Type 1 life adventures
The Silver Bullet lived up to her name when I was city dweller. We’d shoot past cars jammed in peak hour traffic. But with trucks and boat trailers zooming by on potholed country roads at 100km per hour, the poor dear has been grappling with performance and abandonment issues.
I’d never owned a car in my life until I moved back to the country in my late 30s. I rode to-from most places in Melbourne and my bike fitness was pretty solid. Transport was exercise that was woven into my daily routine. I didn’t have to make a conscious decision to go somewhere for a ride. I just enjoyed riding as my default means of getting about. I suppose it was kind of like the good old days when people were more active in their day-to-day being.
Now a ride to the shops on the other side of my little town takes all of about two minutes. Up here the lack of infrastructure and the tyranny of distance between country towns necessitates car use for many regional activities. I don’t spend more time travelling now to pilates in a neighbouring town than I used to ride my bike to yoga in an adjacent postcode, but the mode is different. I do miss the freedom of riding and the inherent health benefits.
But with a 26km event ride planned for next weekend, yesterday it was time to pump the tyres and get the Silver Bullet properly back on the road. Now that the Junior Burger magpies are fending for themselves it was a pretty low fuss 13km return ride out to Black Hill Reserve.
I can’t remember what time of year it was that I was last there when the ginormous golden mushrooms were out but it felt like wandering through an Enid Blyton tale with a hidden fairy world living underneath my feet. The enchanted wood had obviously decamped because there were none to be found this trip.
I do love clambering on and observing the array of rocks at Black Hill, some of which have been smoothed like marbles and seem to be plonked against the laws of gravity or held in place by a treaty with the trees. I opted to go up the guts of the ridge walk yesterday and then scramble back over the eastern lookout rocks and down again to the circuit road, where I was farewelled by the Frog Swamp Blues.
It was refreshing to peel layers off and have my skin sun kissed and breezed. I hope conditions continue like this next weekend. In the meantime, the Silver Bullet needs oil, my legs need stretching and I need to ride further and more regularly to alleviate sore bum seat. And I needed to scoff food before driving to pilates last night. All this activity pushes my blood sugar unnaturally down, down like the price of supermarket milk.