Biting off more than I can chew

I remember reading a blog, most likely Brendan's, and there was line in there about a cake, a dog left alone with said cake... and... ah... the dog realising that it has to get as much cake into its mouth before it gets caught.

Not really sure where I was going with that but along similar lines I had mapped out a big ride for Sunday. Not only would it take me on a tour of my new surrounds, let me try out a few hills and sample a highly recommended bakery. It would let me test out myself and put a start marker on some proper training. It'd be a solo 120km's, not massive by any means but when you haven’t done over 60 in 6 months it's a little daunting.



I made an early start, heading up the highway towards Port Germein. Thankfully the traffic was light and I think I was only passed by 6 cars in the first 40km. I turned off the highway and headed along the road that would lead me through the Pt.Germein gorge. It was at this point that I started to falter. I couldn't have been more than 30km in when the combination of slight gradient, head breeze and no form forced me off my bike in a desperate attempt to find something wrong with it - rubbing brakes, slow flat, slipping seat, anything?!?

No, Jared. It's you. It's your legs.

Dejected I got back on and was instantly rewarded minutes later with a nice, twisting, not too steep path through the magnificent gorge - with the exception of a close encounter with a big kangaroo that hopped across my path then waited on the side of the road to give me a "what up" big chin stare.

A little while (ok a long while) later I popped out on the other side of the Flinders ranges and began to head south to what my workmates described as "a very good bakery". For those that enjoy riding out in the countryside, no doubt one of the reasons you do is so that you can enjoy a good country bakery (there's even a thread on FOA about it, no?). Well anyway, this is all I could think about for the next 30km...

You can imagine my dismay when I rolled into the next town only to be greeted by many a "Closed" sign as is extremely popular in this part of the world. Thankfully the pub was open and after reading enough of Andy's adventures I realise how important it is to eat when you can. I was treated to warm hospitality and a toasted sandwich. Not exactly Michelin star but it was fuel.

the lunch I wasn't supposed to have

I hopped back on the bike... 45mins down the road and... I FIND THE FREAKING BAKERY I WAS SUPPOSED TO STOP AT!!!

Well considering this was my ride, at my pace I treated myself to a 2nd lunch and the best dam hot chocolate and pepper steak meat pie in the world. They also had home-made cider and beer but I'll tick that box next time.

the lunch I was supposed to have

Now fully loaded my next surprise was 15km of mint "strada bianca"  bike path that took me from the bakery all the way to the turn off that would lead me back to Pirie - it was nice to tune out for a little bit and not worry about riding on the bloody shoulder (plus it’s just soooo Rapha/EEEppppiicccc).

Not much to report for the last 40km, but it was, strangely enough, at this point I started feeling good - legs felt loose and I found myself  in the big dog hammering along the highway. Not even a magpie attack dampened my spirit. Completely shattered, I rolled the last 5 km back into Pirie, collapsed on the couch and let the soothing tones of Alec Baldwin's character "Jack Donnahey" in 30 Rock, put me to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

Good.