On Saturday, San and I went for our first long ride together. I was mildly concerned beforehand, that it might prove less than fun, if the discomfort and cold outweighed the "Whee!" factor of the ride. It was an ambitious trip, a big loop starting south down the coast from Sydney, heading inland and up through the Southern Highlands and back home. This time of year the Southern Highlands gets cold, so starting down at sea level and only reaching the highlands once the sun was high was the plan.
It was an early start, we were up at 6:30am. We'd intended to head out by 7:00, we were on our way by 7:30. We went down through the tunnels under the city, emerging blinking in the morning sun in Surry Hills and began our journey. It wasn't long before we'd left the trappings of civilization behind, pulling off the highway and heading into the Royal National Park. The temperature dropped suddenly as we entered the confines of the park, it felt like being grabbed by icy hands on legs and arms. Winding our way down through the hills, taking it nice and slow, this was the first time San had been exposed to these kind of curves. She handled it beautifully. We were about 45 minutes out when we took our first break, stretching legs and taking photos of the lake and the ducks. Soon we were at a small waterfall in a river, just before it lost itself in the sea. Then it was time for the proper ride through the Park. No birds jumped up in front of the bike this time, though we did see a lyre bird pecking by the roadside, and a wallaby hopping away through the underbrush.
We stopped at a cafe just after the park, in Stanwell Park, and had breakfast. Then it was time for shopping, inspecting the arts, crafts and antique stores of Stanwell Park. Nothing really caught our eyes though, besides a cute little antique sewing box San has been mulling over.
We mounted up and pushed on south, over the Sea Bridge, and on to Wollongong. There wasn't much to see there, so we got onto the freeway and picked up the pace a bit, heading quickstep down to Albion Park, where the Illawarra Highway bent its attentions inland. Before long we were at the base of the escarpment, with Macquarie Pass ahead of us. Again taking it nice and slow, we made our way up there, it is indeed a fun ride, over too fast! Before we knew it we were at Robertson, and stopped in for a pie at the famous Robertson Pie Shop. Everyone who knows the Southern Highlands knows of this one shop it seems.... it rivals the Yatala Pie Shop near Brisbane for reputation. The pies were good too! Lots of bikes were stopped there, and business seemed booming.
The weather was glorious, we could not have asked for a better day. Nary a cloud marred the sky. From Robertson we rode down a bumpy country road to Bowral, but before we reached Bowral we took a detour and went through Chevalier.
I don't have a great many fond memories of Chevalier. It was a miserable time, a low point in my life... people I speak to now seem shocked at how negative I am about it. I don't regret the time there, and I also don't expect that another school would have been all that much different for me... I was a strange little boy, uncomfortable with social mores and not keen to be social at any cost, bored with sports, with a penchant for confronting bullies and defending the bullied, all aspects that, unbeknowenst to me at the time, made me a prime candidate for being bullied. I did not suffer as much as some though. I have a vast and deep reservoir of hatred for those that inflicted suffering upon me, my friends, and those around me, that I doubt will ever be exhausted. I've moved on, my early 20s were spent dealing with those problems, and my time in Japan I feel laid those ghosts to rest... I felt I made something of myself there, that I have an identity separate to what happened, and feel no need to visit vengeance upon those who caused the suffering anymore. Their existence is suffering enough for them, I'm certain.
Having explained that, then, hopefully, sets the stage for my feelings as we rode through the middle of Chevalier. No anger, no loathing, the place feels drained of the emotional context it once had, and instead is a touchstone for what I am and where I came from, to some degree. Every inch of that school is soaked in meaning and experience for me, living within its fences for six formative years as I did. It was the worst experience of my life, but that highlights what a great life I have had, and continue to have, since I left.
After leaving the school, we headed into Bowral, and browsed the shops there. Again, nothing caught our fancy, but we ran out of time before fully exploring the town, it was getting late for our meeting with friends in Yerrinbool, just north of Mittagong.
We met up with them, and their adorable Rottweiler, and ended up staying and chatting for a couple of hours, much longer than I had anticipated but there was much to talk about. When I realised the sun had set, we departed and made our way onto the highway. All up it took a hundred minutes, in the cold of the deepening night, to reach home, with no break. We were both somewhat sore and quite cold by the time we rolled down the ramp to the garage, but a soak in the bath solved many of those complaints very quickly. That was a long ride home to go without a break, I'm very proud of San and my own stamina, she hasn't been practicing uninterrupted rides of that length and made it through and hasn't been turned off further rides.
I'll need to come up with something of equal appeal for the next ride!
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