The ride by iandsmith
I felt wretched. For half an hour I wrestled with the prospect of facing a Melbourne morning beneath overcast skies. My partially blocked nasal passaged added to my wretchedness, but eventually I convinced myself, utilizing the deep and meaningful argument ?Don?t be a woos? and found myself early morning, in a lift in my lycra bike attire being stared at by fellow liftees.Relief came at the ground floor (I suspect for all of us) and I mounted by trusty steed, free at last in the madness of Flinders Street commuter traffic. Bikes, motorbikes, cars, cabs, trams, vans, buses and, worst of all, those bloody pedestrians!
I knew there was a bike trail on the other side of the river but I had no idea how you got there on a bike so I basically followed the pedestrian route, not wishing to disappear in tram line groove and never be heard of again.
Once across I was lost in the mid-chess game maze of those who walk and those who ride which offered ample scope for the advancement of my steering skills.
Whilst everybody was on a mission to arrive at work on time, I was heading on the opposite tack and trying to do a bit of sightseeing and act as a mobile chicane for the speedier two wheelers, an activity I succeeded admirably in achieving.
Once free of the morning surge and now adjacent to Melbourne?s outstanding Botanical Gardens I was able to relax a little more, though a steady trickle of traffic made sure I didn?t get too complacent.One thing that was apparent, Melburnians do congregate on and around the Yarra at this time of the morning. I was amazed at the number of scullers gracing the surface and how many joggers, walkers and cyclists the were in total.
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