Bikepacking Kinkuna

One of my favourite spot in the whole world is at my door step. The Kinkuna section of Burrum Coast National Park is twenty six kilometres from home. This makes it the perfect location for a bike packing trip.

What started out as a three to four day mini adventure ended with at least one night of bliss away from the rat race. Tucked in behind the sand dunes the Coral Sea's waves whispered me to sleep after a solid day's pedalling.

I had spent the few days prior to this trip modifying the mountain bike to carry a little extra along the way. The Blackburn Outpost Cages bound to the forks with sturdy stainless hose clamps allowed me to carry two litre bottles up front. The cheap department store bottle cages clamped to the seat stays to carry one litre bottles at the rear.

I had purchased some bikepacking gear well before Christmas last year but had never used it. That was a Blackburn Outpost Handlebar Roll, a Azur Half Framebag and an Azur eight litre Seat Pack. I had also purchased a hammock from FE Active to try. The idea of hammock camping has had my interest for a while now, so it was the perfect time to try it out.

Leaving mid morning, the wind had already started to blow. I held the trip over from the previous week for the same problem. The weather had been perfect until it was the day to leave. It's always the way.

I had found some back roads and tracks through scrub behind my neighbourhood so I used these to make my way South East toward Kinkuna.

This was the first biking trip that I had undertaken in ages so I was pumped and rearing to go. I had no intentions of going fast, and I just wanted to take in the ambience of the freedom a ride like this gives.

The plan was three to four nights, making my way down through the Kinkuna section of the National Park. From there I would head further south to Burrum Pt Camp Grounds. From there I would make a decision to either head north via the way I had come, or head west to Childers and across to Cordalba State Forest.

So back to the back roads... I continued on gravel for the first tenor so kilometres. But it wasn't long before I was back on the bitumen. The mountain bike tyres hummed on the black top with a kind of enjoyment. I had clamped some cages to the front forks and the seat stays for extra water. The new gear seemed to be hanging in very well, so all was going to plan.

Out near Coonar now I turned off and began to follow Palm Beach Road. I am well aware of the sand mine out this way, so I was cautious of the heavy vehicle that frequents this section of road. It is only a small section of bitumen at the beginning and soon turns into gravel.

The coastal sand was becoming apparent now as there were deep pockets of loose sandy gravel that grabbed the front and rear wheels from time to time. It wasn't a threat to staying upright, but did cause some extra unexpected resistance to pedalling.

A few trucks past me in both directions, but were courteous. They slowed down and gave me plenty of room. The slowing down also helped not get covered in talcum powder like dust that covers the road.

Not much further and I was at the main entrance to the National Park, although the road I was cuts through the park, it is more of the access road to the real gem.

I hadn't been out here for ages and this was the first time on a bike. Last time I was out in the four wheel drive the road was solid with little sand covering the track. As I entered it appeared to be no different. But, it wasn't long before I encountered small pockets of sand filled holes. One that did force me to lose balance. I didn't come off, but I did get some good scrapes up one leg from the flat pedals I had fitted, fitted for this very reason, getting my foot to the ground quickly.

As I spied up ahead I could see the solid bits of track, so meandering across the road from side to side helped alleviate any further shocks...until...

Now, I only had around a kilometre to go to the camp site, but this was certainly the hardest section of the track. All the recent rain we had had helped wash sand from the nearby dunes down onto the track. There was no solid track to filter out anymore, only boot deep loose sand. There was no way of riding through it, not on a mountain bike.I have a friend who warned me, stating a fat bike was better. But I don't have a fat bike, and I was here now.

Walking was the only way through. Each step sinking deep into the soft sand whilst struggling with the front wheel sinking in as well. This made it extremely difficult to push the bike through. On I pushed, and then I'd rest, push, then rest, and so on until I saw the sign I was longing for, Camping 600 mt. This entrance to camp site would be much easier as it has timber laid under the sand to help with traction. Some reprieve, a rest...

But this wasn't so, the rain and strong winds had helped cover the timber planks well beneath deep sand. Six hundred metres more of drudging through sand. Push, sink, rest, the pattern continued.

Eventually I did make it. My plan was to take my time and look for a decent site to set up the hammock. I was so knackered that I took the first site I saw. Between two trees, right on the edge of the dunes with an outlook to die for...

I emptied some kit of the bike, made a coffee and began to heat up some lunch. It was 3:30 pm by now and I was starving. I had been experimenting with my own home made dehydrated foods, so as my lunch re-hydrated in hot water I began to set up the hammock. Unfortunately by now the wind had really began to rip in from the water, and blowing the hammock out like a parachute, I had to move. Even attempting to put a tarp up to help block the wind proved nigh impossible.

I walked back along the track I had entered on the way in. I was down behind the dunes here and the wind was merely a refreshing breeze at best. I found a suitable spot in a thicket of coastal scrub and began hauling all my gear back. All I wanted to do was eat and rest, blurgh!!!

It didn't take that long, and I was set up and resting peacefully as the evening set in. Lunch turned to dinner and the hip flask of brandy was brought out to celebrate my first day's ride...

The next day's plan was to continue through the Park southward. This would take through the heart of the Kinkuna section and bring me out onto Woodgate Road. I would then fill up some water bottles and make my way through to Burrum Point where there is a fantastic camping area. Then after that I would work my way west for Childers and make my way home through Cordalba State Forest.

Unfortunately, like a lot of my trips, this did not go to plan. During the night the announcement was made that due to Coronavirus that all camping areas, and the vast majority of National Parks and State Forests would be closed. This put a bee in my bonnet, I really wanted to do this. But what can you do. I did umm and ahh over whether to continue, surely one lonely figure on a bicycle wouldn't attract too much attention. But I didn't.

After a few slurps of brandy and a final cuppa I headed off to bed for my first time camping in a hammock. The hammock was a reasonably cheap one purchased off Amazon. It was a warm night with a slight cool breeze, just enough to stop me sweating and keep me comfortable. I fell asleep rather quickly under the stars as I didn't bother putting the tarp up over me.

It was around 11.00 pm when some dickheads thought it was the perfect time to go four wheel driving with their spot lights ablaze. One vehicle broke down right near where I was camped and they started to attempt to fix it, all lights on, yelling and making a right ruckus, not cool at all. I called out to keep it down but after that they got the heap of shit they were driving going and revved off into the night.

After a few other late night passes by other vehicles the night's sleep was not great. The morning came around way too soon and I was groggy from the bad night. Up and water on for a much needed double strength coffee I started to slowly pack up gear that wasn't needed in preparation the ride home.

Coffee, well make that two, went down a treat along with some cereal bars and I finished getting packed up and loaded. Now began the trudging trip back through the soft sand. I was held up a few times by some four wheel drives getting bogged. Why people don't know by now that tyre pressure is paramount through sand I don't know. Anyway I continued on stopping regularly for a rest. The bad night's sleep was taking it's toll and I hadn't even got out of the Park yet. At least the traffic was to a minimal. The morons from the night before were either still laid up or had left. This was a good thing, I can only imagine, by the way they were driving what I would have had to encounter.

Finally out of the sand and back on solid gravel the trip became a lot easier and less tiring. I was making my way reluctantly home. 

All in all, even though it was a small adventure, it was an adventure after all. It was great to get out and ride this section and one day soon I hope to retry it, hopefully with no CoVid 19 around.

In the end these trips are what they are. You can either enjoy them or hate them. No matter what happens on a trip I count it as part of the adventure and it all adds to the experience.

Cheers guys...

You can check out the video here...

Hiking Bingera National Park

After spending nearly four weeks isolated in the caravan away from the family as they were still at work and school, and yet another two weeks in isolation after that I was going stir crazy. I needed an out, an escape. Just some fresh air and to see the stars overhead

I had been riding every day but this alone was not enough, after all I couldn't continually ride all day. On one particular ride I went via some back roads to find a back way in a little National Park not far from my home. As most popular parks were closed, along with their comping grounds, it was great to find one that wasn't on the closed list. Actually it wasn't on any list at all, even the Queensland Parks and Wildlife's website.

It had been years since I had hiked. Before marriage and children in my younger days it was a regular thing to do. But as I got older it seemed to fade away sadly. I had been planning on getting back into it for sometime now as another extension of my love for the outdoors. But it never seemed to eventuate. With the exception of an over night stint into Cordalba State Forest just prior to Chemoradiation Therapy some months back, it hadn't happened.

As I am going to be off the bike for some months due to the recovery, and nature, of my surgery hiking has seemed like the perfect thing to get back into. The surgery the perfect excuse for me to take the plunge once again.

After investigating our little nearby National Park it was then I decided to hike for a couple of days, rather than bike pack. It wasn't going to be massive, it was to any particular destination, it was merely to get out in the fresh air, breath deeply and enjoy the peace of nature one last time before heading to hospital for my surgery. So that is what I did, packed the pack, and off I trotted.

It was around 12.00 pm when my wife dropped me off at the entrance to the Park off Goodwood Road. We kissed and waved our goodbyes as I turned and set off into the scrub. Immediately a calm come over me. The bush has a way of doing that. I also noticed how quiet it was, so close the main road, yet so quiet, so tranquil. I suppose the whole Covid fiasco had a part in this as well, as traffic was at a minimum.

Now inside the shade of the Park a cool south easterly breeze blew gently. I was met with the stunning sight of banksias and grass trees. The smell of eucalypt flooded the air and following the rugged four wheel drive track it was easy to forget the past few weeks.

My aim for the day was to follow a myriad of tracks and trails until I came to Mahogony Creek. From here I was looking for a power line maintenance trail that would lead me south to Folleys Road.

After following a few four wheel drive trails and what appeared to be forestry roads I came out into a clearing. It was here I thought that I would meet up with the power line trail but it wasn't. Instead it was a forestry road that divided Bingera National Park and Elliott State Forest.

I was a little disorientated when I come out here and I was glad at this stage I had brought my compass along. After searching Google Maps and consulting with my compass I was able to find a water access trail that would lead me in the direction of Mahogany Creek.

I turned up the access trail and followed it for a couple of kilometres. Large weeds grew tall as the trail hadn't been used much. Amongst the tall weeds Orb spiders, in the droves, had stretched their fishing line like webs across the trail. Upon exit I felt like a ball of fairy floss on a stick.

I came out onto another overgrown and little used forestry road. It again divined the hoop pines of the state forest and the natural bush land the national park. There were also several roads leading of this point. There was a selection of ways I could go. It was only early so after checking maps and compass yet again I opted for the longer, more scenic route. Actually I had no idea where I was going, as I had never been out here before.

I was heading south west at this stage and the forestry road disappeared amongst tall grass that was at least six foot tall. I was able to spy the narrow tracks through the grass and thought to myself, "I hope there is no snakes in there". I took a deep breath, stomped as loud as I could and waved my trekking pole around, not just for the snakes, but for more of the Orb Spiders' sticky traps that awaited me.

The tall grass continued for around five hundred meters or so. It came out into a shady clearing still diving the forest from the park. It eventually led onto a more regularly used trail which swung to the south east. I found a small clearing among scrub and jostled through onto another trail leading in the direction I wanted.

A sandy trail now laid the path for where I wanted to go. Coming out onto other cross roads along the way, I felt like I was zig-zagging this way and that to get to where I wanted to go. Now heading north I was on my final leg for the day. I hadn't found the power line track, but it wasn't long before I came across the crystal clear, cool and shaded waters of Mahogany Creek as it crossed the road.

There were several good camp sites to choose from but as the scrub was quite thick they were all virtually on the side of the road. I wanted to light a fire, and being on the side of the road, no matter how quiet they are was not something I wanted to do.

I spied around and found the remnants of an old track. I followed it along for around three hundred meters and found two perfect tress, shade and a nicely raised small clearing just prefect for a fire. So I set about setting up the hammock and tarp and collecting fire wood. As it wasn't too far from the creek I headed down and collected some fresh water.

I got the fire ready but decided not to light it until dark. On went my small homemade alcohol stove and I was shortly sitting back in my chair enjoying a much needed coffee and a protein bar. Night came, the fire now lit, dinner scoffed down and a peaceful night sitting in the flames glow as I sipped a hot tea and some McAlisters Single Malt was to follow before turning in.

The next morning started early. The night's sleep was a bit rough and broken due to what seemed to be farm machinery in the distance echoing through the night air. With the early morning's sun streaming through a gap between my tarp and hammock I decided it was the perfect time for coffee.

I was trying a new blend of coffee bag on this trip, Robert Timms Golden Columbian Style. It's not a bad drop and had the approval of this particular coffee snob. A cereal bar for breakfast and I slowly set about breaking down camp in preparation for this days hike.

This day was like the previous, I had no particular plan, just a rough idea of where I wanted to go and the direction I wanted to head. It was around 9.00 am when I finally started walking and the morning's air was still and quite humid.

Down across the creek and up a small hill then westward bound heading for the power line track. I thought that it wold take some time to get to this track, but I was there in a relatively short time. The autumn sun of Queensland beating down it was warming up fast. Now heading in a southerly direction the landscape was open with little shade. A slight south easterly had begun to blow a little earlier cooling things down. But now any breeze there was was thwarted by the thick shrubbery on my eastern side.

The power line track had mixed obstacles along it's path. Long grass, muddy semi dried water holes and of course the sun. I stopped several times to rest and take in some lovely views of native flora and bird life along the way. I played cat and mouse with a pheasant coucal trying to snap a photo. But as I walked one way to catch up with it, it would fly back to the original position near the track. I gave up and took a photo of a butterfly on a banksia flower. It was much easier to tame.

Onward it wasn't long before I came to Mahogany Creek once again. The previous crossing was shallow, only boot deep and was easier to navigate across. This crossing however, was much deeper. I dropped my pack on the ground and went in search for an easier crossing. Both sides of the crossing were deep water holes better suited for a canoe rather than a hiker attempting to keep his feet dry.

I went back to my original spot on the track and had resigned myself to obtaining wet boots and socks. At the last minute I remembered my thongs. Off went the boots and socks and on went the pluggas and began entering the clear cool water. It ended up around knee deep and was refreshing to say the least. My feet had been becoming a little sore over the past kilometre and it was lovely to stand in the middle and let the cool water continue it's soothing effect.

Over the other side I decided to side in some shade that I found. A coolish, of sorts, Staminade was guzzled down, along with a couple of protein bars. As I drank and ate my feet dried and it wasn't long before the boots were back on and I was onward once again.

As I climbed up out of the creek crossing the countryside had become more open, a little hotter and more undulating. My feet began hurting a little more and my left knee began to ache. Yes I know, I'm a sook. 

I pressed on until about 3.30 pm and with around ten kilometres under my belt for they day I found a lovely shady little spot with two perfect trees for a hammock. I wasn't in any hurry. I was after all, just out to get some freedom after such a long time in isolation.

I set the hammock up and realised that I was only approximately four hundred meters north of Folleys Road, and around one hundred meters where I had planned to turn back into the enclosure of the Park once again. It didn't worry me and I settled back for a cuppa and another snack.

I decided to off the boots and socks, get changed out f my sweaty clothes and sit back for the evening to enjoy the setting sun. Looking down I notice a lump on my left big toe. It was a blister of a reasonable size. I then looked down at me left heal where my foot had been aching, and there it was, a blister almost the size of a small chicken's egg.

I had surgery in a week. I knew that if I was to continue the next day the blister would most likely pop. This would then be an open wound and could quite possibly jeopardise surgery. I only had another nine kilometres to hike the following day but I didn't want to take the chance. This would be my last day's hiking.

As I was so close to Folleys Road and there was vehicle access to where I was, I organised my wife to drive out the next morning to pick me up. After all I had had a great couple of days and a fantastic way to celebrate the Anzac long weekend.

I didn't light a fire this night as I was in sight of nearby farms. I could have possibly with no drama, but being not far from the road and close to farms I didn't want to attract any attention. I settled back, enjoyed the sunset and settled in for the night. It was a much more peaceful night's sleep than the night before. It was much quieter and only the crickets and night birds kept me company. Although I could hear kangaroos squabbling through the scrub at night.

The next morning I wasn't in a hurry, I had a lift after all. It wasn't long before my wife arrived and I had everything thrown into the back of the Pajero. I didn't even have coffee...

Cheers guys... 

You can check out the video, Part #1 here and Part #2 here

Back Home In Recovery Mode

Well it's been a topsy turvy few weeks. I have finally had my surgery and can now get down to recovering and planning my next adventures.

I had so much planned for this year. I was going to re-do my trip that I didn't get to finish last year. I so wanted to get the chance to see the Flinders Ranges and Conarvon Gorge by bike. Not to forget pedalling along the Murray.

But it just goes to show how things can change in the blink of an eye. This time last year I was bike touring southward enjoying myself and looking forward to the adventure to come. When I fell unwell in Sydney and returned home who would have thought that Cancer was the outcome.

It was a long six months. I did the bowel screening test in early July 2019, but unfortunately when it returned positive there was a failure at my GP's end to contact me about it. Come November 2019 when passing blood became very bad I chased it up.

Since that day I haven't had a chance to catch my breath. A specialist met with me on December 8 2019 and bamo!!! Here it is, just six months later and I am recovering from Rectal and Pelvic Cancer surgery.

The surgery I had was a Robotic Abdominoperineal Resection. Essential my rectum, sphincter and anus has been removed. The Colon, or lower bowel, has been redirected and now protrudes from my abdominal wall just to the left of my naval. This is a stoma, and his name is Mini Me. Apparently it is customary to name your stoma when you end up with one. Basically now my arse is on my belly, this is what is jokingly known as a "front bum".

With the stoma, which is permanent in my case, is the use of a colostomy, or ostomy bag. I now shit in a bag folks, how delightful. It is something that I am still coming to terms with.

As part of the redirection my anus is no longer there between my butt cheeks. Yep, it's gone, I have literally kissed my arse goodbye. To close the wound over, my butt cheeks have been pretty much sewn together. This is known as a Ken or Barbie butt, depending on your sex. To be honest, it's quite painful, especially to sit, and it feels like one gigantic, never ending wedgie. Mine is healing exceptionally well in comparison to other stories I have read, so I count my blessings on that.

All in all my entire healing process is going extremely well. I shouldn't complain, although some days I find my self doing only this. It is still difficult to see the bike yet with so much cloud, or uncertainty still around. I know things will improve.

On the other hand, the operation was a complete success, but not after it's own dramas. It appears that I had a severe allergic reaction to one of the anaesthetic drugs used. Not long after I was knocked out I went into encephalitic shock. For two hours the anaesthetist, surgeon and team tried to stabalise me. The longer it took, the more chance that my surgery wouldn't be done that day. I was almost flat lining when I began to stabalise. If this hadn't of  happened when it did, their next step was to begin resuscitation. To cut a long story short, what was to be a four to five hour procedure ended up being a ten hour one.

The marvellous team finished around midnight and I was kept sedated in ICU until the next morning. I was a woken by some balding man trying to pull a tube out of my throat. I was completely oblivious to what had happened, and it wasn't until I came to and my surgeon came to see me that I was aware of it. I suppose if something bad is going to happen, it's best to be knocked out.

Well I survived, and not only that like I stated, my surgery was a complete success. I can now proudly say that I am one hundred percent cancer free, a fifteen percent chance of this happening. I beat the odds. The Pelvic cancer was a big concern as it is difficult to operate on in that area, hence the robot. When my bloods and biopsy came back that had noticed that they had removed more lymph nodes that were possibly effected by cancer.

So I live to tell the story of how I beat cancer. Of course I had a of help along the way. The Chemoradition Therapy prior to the operation helped in a big way. It helped shrink the cancer and prevented it from spreading. I had a marvellous specialist who is at the top in his field, and the staff of the hospital, and Stoma Nurses who have helped prepare me for life in the real world.

Radiation Therapy will not be needed, but it is unsure if I will need further Chemotherapy. I hope not, it's not something that I want to tackle again.

So I sit here now blogging as I grimace. It's time to get off my arse, or what's left of it...lol

Cheers guys, and I hope to blog more regularly.

Strange Days Indeed

These are certainly strange times. It's hard to make what to think of it. Here in Australia we are locked down and most of our daily avenues are halted. But riding remains...

Now for those that do follow this blog, yes it's been a while. The reason is that I have been diagnosed with Rectal Cancer and Cancer in the Pelvis. This has put a struggle on my day to day life. But now all my Chemoradiation is finished and I have some energy, I am back on my bike. Only short rides, but on the bike none the less.

I am in lock down at present. I have isolated myself from the rest of the family for the next few weeks. My operation is soon and my wife has just finished work for the school holidays. As she has been in contact with others she is a high risk to me, for the next two weeks at least. So I am in my little fifteen foot camper trailer. Riding is essential at the moment, not just for weight loss which is required for surgery, but for my mental well being.

Following is an account of a ride the other day. Unfortunately there is no camping or multi days involved. But it was a great ride, and was my greatest distance that I have tackled in a long time.

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It was fantastic to get out and explore some back roads yet again. I know at these times we can't travel far, but we can certainly make the most of it to explore our surrounding area.

I wanted to find a different way around a favourite road route of mine, so I headed south to see what I could find. Still working on my fitness I wanted to go beyond my usual thirty kilometres.

I headed south out of town past the airport and through Kensington Estate. From there I pedalled down Woodward Rd, gravel of course, onto Claytons Rd. Instead of turning east onto Wises Rd I continued South East onto Gillies Creek Rd, somewhere new.

It was all gravel now with the exception of a few cane line crossings that had token bitumen either side. I wanted to work my way across to Gordons Rd, so opted to turn east onto Lakeview Dr. Being a Drive it should be all good. After all "Drives" are in nice acreage estates, and always go all the way through.

Well, what began a drive ended as private property several kilometres later. There was nothing else to do but turn around and head back to Wises Rd. It wasn't null and void though, I did find some interesting roads that may, or may not, lead into Bingera National Park...we'll see. That will be a coming day soon on the mountain bike.

Heading north the nor easterly was starting to pick up. It was starting to strain the legs but I know that head winds are just a natural part of riding in Bundaberg. It's hard to escape them around here. We don't have a lot of hills, but we have plenty of head winds.

I stopped along Wises Rd for a breakfast bar. I am currently on a very low calorie diet to loose weight for the surgery soon. 800 Kcals doesn't go far on a big guy like myself, especially when riding.

Snacked up it was time to continue. South again now on Gordons Rd I was in new territory. I had never been down here before. It was absolutely fantastic to be doing this on the bike again. Exploring and seeing much of my area has always been done on a bike. It is not uncommon for me to see a road and think to myself, "I wonder where that goes? Let's find out".

These days are a little different of course. My fitness levels, and energy levels are far from what they once were. I could ride all day once, now it takes me all day to ride.

I was like a dog with it's head out the window of the car, seeing new sights, smelling new smells. No, I didn't cock my leg at every tree I rode past. Empty roads on a new adventure, life is just good.

Two ladies walking towards me gave me a wide berth. I kept thinking, "I have deodorant on", but then remembered our current viral climate. It is easy to forget things when encapsulated in the joy of the ride.

Back onto gravel again I was soon down a few slight declines and then a creek crossing. I saw the "Water Over Road" sign but thought it was just forgotten. But around the bend, there it was. A crystal clear creek almost shin deep over the road.

I originally tried to ride it, but the rock bottom with the 40 mm tyres of the Sutra made it impossible. Ahhh, cool refreshing...wet feet!

Creek crossing done, I was back on the bike and heading for Mahogany Creek Rd, this would take me to Goodwood Rd and onto Coonar Rd.

Once on Coonar Rd I was once again hit by the strong Nor Easter...it was stronger now than before and I felt the pinch in my legs and in my head.

I only brought the one bar with me and my stomach was growling in competition with the rest of my body. I was down to half a bottle of water as well, and my mouth was dry. It doesn't seem all that long ago I could knock out a 100 km ride on an empty stomach on one water bottle. Ahh, how times have changed.

I knew that the route I was taking would see me head north onto Dr Mays Rd. This means the Nor Easter would be in my face all the way along here. Well, pretty much all the way home.

By now I still had 13 km to go. I was starting to struggle. I dropped the front chain ring back to the centre 36 tooth ring and made the gears lighter. I know this slows you down, but it is great for taking the pressure off the legs.

Halfway along Dr Mays Rd I had to stop. I drizzled some of the water I had left into my mouth and swirled it round. Perched on a set of cane tracks I sat with my head down getting a breather. This is a two sided coin. On one side you get your breath back, but on the other it's hard to get the legs working again after stopping. Especially when you're on the verge of bonking.

On the bike again, into the head wind I persisted. Now I could turn west onto Douglas Rd and some get some reprieve from that bloody wind. At least now it was from the side more than the front. Oh yes, had I mentioned that in this brief moment the decided to change to a Northerly. Gotta love riding in Bundy...lol

Now crossing Goodwood Rd again for Thomasens Rd the wind made yet another shift, now coming from the North West. My legs were loosing momentum now, several pedal strokes, then coast a while, pedal, coast, pedal coast. My hands were getting sore and the constant changing position was even more tiring.

I got to the corner of Thomasens Rd and Claytons Sidings Rd, the breeze cool and picking up in strength, I noticed a grassy and shady spot under some macadamia trees. That was it, the bike laid on it's side, I was on my back.

I lay there quietly looking up at the clouds float by. When was the last time you did this? I hadn't dome it for years, ages, I can't remember when. It was serene, and it helped me rest for the final short 6.5 km.

I could have laid there all afternoon, but I needed to get home. Back on the bike yet again, and onto Claytons Rd where the wind had picked up even more. Keeping a light cadence I kept telling myself, "Not far now". I found myself constantly looking at the Garmin to see the distance, but this just plays with your head, and makes what is left seem even longer.

I finally made it home 56 km later. It's not a long ride, and in comparison to what I used to do, it was just a short ride after work. But considering the circumstances, it was the longest ride I had been able to muster in a long time. The cancer and low caloric intake, not to mention my outright lack of fitness, makes it difficult.

But these are the days we live in. We don't live in, or for yesterday, we live today. We do what we can do, how we are able, and when we can. I'm glad in one aspect that the past is gone. Gone are the days of pressure training and trying to improve myself. Gone are the days of feeling inadequate because, "Why can't I go faster?"

Today I just enjoy the ride, it doesn't matter where that ride leads. It doesn't even matter for how long it is.

I am at a stage that bike riding will be out for at least 6 months shortly due to my operation. I just want to make every ride count whilst I can today.

Cheers guys