BurbleChaz

The Big Dry is showing signs of breaking. It's been pissing down for two days, the roads are covered in puddles and it's cold - around 20C. That's my excuse for staying in yesterday, anyway.

My plans were slightly foiled today when it stopped raining for a bit. My two-hour whiny stream of reasons why I had to stay in did not have the desired effect.

Up towards Moonee Ponds, east towards the zoo, and on around the Capital City Trail. There was one dude who had a large jar of the quickly. I was on his wheel as we approached a short, vicious climb. I had a gear selection malfunction, and my spirit nearly broke as he strolled away. Nil desperandum. I can absorb astonishing amounts of pain when my ego is on the line. Nose to the bars, mouth wide open, and binding carbon to oxygen as fast as I can, I grind him back in. After a few hundred metres, another hill is coming into view when he says 'You can pass, if you like'. How kind. Once I'm past, he turns off. Self.ego++.

Past Dights falls, up to the top of Studley Park Road and back towards the city. Captain Smugness here is happily pottering along the cycle path (ignoring the two roadies who might, hypothetically, have passed on the road), passing people left and right at ridiculous speeds, when I hear the familiar 'pffft'. Front tyre deflates, I stop just before I'm riding on the rim. Fortunately, I have a spare tube. As I fix it, various roadies, recreational cyclist and children with stabilisers pass me. Do. Not. Like.

Bicycle, dismantled

So I took the long route home. 30 miles. 50kms. Two hours. Can't walk any more.Have a sunset.

Yet Another Gravitationally Bound Thermonuclear Reactor.