When Rob Upton walks into the new Broulee Brewhouse, he knows all the service staff at the counter. They were students at Broulee Primary School when he was employed as a cleaner, or he serviced their cars as the Tomakin servo mechanic. Or he's repaired their bike-chain or inner-tube at the bike shop he now runs from the spare room in his house.
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To them he is just Rob from Smith Street, Rob the ex-cleaner, Rob who - as a 50-year-old - used to skate the bowl on Heath Street with them. Ordinary Rob.
Rob remembers hitting golf balls from his front fence down into the Broulee surf as a kid. Now he would have to chip over two rows of houses to hit the waves.
The Rob's of Australian towns are the fabric of their community. They know the history of their place because they know the locals. They've witnessed progress - from a street to a neighbourhood; then a village, then a town. But they have their own story; there is more to Rob.
Rob chatted to me on the back patio of the house he grew up in as if I were a Broulee local, or a close mate. We sat around the same blue wooden outdoor furniture Rob sat around on the day he met his wife at the palm tree in the street out the front of his home. It was just days before his 21st birthday. The year was 1979.
His mind drufts to a bygone era.
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Thighs screaming, head tucked aerodynamically above the handlebars, Rob Upton pelts at 55 kilometres per hour down Coronation Drive in Broulee.
He is training for the 2013 world cycling championships. He has already won 13 pro and elite medals, and been crowned 1998 world points race champion.
As he passes the North Broulee toilet block, at the intersection with Train Street, a driver searching for a surf break and a parking spot suddenly finds the latter, swerving unexpectedly. Rob didn't have a chance.
"That was the last time I rode a road bike," Rob told me.
When he was three and a half, Rob's dad - who himself represented Australia in cycling - did up an old bike found under a neighbours' deck. From an early age, Rob only knew one pace: fast.
As a teenager, he dominated every cycling event he competed in. In 1982 he represented Australia at the Brisbane Commonwealth Games, before migrating to Holland and Belgium in 1984 to compete against the best cyclists in the world. The prevalence of drugs in the sport left him jaded and, despite his love for the racing, he returned home from Europe. He hung up the cleats.
The jerseys and bike frames from his past were stowed away in the spare room of Rob's house, along with trinkets and trophies he had collected over the years. It's a pool room to make Darryl Kerrigan blush.
"That bike frame came second in the Giro D'Italia in the 60s," Rob said, as he pointed to one of six bike frames mounted on the wall.
The glass display cabinet overflowed with cycling trophies; an entire shelf is full of world championship medals, formerly stored in a cardboard box.
Rob thought his career was over when he gave up cycling in the 80s. However, he would need to clear more space in the pool room.
Rob had just turned 33 when a new masters category for over-35s was created. He couldn't resist. He began training, riding 700 kilometres a week while also working fulltime.
Two years later, Rob crushed everyone in the Masters category, and again began racing at the elite level.
"I had this new-found enthusiasm and I hadn't worn myself out like those guys I was competing against," he said.
In 1995 he won his first Australian masters championship. "And from that point, it was just 'lets go'," he said.
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In 1997 he won two bronze medals at the world championships. Bronze again in 1998. Two silvers in 1999, losing to a team mate of Lance Armstrong. In 1999 he won the southern hemisphere road championship. He was in career best form. Unexpectedly, as a 40-year-old, he was in the squad for the Sydney Olympics. While he helped with qualifying - the ride he is most proud of in his career - he didn't compete at the games, and took 2000 off.
In 2001 he returned to the saddle, winning two world championship silvers and a bronze again in 2002.
That was when he crashed at the world championships - broke some ribs and punctured a lung. Unable to ride, he began work at Tomakin service station.
But the passion couldn't be reigned in.
The world championships came to Australia in 2007, 08 and 09. Rob was 50.
In 2009, he smashed the world record for the 2000 metres, but still finished second.
He was dominant and fast. At least until that fateful day in April where his bike, and his right side, were written off.
Bulldozing into the surfer's car broke nearly all the ribs on Rob's right side. His shoulder was shattered, his arm dangled by the skin. A shoulder reconstruction left his right arm constantly numb.
"It's ruined my golf, I can't feel the handlebars on a bike, I can't surf," he said.
"The three things I really love - it took those away."
He suffered psychological effects too. His favourite colour miraculously changed from purple to lime green; his favourite foods all switched overnight; his ability to spell deteriorated and he suffers short-term memory loss, forgetting the faces and names of his friends.
As he was lying on the operation table in the emergency department moments after his accident, he looked up at his wife Donna and said "I want to buy a sandman panel van".
And so began the next phase of Rob's life - cars.
Rob's earliest memory is hearing the clunk of a spanner and whirring block and tackle pulling the engine out as his dad - a mechanic - worked on a car in the garage.
"Cars are fun," he said, the inflection in his voice suggesting the underlying 'but' that never comes. But cycling...
In his 20s cars were a distraction from cycling - so too, as Rob's dad thought - was golf; Rob formerly played off a three handicap. With his cycling career now over, Rob re-found his passion for cars.
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In July 2019, he became president of the Classic & Vintage Motor Club of Eurobodalla.
"I had the absolute worst timing," he said. "Bushfires and COVID. It's been crazy."
During the Black Summer Bushfires, one of the club's more than 600 members lost 32 cars. Many members lost everything except the car they fled in.
"Life gives you stuff and takes it away," Rob said.
If life hadn't already taken enough away, in the latter stages of 2017, Rob developed chronic lymphocytic leukemia - "I'll die with it, but not from it" - and in February 2020 suffered a heart attack and received a stent in Canberra hospital.
Life has thrown a few flat-tyres, and yet Rob remains pumped up and lively. "I can't complain," he said. "I've got a great life. Everything I have is what I wanted, and I don't want anything else."
As he shared his life's journey, one story after another bubbled out of Rob.
"We didn't have time to talk about surfing with nine foot dolphins at Broulee," Rob said.
"Or the time I spoke to Prince Charles and shook his hand on George Street when he toured Australia in 1980.
"Or the time I played golf with Kerry Packer at the Australian golf club."
He spends his days running Rob's Bicycle Repairs from his home in Broulee. It started on the suggestion of Rob's doctor after he suffered his crash.
"You are already fixing everyone's bikes," the doctor said; "Why don't you make a business out of it?"
But for Rob it was never about the business.
I asked him why he runs the shop, and he replied instantly: "The people. The customers. People are a customer once and a friend after that."
"It's helped me meet everyone in my town.
"I stay open for people. I am open every day except Wednesday.
"I've had people turn up at my bike shop once for a tube and they've become lifelong friends."
Rob walked me out to the street; he promised all his neighbours he would put their bins out while they're holidaying.
"Come back any time," he called over his shoulder. Just ordinary Rob from Smith street.