Readers who’ve been with me for a while may remember a flurry of posts proclaiming that cycling is the best form of exercise for the mature human. What became of all that? Well, it persisted. It’s part of my life. I enjoy it. It does me good. But …
You knew there was a but coming didn’t you? A good time to ride is early morning, especially in the tropics. The best time to watch birds is early in the morning, especially in the tropics. At home it’s OK to fit them in side by side. Some mornings the bike, some mornings the binoculars. On my expeditions the suite of birds is changing fairly quickly. The bike goes with me but the birds win out.
Having settled back into Broome it’s time to charge up the little toys that cyclists attach to their conveyance, oil the chain, pump up the tyres and head out. I consulted Strava. I presume there is some algorithm in the core of its soul that takes account of recent activity (none) and perhaps age (ancient) and comes up with a suggested target. It did a splendid job and suggested 15km per week. An excellent idea, I thought. Sadly it was immediately vetoed by my dearly beloved. Thirty five today she insisted. A short ride to ease back into it.
On with the Lycra. I felt like a multi-coloured whale. Then the zip popped. A stranded multi-coloured whale that had bloated and burst. That was my largest top but fortunately I found a smaller one with a stronger zip.
Swing onto the saddle, clip in, wobble. I could not have felt more alien. My new multifocal sunglasses conspired to create the illusion that I was on top of a penny-farthing but the legs felt really good … for a while. After 35 km it all felt like old times (apart from my bottom, that is). Just like riding a bike.
Broome has one major road in and out. Large trucks, speed limit varying between 90 and 110kph for the main part. The alternative is to ride around town. You have to be creative to come up with a long enough ride and then it does become repetitive but you can take in some beautiful spots like Cable Beach and Entrance Point. You do have to share the road to the Port with road trains that are four trailers (60m) long but they are driven by professionals. I’m actually more frightened of the old men towing caravans.
And, in winter, the weather is perfect. Get out early to avoid sunburn. It isn’t going to rain.
bobmcgee 