Author: Chad Dobbs

I ride bikes, I live in Melbourne and I live with the black dog

Why I Walked Away From The RSL

Posted on by Chad Dobbs

I left the Australian Army 16 months ago, in that short period I have become a very vocal contributor and critic of veteran’s affairs in this country.  In particular I have written about and contributed to issues in regards to the Government and Australian Defence Force’s handling of veteran support services for veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan.

It is a fact that many people within the Federal Cabinet and ADF hierarchy have the perception that the current system is doing enough to help wounded servicemen and servicewomen.  This is not true however; and as more high profile Soldiers such as MAJGEN John Cantwell break down the stigma attached to PTSD; the support systems in place are getting better.

Traditionally the Returned and Services League of Australia (RSL) has been the main avenue for wounded servicemen and women past and present to pursue support and rehabilitation services.  The various sub-branches around Australia have men and women, mostly ex-serving members, acting as advocates that help the people in need communicate with the Department of Veterans Affairs (DVA) and Veterans and Veterans Families Counselling Services (VVCS) in order to facilitate the required support services.
The RSL as a whole does a good job at this; however the various sub-branches sometimes aren’t as supportive as they should and to be honest are funded to be.

The RSL has a long history.  Founded after WWI as a support service for returned servicemen; it continued to flourish in the peacetime years and throughout and post WWII.  Without giving an in-depth history lesson; the years that followed included the Korean War, threat of communist invasion, threat of nuclear war and of course the Vietnam War.

I am a 3rd Generation Soldier.  My Grandfather served in WWII across Africa and Europe, my Father served more than 40 years in the Australian Army and served in Vietnam; and I have served in both Iraq and Afghanistan.  To say my families’ recent history is steeped deep within that of the Australian Defence Force is not too far removed.  Both my Grandfather and Father have been awarded the Order of Australia Medal for their services to veteran’s advocacy and service to the Australian Army respectively.

My Grandfather was the President of his RSL sub-branch in excess of 40 years and my Father has been a staunch advocate within Legacy and his RSL sub-branch for many decades.

In the final years of my Grandfather’s life he stepped down as President of his RSL Sub-Branch; but remained a sitting board member and veteran’s advocate.  Throughout the years he had amassed a very comprehensive list of contacts including high ranking ADF officers and politicians; both state and federal.  It was a testament to his character and reputation when the Lord Mayor of Wollongong officiated at his funeral and hundreds from the veteran’s and RSL community attended.  He was given a proper serviceman’s farewell at which I delivered a short, but heartfelt eulogy and placed a poppy on his flag draped casket, next to his WWII medals.

I have been accused of not knowing enough about the subject of veteran’s affairs before and to be blunt, the people that have made these accusations are full of shit.  I have admired the two Patriarchs of my family for their dedication to veteran’s affairs since I was a young boy and have also learnt a lot from them.  Now in my own way I have taken up the torch in order to fight for today’s young veterans.

While my Father is an active member of his local sub-branch; I doubt he will ever forget the way the returned servicemen of the Vietnam War were treated by the RSL.  The Vietnam War divided Australia.  People not only protested against Australia’s involvement in Vietnam they also shunned and persecuted those that wore the uniform in service for their nation.  My Father was spat on during his “welcome home” parade, pigs blood was splashed upon other Soldiers as they marched through Sydney.  And then the RSL told them “Vietnam wasn’t a real war”.

Imagine serving your country proudly in a foreign land; facing death on a regular basis and then being shunned by the very organisation set up and funded by the Federal Government to provide you support services.  I’m not referring to the Veterans of Vietnam; I am referring to today; and the veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan.  Young men and women fight for their country in the Middle East and are not afforded the respect that comes with serving your nation.  In this regard certain sub-branches within the RSL have failed.

I have experienced this first hand; however I will not tarnish the entire RSL by the actions of the few.  That is not fair and hopefully in the following years the RSL will realise their folly.  If they choose not to openly embrace the modern serviceman and servicewoman the RSL will sadly disappear into the annuls of Australian Defence History like the thousands of men and women who have died wearing the uniform.

My decision not to join the RSL was made very easy when I was snubbed by the very sub-branch my late Grandfather was the stalwart of.  As a 3rd generation serviceman and the Grandson of the man that dedicated more than 40 years of his life as Sub-Branch President it was insulting.

They openly criticised the need to include “young blokes with tatts” into their ranks.  At first I was angry, but this soon faded as I realised there were alternate avenues for young veterans like myself to access the various support services they are entitled to.

For this reason I will support other advocacy and support services such as Soldier On and Mates 4 Mates as a lot of other Iraq and Afghanistan veterans in need will also choose to do.

Back On The Bike (Possibly Off It Again)

Posted on by Chad Dobbs

It’s been three very long weeks since I had my crash at Mt Stromlo during Round 10 of the CORC XC 12/13 Series.  It was my first venture into short course racing after entering and successfully completing several endurance mountain bike races.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I went into the XC race full of confidence… Maybe too much confidence.   I’m not saying it’s the reason I had my off or is responsible for the extent of my injury; the truth is I entered the race as I wanted/needed a challenge and it just so happened I felt fully dialled in during the ride.   But then, seconds from the finish line I attempted a jump, didn’t stick the landing and have been going through the last few weeks in considerable pain.

I’ve never been one to sit back and wait for injuries to heal and for rehab to work.  The truth is I’ve torn muscles, broken bones and had bouts of acute illness and gone straight back to work or back into sport.  It’s a stupid thing to do and as I get older and my susceptibility for injury increases; it takes longer for me to heal.

So now on the eve of Round 1 of the new CORC XC 2013 Series I face a conundrum:
Do I race or do I sit this one out?

There is not straightforward and simple answer; only more questions…
Do I want to race? … Yes
Should I race? … No
Am I fit enough? … Maybe
Has my chest & shoulder healed enough? … No
Is it safe for me to ride? … Maybe

I went for a ride yesterday afternoon on the same track as tomorrow’s race.  I only did one lap and I struggled a little bit.  It takes a fair few kilometres for me to warm up and by the time I had reached the 7km mark I was finally warm.  My chest and shoulder held up well, but I didn’t go as fast as I normally do and will need to go during the race.

However I woke up this morning quite tender and tonight I’m in considerable pain in my shoulder where the tear originates.  As with all muscle injuries you don’t feel the full extent until you cool down; and well I’m feeling it right now.

I’ve prepped Zooey and set my alarm for tomorrow morning with the intention of riding out to Mt Stromlo as part of my warm up; although a 30km commute seems a little excessive for a 20km race.

I guess I’ll just wait and see and if I decide it’s best not race tomorrow I’ll go out to Mt Stromlo and cheer on the rest of The Berm riders and help out my local MTB club.

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Taking Off The Uniform

Posted on by Chad Dobbs

When I left the Army in January 2012, it wasn’t just a change of job. My whole world changed. I was a civilian for the first time in a long time.

The Army isn’t just a job; it is a culture, it is a lifestyle, it is your life.
Say goodbye to the normal aspects of life and say hello to restrictions and new rules that you abide by. Put simply, you get told what to do, when to do it, how to do it and not to ask questions.

Don’t get me wrong, if I had my time over again I would still sign that piece of paper and put on that uniform that still hangs in my wardrobe.
On a daily basis I miss my mates, I miss putting on my uniform and lacing up my boots. I miss being a Soldier. And with tomorrow being Anzac Day I miss putting on my medals, drinking and sharing a warrie or two with my mates.

But I don’t miss the bureaucracy that plagues the ADF. I’m not going to rant for pages about what I think the many issues are and how to fix them; I’ll leave it at one for this post. The ADF does not care about the individual.
It’s quite simple, and I think you would be hard pressed to find any serviceman or servicewoman that disagrees. At some-point somewhere in their career they have been pushed aside, given a very raw deal and told its for service reasons.

I left the Army when I knew I was only a number on a spreadsheet. Qualifications and experience meant nothing when my number was matched to a role I had zero interest in and had explicitly expressed never wanting for a number of years. My fate was sealed before I even got my posting order.

I owe a great debt to the ADF and in particular the Royal Australian Navy for recognizing my anxiety and depression when others dismissed and ridiculed. I spent a very long time learning that what I was experiencing was in fact a somewhat common reaction to my circumstances and not to be swept under the rug.

I had a lot of my issues under control for a decent amount of time with a few acute episodes flaring up in late 2011 when I was fighting my posting order. Only when I accepted that the best option for personal, career and mental health progression was to take off the uniform did my anxiety and bouts of depression subside.

I would never want to forget my years in the Army and the times I served my Nation overseas. But I am happy with my decision to take off the uniform and start a new chapter in my life.

N+1 Is A Simple Yet Complicated Equation … aka Rule #12

Posted on by Chad Dobbs
The rules of cycling are applicable to all forms of the sport; be it road, time trial or MTB.
They are many, but they are clear; there are even rules that can be interchanged to allow variations under extreme circumstances.
For the purpose of this post I will focus on one rule only… RULE #12

While the minimum number of bikes one should own is three, the correct number is n+1, where n is the number of bikes currently owned. This equation may also be re-written as s-1, where s is the number of bikes owned that would result in separation from your partner

I own three bikes already.  My beloved Zooey, her road riding sister Sara and my hand built single speed commuter.

As the girly will attest, I spend a lot of time with my bikes.
Put aside the 10-12 hours I spend in the saddle each week; after each ride I will meticulously clean and mini-service Zooey.  Every few days I will do the same with Sara.  And I spent weeks stripping down the frame, sanding, painting and finally building my SS roadie.

It is not a chore for me, it is therapeutic   Maybe it stems from my years in the Army where you unpack, clean, reassemble and refit to fight all of your equipment and stores post exercise or operation.  I’m have a set way I clean and service my bikes; I follow the same formula each time.

…Anyway I like bikes; and I like the concept of Rule #12; you are always on the look out for a new bike.  Which brings me to my +1 bike crush!

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The Giant Composite XTC 29er 1.

It’s an amazing bike.  It looks great, rides great and it’s a carbon frame.  N+1 indeed!
However there are a few complications in my equation:

  • It’s rather expensive
  • I’m getting married soon (do I really need to spend money on another bike?)
  • It’s a hardtail 29er (I ride and race a dual suspension)
  • The girly doesn’t really support/understand my need for this bike

I was at a point prior to my crash and torn pec where I was stupidly bike fit.  I had spent enough time in the saddle that I was stronger, fitter, faster and healthier than I had been in a few years.  The simple truth being; riding gets you fit and healthy and makes you happy.
However I also reached a plateau in my riding too.  I wasn’t getting anymore big gains and I wasn’t getting much faster on my standard rides.  Something had to change.

That change was adapting my riding.  Firstly, my riding position; secondly, my bike setup; thirdly, my nutrition.  I started to make more gains, but they were slower than I expected; I was slightly disillusioned and quietly disappointed.  I made the mistake of increasing the intensity of every ride.  Doing this is sure fire way to failure.  I was experiencing muscle fatigue and DOMS on a regular basis.  Instead of putting together a proper training program I just hit it hard; too hard.

The end result was over training and over confidence… Ergo, a poorly executed jump at the end of a race that resulted in a torn chest muscle and weeks off the bike.

Which brings me back to N+1.  I’ve decided I will compete in the CORC XC Series on Zooey for the time being.  I’ve got some ground to make up once I’m able to ride and I’ll do that properly with a training program and medical guidance.  So no +1 for me in the near future.

For the time being I’ll leave a picture of the XTC above my desk at work and put in the required kilometres on the incredible bikes I’ve already got.

Hopefully one day in the future; for a brief 24 hour period N+1 becomes N, and I’ve got an XTC sitting in my living room…. And then the equation reverts back to N+1 once again.

The Roadie

Posted on by Chad Dobbs

The Roadie

Every morning I walk down the stairs and see Sara sitting there. She’s good to go; bidons at the ready, tyres at 120psi, Garmin charged and helmet and glasses waiting.

It’s been a week since I tore my left pectoralis major and I’m missing riding.

Starting to think my aim of being ready for Round 1 of the CORC XC series in early May might not happen.

The Agony & The Ecstasy!

Posted on by Chad Dobbs

Every now and then you have a ride where nothing seems right.  
You are off your game slightly; the legs just don’t seem to have enough for the climbs; your lines in and out of corners are terrible.

It’s during rides like these you have simple offs.  A misjudged corner and you hit it with too much speed and end up in the trees or in the dirt.  Other times you can’t get your shoes out in time and end up on your side with a large chunk of mountain bike using you as a pillow.

Then there are days when you are dialled in and everything feels good.
…And then you meet the ground…

ImageLuge at Mt Stromlo did a number on me this dayImage
I bruised my patella, tore some ligaments and got some nice gravel rashImageAn attempt at a “wicked” jump at the end of my first CORC XC race saw me come off at speed and smash into the ground.  Lots of gravel rash from my feet to shoulder but the best was yet to come.ImageA Grade 2 tear in my pectorals major and a few weeks of sling and painkiller action to come.

Currently I’m off the bike for a few weeks while my chest and shoulder heals.  It’s a huge let down considering the amount of training I’ve been doing in the past couple of months.  I’m faster and fitter on the bike than I have been before and now I have no choice but to not ride or risk further injury and time off the bike.

I’m hoping I will be back on the bike in time for the next CORC XC race in early May, but only time will tell.

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