Saddle sore and satisfied.

Finally after 3 weeks of sore knees, spewing and coughing my way through life I got back on my bike and rode a few K's. Yesterday was only a 15 km stroll around Bunya to turn the legs over and basically sit on the bike to say I had. Not impressive, fast or hard but it was a ride nether the less. I ran into Nick at the start of the ride and he rolled around with me for a bit and we organised to meet for a ride this morning on the roadies to try and blow a few cobwebs out. The road bike is great for that as it tends to be a more consistent effort rather than the more intense efforts that characterise a long mountain bike ride.
It was bloody freezing this morning though. Luckily Nick and I have agreed that if we organise a ride then we both feel bad if one of us bails out. That and the fact that the person who pulls out is mercilessly ragged on for the next ride and publicly ridiculed to any person who will listen. The male ego provides some very powerful motivation when necessary. Anyway, pinch of concrete in the teacup consumed, winter woolies donned and I was off. Bloody freezing. The plan was a lazy loop of the dam, out to Samford on Wynn Road and home via the coffee shop near home. Should total about 50km and be pretty relaxed. It was. I was pleasantly surprised at how casual Nick was taking it and I was coping with the pace quite well. Then he told me he had knocked over a bottle of red the night before and was feeling a bit ordinary. Right then, time for some fun. I pushed it a bit harder than I thought I could with a head still full of snot and made sure I didn't slip back on the climbs and made him work just a bit. The payoff came as we headed over the Samford Range and he complained. "Where's the bloody elevator!" I have never heard Nick complain on a hill and he realised he had slipped up immediately. He turned to me and said "You're not going to tell anyone that you heard me complain about a hill are you?" Oh hell yeah I am. "Nick, I am going to get it sky written. I will shout it from the rooftops and tell random strangers in the street." It was one of my finest moments since starting to ride with that skinny mountain goat of a human and I am still savoring it now.
After that he pelted down the other side and I had to try really hard to not get left behind. The taste of coffee was pulling us along like an invisible rope and with the last push back to home flat and open it was down in the drops and on the gas. Nothing blistering but still a solid 50km/hr all the way to the coffee shop. Coffee carrot cake and conversation. The perfect finish to a ride. I may have even lit a little spark in his head about taking on the Terra next year. We'll see.
It feels bloody good to be back though......