With the weather of late being so unkind, our small bunch this morning siezed the oportunity to absorb some sunny vitamin D and head south towards Crescent Head. Our crew consisted of the legendary Gary Gillies (180 years old but still made of iron), the mighty Brian (B1) Bateman (the man who cannot lose), Brian's stepson Tim (visiting from cane toad turf) and myself.
A gentle slog down Plummers Lane and Summer Island Road soon saw us in Smithtown, a town recently recovered from flooding. We met Harald (the Kaiser) just before Smithtown. He'd pedalled up from Crescent. Harald's looking stronger on the bike each time I see him - no doubt he'll be a tyre shredding force once again by Summer.
Over the bridge from Smithtown and a moments confusion; were we heading back to South West Rocks or escorting Harald back toward Crescent?? We decided to head toward Crescent, saying bye bye to Gary, who opted to return to South West Rocks.
The road conditions were pretty bad, with some sections looking like the Gaza strip; no doubt a product of the recent flooding. Belmore River Road was rolling by effortlessly under our tyres, with the light variable breeze doing little to impede our progress. A few nasty potholes and some severe mud were easily avoided. Conversation was grand and everything was peachy until...
Unfortunately, some drivers still believe that they do truly OWN THE ROAD, and no-one else deserves to be there. We encountered one such individual, a psychopathic (or psycho pathetic) woman who was convinced we were breaking the law, simply by riding bicycles on the road. Well guess what lady, WE ARE NOT BREAKING THE LAW. Actually, the way she behaved towards us with her vehicle actually broke about three laws I can think of off hand. Had an officer of the law witnessed the event, she would surely now be awaiting her day in court.
Despite the truly pathetic and uncalled for turn of events, little could dampen our enthusiasm to complete the lovely ride we had embarked on, so, after a brief cool down at Loftus Street, we bade farwell to Harald and Brian, Tim and myself headed toward home, albeit somewhat nervously.
At Gladstone, we decided to head back to South West Rocks down the similarly named road, a slightly quicker yet more trafficked road. We made pretty good time, despite the increasing breeze. For the first time in months (years?), I was still feeling strong toward the end of the ride. I decided to have a go shaking off Tim and Brian, not once but twice. Of course, Brian cooly marked my wheel as if nothing was happening. I've got a lot of interval work to do!
Overall, a potentially great fun ride that was spoiled by the selfish attitude of a spiteful motorist.
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