July 19, 2015
What a performance: It must be a Scandanavian thing
We’d found a camping spot down by a little stream just past a place called Yarra Junction but being down by the water just intensified what was already an incredibly freezing cold night. We both wore lots of clothes and each had two sleeping bags, but I could tell Dea was feeling the cold during the night, and so I insisted on giving her my extra sleeping bag. This was an act of chivalry that I came to regret as I shivered through the rest of the night myself.
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Morning eventually came and we got up to find the ground covered in frost, and ice in our water bottles. Then Dea, in an astonishing act, went for a swim in the icy stream. 'Must be a Scandanavian thing', I thought as I watched her. She got out and seemed fine and warm whilst I was freezing cold in all my clothes. I started to wonder now whether Dea was in fact real. Aside from the fact that all this was too good to be true, there was also the suspicious fact that she looked remarkably like the imaginary girlfriend I used to have, but every time that I asked she insisted she was real. I decided that even if she wasn’t real and I had in fact gone completely insane then that would be okay, because either way everything was still awesome fun right now.
We went back to Yarra Junction so that I could wash in the disabled toilets like any normal person would, and then we had to leave the rail trail and head south, initially on a very quiet back road. It was another nice clear day with frosty mist hanging low on the hills that appeared somewhat mystical. But there was no time to focus on that because the horse game quickly recommenced. Dea had suggested her own new rule, that being a punishment of minus five points for any false claim of having spotted a horse when in fact there was no horse there. This was a slightly cruel thing for her to do, because to me a lot of things look a bit like horses, and before I knew it my overnight advantage of 30-17 had slipped away to a 15-19 deficit.
We then had to join a slightly busier road that climbed up into the mountains through the forest. The tight corners on the winding road as we climbed steadily upwards meant that the level of traffic, though not excessive, was a little uncomfortable, and I stayed close behind Dea to try and reassure her. We had decided that we would take back roads and rail trails as much as we could and avoid the highway, but this was our first slightly hairy road.
We decided to take a break from the road in a rest area. There was a long bench in the sunshine that we sat on and got out our sandwiches. It was a nice spot, and the peace and quiet of the forest around us was so nice. But just as we were thinking this two big cars roared in, each towing a trailer with two motocross bikes on, and parked just in front of us. Four guys got out and began to remove the bikes from the trailers, revving them loudly as they did so. It was all happening just in front of us, the bench positioned as if it was our intention to view the performance in front of us. Then the performance got a whole lot more graphic, as one of the men suddenly, without fair warning, pulled down his trousers and stood there in his boxer shorts. I instinctively reached up and covered Dea’s eyes with my hand, and looked away myself. A moment passed. “Is it over yet?” Dea asked. I decided to risk it, better I look than let Dea do it. I glanced up. Oh, the man was still in his boxers, and now he was bending over! “No, it’s not over yet. And I’ve gone right off my sandwich.”
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Eventually the show came to an end as the men got their leathers on and roared off into the forest loudly, and peace and quiet returned to the picnic area, just as it was time for us to leave. Fortunately we didn’t have to stay on the busier road for very much longer, and we were soon back on more quiet roads. A steep climb led us up and over, and down back into farmland. The rest of the day was thoroughly pleasant – big open farmland, rolling hills and enjoyable cycling. Best of all our game could continue which meant I was able to resume shouting out “Horse!” and Dea could resume shouting out “No Chris, that’s a cow!”
Today's ride: 62 km (39 miles)
Total: 44,992 km (27,940 miles)
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