If tackling a task for the first time in many years like driving a manual car, swimming freestyle and solving
a Rubik’s cube are all like riding a bike, then what is riding a bike after a long time?
With TK in NZ and the little ones with big sister in
Newcastle, there was just Sutchy and me for ten days. When my brother, Stephen arrived I suggested
we train for a ride to Mareeba along the Rail Trail, a round trip of 70
kilometres.
I convinced them to do a reccy ride to Rocky Creek the
following day. I was feeling fantastic having just kicked the flu after three days in bed.
They were in.
The Atherton Rail Trail is a compact dirt track restored
following the removal of the railway line between Atherton and Mareeba in the
1980s. I’d ridden to Tolga before and knew
the track was in good nick. The 26 km
round trip to Rocky Creek, past blueberry and potato crops, along the
irrigation channel and through the bush would be a great start to Sutchy’s and
my holiday. He had held the fort while I was sick – mediating
the little ones’ fights, doing the housework and walking the dogs. I wanted to spend some quality time with him
doing what he loved.
That I hadn’t
ridden for 12 months and that I had just battled the flu were minor
concerns. I knew endorphins would kick
in and get me there and back.
Riding a bike is like riding a bike.
We left at 8.45 in perfect conditions. The baby blue sky and gentle tail wind
heralded a perfect day. We reached Rocky
Creek in 28 minutes.
“Let’s ride to Walkamin,” I said after a drink.
The endorphins were coursing and even if I
was bike-unfit, the worst I could expect tomorrow was pleasantly aching quads
and palm muscles and perhaps a tightness across my shoulders. Stephen and Sutchy expressed some concerns
about my health, but I was having none of it.
I whipped out my phone and Googled the distance, six
ks, to support my argument for another reccy for our Mareeba trip.
"I feel fantastic.”
“Mum, you won’t when it’s over.”
“Okay,” said Stephen in a flat voice.
A reccy is a good thing providing it’s not done on the back
of another reccy.
Soon after leaving Rocky Creek, we encountered a minor obstacle;
the track to Walkamin was sand. An
internet search that night revealed the track from Rocky Creek is due for
upgrade!
Relaxing under the Rocky Creek bridge |
A potato crop out of Rocky Creek. |
Crossing the irrigation channel |
An hour after leaving Rocky Creek, we made it to Walkamin, a
quaint little community with a population of
630, a corner store, a school, a caravan park, public toilets and tennis courts.
Perfect climate |
I recalled talk in the mid-nineties Walkamin came out
tops in research about perfect world climates. It’s a lofty claim since it was damn hot and dry
and the “fact” hadn’t seemed to attract more residents in two decades.
Walkamin public toilet signs. Tee hee! |
I was keen to leave.
The endorphins had run out and so had the food.
“It’s all uphill and into the wind,” said Stephen, again
with a flat voice.
Then I remembered a few real facts.
· The irrigation channel we crossed after Rocky
Creek irrigates farmland between Tolga and
Dimbulah.
Water flows downhill. We were downhill of Tolga therefore ...
We had a tail wind on the ride to Walkamin
therefore …
Wind speeds increase during the day therefore ...
The temperature increases towards midday therefore ...
Wind speeds increase during the day therefore ...
The temperature increases towards midday therefore ...
And riding a bike is not like riding a bike. I’d forgotten about the curse of the bike
seat for females who haven’t ridden long distances for a long time. The sand, head wind, heat and the laborious
climb were nothing compared to the sensation of having a Brazilian done slowly with a cheese
grater.
I couldn't maintain motion and kept stalling.
Repositioning myself on the seat was agony.
I got within 1.5 km of home, a mammoth 36.5 kms and stopped. Stephen had to ride home and return with his ute. The round trip took four and a half hours.
I needed another three days in bed. The Atherton-Mareeba trip was off.
Riding a bike is not like riding a bike.
OM Goodness I must admit I had a good laugh Happy New Year to you and yours XX
ReplyDeleteI laughed too - the Brazilian with a cheese grater is priceless!
ReplyDeleteI can enjoy the new year now my groin has recovered! HNY to you both!
ReplyDelete