Waking Up In August...

...or that's what I thought this morning when I had a look out the window. Fog, rain and cold..the big three. Rode Donna B and almost lost the plot on the way down in the such crappy conditions chilling me to the core. I wasn't the only rider on the mtn, but it was scary to say I was the most clothed rider by far, with some not so bright individuals climbing in jerseys and shorts and no legs or arm warmers...no wonder you hear the stories of hypothermia coming back down. Luckily the 5 lyrebirds scratching about on the side of the road (and the three courageous fellas who thought it would be a top idea to dart in front of me) kept me alert enough to hold it together for the 17km arctic expedition down. Consequently any pedalling after that sucked big time. The body shut down hard trying to pedal again at the bottom and I crept like a wounded penguin for the next 3hrs home wondering what just the hell happened to my legs. Nice. Where did all the sunshine go? Lator, cw.