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Posts tagged ‘rain’

Totally ignoring any double entendre

When Jed and I left the house this morning it wasn’t raining.

That changed.

At times I could barely see the trees at the verge of the road, although that may have been because my glasses were streaming. I was soaked through. Although sectors of me were humidly warm, my extremities were swollen and numb. My hair was plastered to my skull, apart from the occasional strand whipping me across the face. I was experiencing rising anxiety about how permeable my mobile phone was.

Halfway to Hakahaka Bay, Sheriff and The Bunqueen pulled up beside me. Sheriff wound down the window. Their car was warm; they looked dry and toasty and strikingly sane.

“You going to Picton?” I mumbled through blue lips.

“Hell, yeah; it’s Sunday! We’re going to get the papers and read them over coffee.”

Then they were gone in a puff of damp exhaust fumes.

I was just reflecting upon whether my cotton pants could feasibly retain any more water, allied with how much my life completely sucked, when I got a text from Husband: ‘Fancy a pickup?’

At that moment, I viscerally understood the meaning of true love.

Although it was another ten minutes before my life stopped sucking.

Aggressive roots

Last Friday morning, we were woken by shafts of sunlight playing with our toes. Inspired by a discussion with MarkJ during dinner the previous night, I suggested we take the mountain bikes out to Woodhill.

We dressed in a high state of excitement (NB: similar effect can also be achieved by the removal of clothes), fixed coffee and packed the bikes in the car. By the time we opened the garage door, it was driving rain.

“Maybe the sun is shining in Woodhill,” I suggested optimistically.

By the time we got to Swanson, the rain had increased in gusto and tempo, with the introduction of a swirling fog effect. Contrary to my parents’ example, I do not give up in the face of adversity. However, I do give up in the face of Husband refusing to drive any further and/or the prospect of wet feet. So we bought coffee and went home.

The following day, we relaunched the expedition. Woodhill is a 40 minute drive west along the #16, then left onto Restall Road. In addition to over 100km of bike trails, there is an obstacle course, motorbike track, horse trails, and orienteering.

We didn’t want to advertise our novice status – the aggressive wobble I employ to propel my bike is sufficient – so we started with a 12km intermediate track. The paths are fully maintained, sand-based woodland trails, with jumps along the way. I dodged these, since I had my work cut out avoiding advancing tree roots.

[Image robbed from someone without their permission]

Each jump is allocated a level of difficulty. Husband tried a few according to a selection process I couldn’t decipher. He acts like it’s all just so ho-hum, but he always waits until I am in the vicinity before embarking on his arial stunts. What cracks me up is that the only time he ever checks to see whether I’m looking is after he flobbles or falls off.

For jumps – or even descending a sharp step – apparently the trick is to dismiss instinct and/or common sense and perform a wheelie just prior to hitting the descent. In theory, this raises the front wheel until the back wheel launches; then both wheels return to the ground simultaneously. Otherwise, if the riser is too sharp, there is a risk that when your front wheel drops the rider flies over the handlebars.

I’m still studying this theory.

Just before the carpark I hit a patch of soft sand negotiating a corner. The front wheel dug in and I involuntarily abandoned my bike and slid into the carpark on my chin. Now I have a fat, lopsided chin; a hole in my lip where I stabbed it with a tooth; and an impressive array of bruises and grazes down my right leg.

But I can’t WAIT to do it all again

Sniffing the highlighter pen

This was the view out the bedroom window this morning. I’m not sure whether the image fully captures just how WET it is. Does it? Odd that the raindrops the size of teabags didn’t come out in the photo.

There’s something wrong with my Internet connection which, by association, means my landline is poked. Internet access is erratic yet manageable, but when Husband called me last night there was a 7 second delay on the line and it sounded like he had been sniffing the highlighter pen. I mean, maybe he had, but it would be a new development.

Husband spent 40 minutes before he got through to Slingshot‘s advancedly useless customer support. I would have called them, because there are times when nothing beats banging your head off a brick wall, but of course my phone doesn’t work and mobile coverage here is non existent at the best of times. It will take Slingshot up to 48 hours to address the issue, presumably because they’re run off their feet ignoring customers

Proof of sun

I wanted to post this earlier, but YouTube took an active dislike to my browser cache and refused to reflect thumbnails. Sorry about the detour into geekland there. Click here or on the link below to access the video.

Storms

The view from our balcony this afternoon after a thunderstorm that lasted all day yesterday and today

Rain

Dubai puts on another spectacular show: rain shower, picture taken at Chinese Court in Ibn Battuta Mall

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