This year certainly has been one of change and challenge. No sooner had we set a plan to spread the love in the bushfire-ravaged areas than we got locked in the shed.
There are only so many times I can check the tyre pressures and chain tension. And… a tidy shed is like a tidy desk; a sign of a sick mind. I’m not going that far.
There is only so much non-riding time this little black drake can cope with. With a bung ankle, bush-fire road closures and now the Mexican Beer Virus, I haven’t ridden for nearly six months and there’s not much more than a lit fart at the end of that tunnel.
Rate hike
I remembered a mate telling me he wore out his first bike, a BSA Bantam, doing laps of the backyard.