Besides being attacked by killer mushrooms, I had a lovely ride yesterday. I parked at the top of Lysterfield Park, hammered down Red Gum Trail and was somewhat surprised by a fallen tree across a fast bit. I held it all together, picked an alternate line, followed some tyre marks, saw a short cut, went for it and realised why no-one else had tried it. A bone-jarring landing from a three-foot drop-off with no preparation was quite enough to dispel any remaining bravado.
I did Middle Trail with a little less enthusiasm, crossed over at Native Track onto Buckle Trail, and headed for the lower car park. Despite nearly being digested by wild saprophytes, I made it to the bottom, crossed the dam and climbed Upper Blair Witch and Hug trails to the car park. The sun was getting low, so I didn't stop for long to chat to this chap:
Less than two metres from the trail
I decided to have a quick hack around the competition trail to get some more climbing in. I hammered up to the mountain top, and was just starting the fast traverse out when my path was obstructed by another fallen tree.
Having negotiated lots of these over the last few sessions, my confidence was high. I approached with moderate speed, hefted the front wheel over, landed the freshly-lubricated chain ring on the log and fell over sideways. It happened in slow motion. Leg down, miss log, slide off saddle, still can't touch, hit ground, collabse under bike. Poot.
The bike was fine. For the next few days, however, I shall bear the Mark of the Idiot:
Well, I won't try that again. For a while.