Have now been cycling in variable degrees of uprightness Downunder for nigh on nine months. So far have been spat at, shouted at, run off the road, blown off the road, soaked, sunburnt, frozen, hailed on, snowed on, starved, over-fed, over-charged, under-charged, over a possum (a dead one), under a possum (a tree-climbing one), bitten, stung, dog-chased, car-chased, bitten again, wounded, x-rayed, stuck in mud, stuck in floods, battered by unseasonable storms, peppered with shrapnel-like gravel, skimmed by 40-ton logging trucks, swallowed by bottomless potholes, whiplashed by an argumentative tree, divebombed by a helmet-hitting harrier, haunted by the eerie call of a morepork (owl), followed by a fantail (bird), chased by an ostrich, charged at by a boar, caught in a sheep-jam, held up by a cow-block, bird dropping dropped-on by a startled starling, met a builder (Gary) and had a nice time.

Ice

Ice