The grass always seems greener; once
you've eaten it. Since arriving in Melbourne, I look back on the
adventure with more sadness than relief. A week ago I was nearly
incapacitated with regret for not having a normal holiday somewhere
slightly more enjoyable like Asia or the Whitsundays. Even a place
like ah, I don't know, purgatory, would have seemed better at the
time. Knowing that any more riding is a matter of choice rather than
necessity inclines me to remember the highlights, more than the hard
times. Some would call that denial, but I like to think it's best to
focus on the positives.
And to my great relief, the last two
days were all positive. My rest day in Neerim South had been spent
entirely in the cabin not only for the novelty factor. In frequent
Melbourne style, a grey blanket had been thrown over the sky and
being outdoors looked more appealing than it really was from the
comfort of a recliner. I pottered around relishing the space to
potter and I cannot say that I did one single constructive thing for
the day.
After thanking Mick so many times he
thought that was the extent of my conversational skills, I headed off
a little dismayed with the morning drizzle that was dampening my
clothes and my spirits. Only a change of attitude was needed to see
that as a blessing when it acted like a refreshing and cooling mist
during the first 15kms of riding. Even though most of that was done
uphill, I could have ridden up them backwards I was feeling so fresh.
The stretch from Mt. BawBaw to
Powelltown was all state forest and windy enough to prompt Mum to
urge me to take more precaution than usual. The landscape was dense
with trees, but not so cars, and I was left thinking that if Mum was
worried about that road, it was a damn good thing she didn't see some
of the roads I travelled on before. Twenty or so cars passed me at a
respectable speed demonstrating that if I was meant to be hit,
someone would have done it about 100 hills ago.
A slight 1.5km climb was rewarded with
the best descent of the trip as it continued to wind its way through
the forest for 5kms before it ended up at the 'Powelly Pub'. I knew
for sure that anything posing a challenge had already been conquered
and it was time to just cruise along and sing. That would have been
challenging to any wildlife within earshot, but I didn't care. I
could have propelled the bike along through goodwill alone but to
avoid attracting attention performing miracles, I stuck to the more
conventional method of pedalling.
Turns out it was only 54kms to
Millgrove, meaning it would have been two ridiculously short days had
I decided not to have a rest at Neerim South. Family friends Kim and
Jill welcomed me in with open arms, stocked fridge and a spa bath. A
half hour soak in that had me wishing I had just towed a spa on
wheels instead. Mum and Dad also joined me there and took most of the
contents of my trailer with them. I could have ditched the whole
thing but I wanted it along for ceremonial purposes. Packing it with
a pillow and one change of clothes turned out to be the best weight
to carry, but it definitely lacked the luxury I was accustomed too.
On a routine examination the next
morning, I saw that the tread on the trailer tyre had worn away so
much that the tube was now exposed and bulging. With one day left
there was no way I was going to change it so I decided it was worth
the risk. If it blew up on the ride, it would make for a more
spectacular entrance rolling in on the rim with sparks flying off
behind me. Thinking that, I almost did take to it with a knife to
ensure such an entrance did happen.
I cruised back towards Warburton and
the start of the rail trail then returned to Millgrove to meet my
cousin Gow. A catch-up chat there took long enough for slime tyre
sealant to start oozing out of three spots and collecting on the
trailer frame. Gow's wife Kellie offered to come collect it should it
not make the distance but I preferred the idea of leaving it where it
dies like a forlorn relic and warning to others who may want to
travel with cheap crap.
It was a beautiful sunny day and the
shady path of the trail stopped us from being over exposed. There was
an easterly wind gently propelling us along as we chatted and weaved
around all the weekend warriors that made the trail busier than a lot
of roads I had ridden on. We made such good time that a coffee stop
at Mt. Evelyns Cog cafe was necessary to avoid making a very
unfashionably early entrance.
One punter was sufficiently stoked with
my efforts to buy us both a drink and Gow and I both wished we had
been at a pub to have been shouted something worthwhile. The promise
of alcohol was needed to help push Gow up the only hill of the trail
and he got to the top looking like he needed CPR more than a beer.
The last stretch of highway widened the gap between us as Gow's
enthusiasm to end his 40km ride couldn't match my relief at finishing
my 2193km ride.
Even though I had gotten emotional
whenever I had thought of the end previously, I felt rather numb as I
rode the last few kilometres. Looking at a map of the entire trip the
night previous made me realise how much had been forgotten as one day
blended seamlessly into the next. The scope of the undertaking was
lost on me as day to day riding felt so normal now that not doing so
felt weird. The ride had encompassed the entire gamut of emotions but
they mostly came one at a time, like despair on Lions Road, ecstasy
on down hill descents or bewilderment whenever anyone asked me why I
was doing it.
As I closed in on Coldstream Brewery, I
either felt too many emotions and blocked them all out, or I was just
too over it to feel anything. When everyone poured out onto the
roadside to cheer me in, the former seemed more likely than the
latter. I pulled in, dismounted and raised my arms in triumph. Two
new emotions washed over me as my eyes moistened from um, some grit
off the road or something. The first was a sense of accomplishment
like I haven't felt since I tied my own shoelaces for the first
time. The second was a strong sense of resolve never to commit to
something of such scale without any understanding of....bollocks to
understanding, just don't commit to such a thing again really.
After a thorough round of hugs and
kisses, Kim and Tanya filled a big bucket with water and baptised me
back into normal life. Washed away was the stink of the day and the
every emotion except for relief. And a strong desire to drink with no
regard for how I felt the next day. I changed into dry clothes that
weren't padded in any way and totally devoid of lycra.
Dad had filmed my entrance and
impromptu shower while Kim filmed his feet, various things for one
second at a time of God only knows what while the lens cap was still
on. In Dad's usual style of filming anything and everything even
remotely related to a given topic, he happened to film a thorough
inspection of my rig. My bike must think that laying down is its best
look, and as it threw itself to the ground, the trailer tyre finally
blew out. The trailer had held on just long enough to make it and my
only puncture of the trip left a permanent green slime reminder in
the brewery car park.
Polite and orderly behaviour had to be
maintained at the brewery in view of the family but such restraint
could only last so long. The 'boys' Simon, Elliot, Gow and myself
hadn't been together since Elliots wedding in Asia last year so there
was a lot of catching up to do. Back to Simons we went and the ride
was officially ended at 1:30am with the consumption of the last drop
of whisky in the house.
Even though I could no longer stand
without wobbling or lie down without spinning, I still had the
wherewithal to give thanks for making it to the end in one piece. I
may have used up most of my nine lives, but I was so much better off
for the experience. There were things I would have liked to have
changed and could regret if I saw any point to it, but I don't. I did
something I had always dreamed of doing, proved to myself and various
doubters that I did have the ability to keep going even when the only
thing stopping me from giving up was having a justifiable excuse. I
came up with so many along the way that I thought almost justified
quitting, but I passed out on the last day of riding extremely
grateful that I had stuck with it and feeling pretty damn proud of my
achievement.
