My little piece of paradise.

You pedal for 30 minutes. Not long, but it is up. Three little rollers to the start of the serious stuff. We've had a lot of rain and the trails are pretty rutted out but that just makes it interesting. Control the breathing, keep the legs spinning, keep the quit thoughts away. Yeah, I really didn't feel like climbing a hill.

When the screaming meanies keep me from wanting to ride (or do much of anything) I make sure I stop and smell the roses. Actually it is a weed but it adds perspective and is a study in survival. Hang on, keep taking the nourishment life hands you, and thrive. I didn't stop on the way up but took this at the top. My game I play in my mind is to not stop. If you stop there is no reward at the top, no reason to take a minute and take in the view. Eat a muesli bar. Seems like a lot of work for a muesli bar and a look around.

Camp Mountain back towards the city.

Not a bad view though. You can see the city and beyond to Stradbroke Island over Moreton Bay. Thirty minutes from my door. I have the ability to get up here. I just sometimes need the motivation.

This way down....

My final reward is the trip back down the mountain. It's fast and fun with a few butt clenching moments thanks to the rain. Sweet. Life feels like it has been constantly handing me lemons lately. I must admit to just turning up my nose at them with disdain without a second thought for the strong, sweet flavor that they can release. So I grabbed the lemons the hill threw at me, lack of motivation, a bit of pain from not riding enough. I squeezed them and cajoled myself up to the top and there it was. Life's lemonade. Sweet as.
Squeeze the lemons people.