Riding Backwards Uphill

"Endurance is one of the most difficult disciplines, but it is to the one who endures that the final victory comes"

 - Buddha

The ride from Esperance to Albany did indeed test the endurance of my body and mind. It was the most difficult stretch of road that I encountered on the southern coast of Australia - and indeed the toughest to date as I sit to write this blog from the comfort of Perth.

I was crippled by heart-breaking head winds that slowed my pace to a maximum of around 9km/hour. Day-in day-out I pushed into the gale-force winds which spat rain in my face and held me hostage to the road. Ten hours of physical strain per day allowed me to progress some 80km's. When my legs stopped, the bike stopped. I literally had to pedal down hills to maintain my vertical position. My brain raced and wound itself tighter and tighter with frustration for every turn of my legs. But onwards I pushed.

I passed through farm-land of little beauty, through the tiny township of Munglinup - significant only for the huge numbers of yellow-tailed black-cockatoo's defoliating towering trees outside of the road-house. 

Ravensthorpe was the next town along, and even my psychotic state of mind could not ignore the charm and character of this small community. The 'Country Kitchen' offered me yesterdays pies, pasties and sausage-rolls for $1 each. An offer to good to refuse, so I loaded up my bike with pastry goods for the upcoming slog. 

I stayed a night in the caravan park of Jerramungup to power my electrical devises and relax in the company of some pretty German tourist girls. I was glad to shower and my spirits were lifted significantly with a long phone call from my sister Stacey.

My bike was really starting to suffer from a few small problems along the way, resulting in snapped spokes in my rear wheel, and a very real bump in my ride - it was starting to feel like riding a bucking bull. This phenomena strongly promoted the snug relationship between the thin bicycle seat and my sorry back-side. Without providing too much information, this bumpy ride induced physical discomfort/injury to the point that I thought to seek the advise of a medical professional. However with no such professional in sight, I pushed on slowly until eventually I found myself walking my bike the last few kilometers into Albany - for fear that my back wheel would fold in half, and for fear that I may otherwise be left sterile for the remainder of my adult life. 

None-the-less there I was in Albany, with three bicycle shops and the desire to rest and recuperate over the Easter period. I was not going anywhere near the bike for a few days.

And so I was happy again.