Epic Ride

I’m pretty pleased with myself. Given the calorific indiscretions of yesterday, I was determined to do the right thing today. I was up at six. Two mugs of coffee and a Carman’s Oaty Bar for breakfast and off to the pool. I was in the water just after a quarter to eight. I had the pool to myself until after nine. By four minutes to ten I had completed 92 lengths without stopping. Slow and steady. About 6,000 kJ, I estimate.

Then I rode down to Bongaree to visit the library. I called in to talk to Joe at the bike shop, and bought a pump. By then it was lunch time. A steak and kidney pie and Coke Zero from the family bakery in Bongaree. Then I had to work that off, so I set out on the epic ride mapped out below.

I stopped for a walk at Buckley’s Hole, but was disappointed to find the lagoon was dry and there were council workers at the bird hide. No birds. So it didn’t matter I hadn’t taken my good cameras with me.

It seemed a long ride, Despite the electric assist, my legs are telling me they did their fair share of the work. By the time I arrived home just after two, both I and the battery were almost exhausted. But I was not in pain, I noted with some surprise.

There is no way I could have done this a month or so ago. When I recall how I fared on my first ride on this bike, and how tired and sore I was after, I get a good idea of how far I’ve come. It is very encouraging.

There is an underpass beneath the Bribie bridge, for pedestrians and cyclists. It is very interesting because it takes you down below sea level. Joe was telling me there was a major stuff-up in construction because the contractor did not use the specified concrete. The result was porous and the subway filled with water. It had to be dug out and done again. That explains all the work that was going on that I wondered about every time I drove over the bridge.

The roundabout at Bellara is the scariest place for an old codger on a bicycle. I shan’t go that way again. Motorists seem to lose all courtesy on roundabouts. Though some are bastards anywhere on the road. Especially those with ‘P’ plates. I quickly cut back to the cycle path and decided not to ride the roads again if I could avoid it.

Bongaree Jetty
Plenty of places to rest.

Author: Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

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