Today I should be reporting to you from somewhere up on the north coast of NSW. This weekend is our group’s customary Snowy Ride and I have been looking forward to it for so long. Last year, you’ll recall, I had to come home early as I was in such pain that there was no way that I could manage to keep going.
Well, I’m glad to say that my physical condition has improved considerably since then and I am now able to do 400+km days with relative ease so I was looking forward to the 4 day weekend with great anticipation. The ride wasn’t a Snowy Ride as such as the weather and road conditions in and around the area where we normally ride have been very bad since the winter storms and winds so we decided that we’d do a Snowy Ride but go north instead. That makes sense, doesn’t it?
Day 1 consisted of south to Goulburn via the backroads then northwest via Tallong and Oberon to Lithgow, then down the Bells to Windsor, up the Putty and stay the night at Singleton. About 600kms, the usual day distances on our long rides. It was a bit colder than what I was expecting but I’d left the Winter lining in the jacket so it was no drama. However, by the time we got between Oberon and Lithgow it became clear that my brother was in a deal of difficulty. On a ride that we did a few years ago he suffered some pretty debilitating cramps in his right hand and we had had to cancel the ride and come home. Given that he had done a 6 day ride around Victoria late last month without a problem, it was annoying in the extreme that the problem reared its ugly head again on Day 1 of this trip. He popped some pills that didn’t seem to help in the short term so, by the time we stopped at Lithgow for lunch it was plain that he wouldn’t be able to continue.
I was concerned that, should the problem get worse as the day wore on, he wouldn’t be able to continue riding so I decided to follow him home and be there to pillion him if he found that he simply couldn’t ride any more. Two Snowy Rides in a row aborted through circumstances beyond our control. How unlucky can you be?
We toddled home down the Blue Mountains, stopping regularly to give him a rest. By the time we reached Penrith, the pain killers had done some good but he was still having problems with his hand cramping, so we pushed on and got home around 5. 577kms and I had experienced hardly any discomfort at all, by far the best outcome for several years.
I’m feeling a bit sore this morning but I pulled up pretty well, given the distance. Oh well, there’s always next year, I guess.