This morning I left home under clear skies and just enjoyed pedalling off into the dry chilly blackness. About 10km from home the heavens just opened and it rained heavily for around 5km. It was the only sign of the likelihood of rain for the whole day. I had, of course, left my jacket at home and got very wet. Fortunately I had pretty well dried out by the time I got to work.
After a day of battling personfully with the evil MicroFlacid, I pedalled of home into a lovely evening. Only 3k from work the traffic on the Hume stopped. I whizzed up the shoulder at around 40kph past a 5km line of stationary cars. The abuse was amazing. I never even thought of yelling at them when they hurtle past me at 110. I even had the couple of obligatory nitwits who felt the need to move over and block the shoulder as I approached. On each occasion they had to move right up the the car in front in order to do this, making it easy for me to go around them on the other side with no way for them to move back and block me again.
It turned out that there was a late concrete pour on the foundations for the new overpass at Donnybrook and they had to completely stop the traffic to manouvre the trucks in and out. The abuse at the workers was equally brilliant.
From there I had a great run with only a trickle of traffic coming by. When I was nearly home I came across a booze bus stopping all traffic in both directions. I was nearly going to coast through when the copper called out, "Oi, you too!". They had a great time joking about drink cycling. Of course, I'd never do such a thing. That would be stupid.
I got home to find that my son's friend was waiting to be picked up by his mother. She finally arrived 40 minutes later to tell us that she'd been held up at the toad works and had seen me pedal by. That's one for the record books. I beat a car over 50km on 110kph roads by 40 minutes. I must be getting faster.
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1 comments:
See, the idea of a long, winding, pleasant ride always warms we to the idea of one day returning to Kilmore.
Then I remember the car culture.
Is it wrong that picturing the spontaneous combustion of those motorists as you swung around their driver's side brings a big fat smile to my face?
As a side note... you ride up Pretty Sally? Geez, my car (back when i had one) barely made it up there. Reading back through your blog I find I agree with the reasoning behind your choice of name even more. There really is always someone who makes you look/feel puny. Consider my ego officially deflated.
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