BurbleChaz

Yesterday, after a frankly disastrous trip to Prahran Market, with a recovery via Vic Market (better meat for a third of the price), we were starting to run out of usable day. The Sensible Cyclist couldn't be persuaded to come and play, but I was allowed out. I threw the bike in the back of the car and headed down to the You Yangs. I hadn't been there for a few months, and I was looking forward to a change of scenery.

I parked at the bottom, put the bike back together and started on the long climb around Great Circle Drive to the Stockyards. It's about 200m in five kilometers. Except that four of those kilometers are flat or downhill. The climb is short and vicious. I dialled in the pain and started turning the crank over with sheer will-power. I stopped at the top and took a few pictures. Not true, actually. I stopped at the top, realised that 'd left the muesli bars at home, burst into tears and then took some pictures.

I saw this through a mist of red

Trees, with view

Once my vision returned, I started the descent. The road surface is nasty. It consists of rough washboard bumps covered in loose sand. The grip is terrible and the ride is painful. You can get some idea of how steep it is from the picture below. I let gravity take charge for the next three sections. On the first one, I didn't brake because I didn't need to. 25mph. On the middle one, I didn't brake because I didn't want to. 30mph. On the final section, long and steep with a brisk tailwind, I didn't brake because I was scared to. The world went into fast-forward. At 35mph the washboard feels smooth. I was hitting the top of every tenth one. Gentle curves become horrifyingly sharp. At 40mph I think I closed my eyes. The wheels were rarely touching the ground, and the bike's trajectory bore little relation to it's heading. After a mile or so, the road levelled out and sanity returned. 41.8mph. Fastest ever, and likely to remain so.

Plummet.

I got back to the car in 38 minutes. Not bad for eight miles over a mountain.

After texting home, I headed down to the Western Plantation for a quick blat round before the sun set. I also wanted to have a play on the new banks and berms that have been built there. I was somewhat disgruntled to discover that the playground is being used as a campsite for a dog-sledding competition. No, people, Alaska is ten thousand miles *that* way. Not pleased. And do you think they're really going to scoop all the poop? Unhappy.

Deep in the trails I was pottering gently along at a reasonable speed whan I saw something interesting in the trees. I took my eyes off the track for a second (it was some sort of epiphyte, I think), only to be forcibly reminded of the need to keep ones eyes on the track as my right hand slammed into a tree. There's no substitute for idiocy.