feeling that civilisation wasn’t far away started to  loom. And the rain got heavier and the air colder. That chill was starting to get into my bones. I’d grabbed some booties out of the box we keep our riding shoes in, which is pretty unusual for a mountain biker. Booties aren’t really looked on favourably, but after my previous ride, I thought that little extra comfort may come in handy. As it turned out, I’d grabbed my beotter half’s which are far to small for me anyway. Right now, I was wishing I’d got that choice right.

We started to descend on a lovely piece of road, we were getting down off this mountain. I started to take note of some of the tracks heading off to the sides wondering which ones were rideable and which were sketchy little tracks loved by the motos. All of a sudden my helmet was knocked a little sideways. I moved my head to the side a little and then I felt a bit of a scratch on my head and my whole helmet started lifting off my head. My helmet straps were pulling under my ears and lifting my chin up, I started to stand on my pedals trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

The force backed off and I looked up. I saw the black shadow of a full grown eagle looming over me. WTF?! An eagle had just tried to take me for lunch. JM rolled down the road past me, and I saw the bird swoop him. Sheesh. If you haven’t seen one of these majestic birds, they are large. They would have a wing span of at least 3 metres and probably stand a good 3 feet high. We got back on our bikes again eyeing off the big bird sitting in a tree. We figured he had had enough and we could roll on home. Nope, he came back for another shot. We jumped off our bikes and held them as a barrier. I’ve been swooped by a few magpies in my day, but what the hell do you do to save yourself from an eagle?

I was in shock. what the f@#k was that all about? I suddenly also got pretty cold, I was having a hard time keeping warm. Luckily, it seemed the big bird was leaving us alone. We got to the bottom of the hill and headed back to warm, dry clothes at the car. It was still pretty hard to digest what had just happened, why, how, what. Here I am, over 6ft and an eagle had decided I looked like a handy meal. I’ll never fear a magpie swoop again.

That was the Brahams Incident. There’s every chance I’ll be back there before the winter is out. I keep poking the spot where the talon dug into the side of my head, at least it’s not bleeding anymore. Could have been worse I guess.

In the morning, we duly packed up, went for a wander up and down the main street of town and kitted up. It was a wee bit brisk, but the day was looking fine. The start of the ride took us up and out the back of town on the Walhalla Woods Point Rd. We took a right turn onto Binns Rd that took me into new territory. I’d ridden between Woods Point and Walhalla a few times and always wondered where this road led to. I was excited, and we were climbing. Such a great piece of road.

Onwards and upwards we hit McEvoy Tk and kept climbing. By the time we got to our turnoff and near to where this road tops out, we’d climbed for most of 90 minutes. The clouds were moving fast, but the weather still seemed pretty harmless, but we were definitely in mountain country and the changes close in fast in these parts. We turned off onto Donnelly’s Creek Tk, and had a brief chat about our options.

“I don’t know where this road goes, or what condition it might be in. We may well wish we had mountain bikes and not the cross bikes, it could get a little adventurous”.

“Well what do you want to do?, we’re here now, we may as well keep going”.

What a gal. What followed was a hooning decent, a little steep

and rough to get too loose, but pretty wild fun. It was also a fair bit cooler down here and the wind had picked up. At the bottom, we had a quick map check and a couple of ol’ mates camping in the hut came out for a chat. They thought we were mad. TIme to get rolling and and our first creek crossing. It was low enough to use some stepping stones and keep the feet dry. Tempting to hit it on the bike, but I’ve seen an unsuspecting river stone take out more than one rider in my time.

What followed was a magical cruise next to the Donnelly Ck. We came across a larger group of guys camping at a shelter, a few of them had been out riding moto’s. By the time we bumped into them, it seemed it wasn’t the first beer they’d cracked. Again, a couple of them were amazed that there were a couple of idiots out riding road bikes in the middle of nowhere. Certainly a great PR exercise for cyclists, chatting to a bunch of blokes that would normally have a fair disdain for pushies. Never hurts to break down a few barriers, and some of these guys will know these roads as well as a local. One of them was incredulous, which was quite entertaining, and pretty certain we would never make it back before dark. Looking up, I realized my better half had started to roll off. I guess she though ol’ mate might be right.

A couple more creek crossings, one of which I gambled and rode through, sweet. And then the fords. The first one was a decent size and no chance of riding. It looked like the feet were going to get wet. And then the second one. When you get wet feet and the temperature is probably hovering around 6 or 7 (before the wind chill), looking across a large creek crossing to a river crossing on the other side can be a little daunting. There weren’t many options, so I waded straight through. I figured it wise to a) set a good example and b) be just far enough ahead so I had trouble discerning the frown on my partners face.

Suddenly my words describing this as a 3 hour reccy ride came floating back to me. We were well over 4 hours in, we had wet feet, the wind was up, weather threatening and the light fading. Mmm, this seemed a little adventurous after all. On the upside, I was having a ball. The climb out of the fords was solid, a beautiful grind with a few steep pinches thrown in to keep you honest.

And then we hit it. Back to the main Walhalla Woods Point Rd, woohoo. I knew my way from here, back on familiar roads. Across we went, down we went, back up we went. Past all my old favourites, the climb up to Barnes Lookout still fun, Point Champion (remember that time Nick photobombed me here…) and back to where we turned off at the top of the first rise. The sun was starting to set and it looked a quite romantic view from Barnes Lookout, not really the time to stop though. It was high time to get down off this mountain, warm, dry and fed.

We took it easy down the last decent in the fading light and rolled back into town with about 4 minutes before daylight ended. So my “it’s a 3 hour reccy ride, not a 7 hour adventure ride” had us out for 6 hours, 47 minutes and 09 seconds. A quick change into warm clothes, dry socks and with the van packed in record time we were standing by the fire at the Wally pub with huge grins.

The day hadn’t turned out quite as we expected, but what an awesome adventure. These are the kind of rides I live for, with days like this, there is no drive for me to pin a number on. I’m a lucky boy.

And I still have to get back to check out that cricket ground.

Whether you are a professional athlete, highly active or just burdened by being desk bound, my treatments will help you get more out of life.

One hour treatments are charged at $85.

Initial treatments are 60min, 90min and 30min treatments may be available upon request.

Treatments may be available outside of scheduled online booking hours. Text to request.

Please note: Impact Massage has a new address as of October. I am now located at 132 Johnston St, Collingwood.

The Alice

Alice Springs is an amazing place to ride and race. I was there recently for the Easter in the Alice Muster. This was a 4 stage, 3 day event hosted by the local MTB club, Central Australia Rocky Riders (CARR).

The race consisted of a 27km TT, a night race following the same course, a 45km stage and the last stage an 87km loop. I was just feeling stronger and stronger as the race went on. I started to find my race legs in the final stage and felt like I could have kept going for an 8 hour instead of just the 87km.

The atmosphere at the vent was very similar to any club run event, friendly. The low key vibe suited my sentiments well, some racers take things far too seriously. As it turned out, I was in the money. I led the single speed category from start to finish and ended up 6th overall. Not too bad for an old bloke whose prime was 10 years ago.

Im sure there was a point to this post, other than The Alice is a great place to ride, fun was had and someone gave me a prize. Oh, there it is, adventures and grand and you can’t beat local.