Today I took a really heavy bike for a long walk up a steep mountain

DAY ONE of the Mawson Trail
Apparently an easy day to begin with. Only 40 Ks straight up hill. You may remember I have already admitted to lack of technique when it comes to mountain biking. Well combine this with a man size, heavy mountain bike and you might work out why I was walking most of the trail today. The breaking point was a fall - which  lots of people behind me saw and yet NOT ONE WORD of sympathy by the way - which meant I couldn't get back on the bike anyway... and so it went from there. At least until I got to the top, and remounted for the downhill run. Persistent drizzle turned the "Dust Nuisance" signs into a sad joke as I poised myself over the bike (bum off the seat) to assign the correct amount of weight to the front and rear wheels while using the brakes to slow the headlong rush towards certain doom - again. Too much brake caused an alarming sideways slewing motion as my knobbley tyres were filled with slick, wet clay and therefore useless for traction. At times it was better to let gravity guide me along the deeply rutted groves, the exact width of a tyre, rather than trying to control the bike. An act of faith at times. A fine balancing act - in every sense. I was getting really good at it too, but I discovered I have the unlady-like habit of riding with my mouth wide open, and collected several mouthfuls of thick mud as it flicked up from my front tyre. Lost all my mates after a flat tyre delayed departure from morning tea, and soon found myself riding with no one. I was sure my friend was just behind me, but I HAD been waiting for ages as a small collection of riders passed me. I was getting cold and wet, and then began to think he'd passed me with that small last bunch and I was standing all alone in a forest for no good reason getting colder and wetter by the minute. Got in to camp and noticed he was not there, so therefore must have had a breakdown. If he was feeling anything like I was it could have been of the psychological kind, but knowing his fitness levels and strength of character I figured it was a mechanical one. So I asked the powers that be what happens to riders who break down on the trail, and was reassured that there is a really late tail-end Charlie who sweeps up the last of the riders at the end of each day, but here's the phone number to ring if I was worried about him. So being the devoted friend that I am, I sat down and had lunch, deciding that another 20 minutes might do the trick. Another unlady-like habit was revealed to me (2 in one day - how will I cope!) I like to lean on my elbows at the dinner table! I know this because my elbows were one of the really hurtie bits after my fall. Took a good look and there was blood seeping through my clothes! This should win me some sympathy. But I didn't get any (again) because at that moment (precisely 20 munites and one delicious lunch) later he staggered dramatically in. Three flat tyres! Wrong tube! Disaster! All the sympathy I could have got was cruelly redirected. (Personally I don't think he desrves any at all.) But I'm over it now. Its amazing what a hot shower can fix - even if it is in the back of a truck... Now the only problem I have for today is to figure out which drink is the most effective way of removing the taste of mud from my mouth. This could take some time, so I can see a long evening at the pub ahead. (Any excuse, I know!!!)