For some reason, I don’t feel like blogging at the moment. Or rather, I don’t feel like blogging about my weekend adventures, as I normally do. Not sure why, just don’t! But as Mdm Hr has dobbed me in for hammering her on the hills, I guess I must respond! Funnily enough, after procrastinating all weekend about updating the blog, as I was trawling through the 150 emails in my work in box this morning, I came across this, on slow blogging. Might take that cause up for a while.
Saturday was going to be doomed day, starting off by sleeping in due to alarm failure (human error, something to do with pm instead of am… oops!). The first 10 minutes of the ride were uneventful, until we approached a roundabout. With traffic on our right, and a ute looming up behind us, I stayed on Mdm Hr’s right, keeping us two abreast and claiming the lane. I had a funny feeling the ute driver was going to try to squeeze past us. That he did, managing to collect me, or rather my right pedal and side of my leg, sending my toppling forward. I managed to stay upright, and all I could think was “I’ve been hit! I’ve been hit!” like a cartoon character who thinks they’ve been shot and is going to die. Fortunately Mdm Hr was there. As I went round to speak to the driver (“What are you doing dude??!!!!!”) she pulled out the phone, took photos, recorded time and date etc. Apparently he thought we were moving forward into the intersection and kept rolling the car through. Not sure how he thought that when we were both stationary with one foot firmly planted on the ground. Anyway, he was profusely apologetic, apparently willing to cover costs for any damage done (it’s carbon fibre man, hope you’ve got the money!!), gave me his details etc. I checked the bike out as best I could, still in a state of disbelief (it was my first up close and personal with a car). All seemed ok, nothing bent, nothing cracked, gears changing normally. The bike gave me no issue on the rest of the ride, and while washing it yesterday I gave it a thorough going over and all seems good. Apparently, the bianchi signed its name on the ute, so the driver will have a lasting memory of meeting me.
The rest of the ride was pretty average, in that, that’s how I felt. We had a goodly headwind and by the time we got to turning right to head out to
Sunday I was in Boolarra, recovering from a very late night in Traralgon helping a dear friend celebrate her 50th. I only had two drinks for the whole night, I must be getting old! I had plans to ride the Strzelecki hills on Sunday, but after mowing my lawn of pasture length rye grass, my immune system complained bitterly and I was not riding anywhere. Fortunately I was able to get some antihistamine for the drive home. Being a citychick now, I’d forgotten about the power of rye grass for setting the skin on fire, and the sinuses flooding with muck.