Today ended up being a very wet ride even though the sun was shining and you had to hunt around to find even a skerrick of cloud in the sky.
It was a (I drunk too much last night) late start, and consequently, solo ride today and the plan was to do a lazy mash of the northern half of the Moreton Bay Cycleway.
It is usually a pretty safe ride, mostly on paths and boardwalks. It’s the kind of ride you do as a default. But after a few days of rain like we had this week it tends to get flooded in the Boondall Wetlands section. I knew this, having ridden this course countless times before — but of course I forgot it today until I saw all that water over the path and I was like, “Oh yeah…I remember now…” But I mashed on.
This is the very spot Jeremy had a crash and I went down over the top of him. I love how there is that prophetic sign.
In the photo above you can see one of those flooded sections — which typically ran for about 5-10 metres. So negotiating these tiny lakes I unclipped both shoes and pulled my legs up as high as possible and used my momentum to roll through. This worked quite well but there were a few very deep sections a bit later and I could not help but get a bit wet. Not ideal, but no biggie.
These “middens” are scattered throughout the park to honour the aboriginal people who once thrived here. Also in this photo is one of those “skerricks of cloud”.
Pretty soon you get to Shorncliffe and then the sweet, sweet virginally-white concrete surface over the new Ted Smout Bridge (below).
I turned around at Woody Point and had a break here at Sandgate looking out over the mudflats. This is the only photo I took while not riding.
I love this “Addams Family house” in Shorncliffe.
So next I thought about taking Sandgate Road home — which is a bit of a shortcut — thus avoiding all the bullshit of constantly flooded bikeway. But then I thought, “I need the k’s!” So I just kept going and before I knew it I was back in the Wetlands and just after passing a dude with his 4 young daughters — all on bikes — I came upon that really deep section of water which was so deep you couldn’t see the bottom.
This time I didn’t unclip, I just went really slowly but then the front wheel dropped at least 10 cms into an invisible hole and BANG! That sent me sideways and I was suddenly lying in about 5 inches of water — instantly saturated.
I dragged myself and the bike up, which had hit the ground hard, but didn’t seem damaged. My right shin, hidden by knee-warmers, hurt and so did my left wrist. I got back on the bike and rolled through all the water to where it was dry and by then that family I had just overtaken came up. Luckily they hadn’t seen me crash! But I told the dude and what had just happened anyway. He stopped and was pretty nice. And so I told the girls I had learnt my lesson — follow the white line in the middle of the path (the highest and most visible section).
Meanwhile I pulled the camera out of the back pocket of my jersey and attempted to take a picture of the horrible scene but it refused to switch on. It “looked” switched on — the lens was mysteriously extended but it was frozen. Then I realised with all its dents and marks it had hit the ground just before I did, and in the process it would have been completely submerged in water.
And then I pushed off and my drenched feet squished at every stroke. Oh well. At every other bit of submerged bikeway I just smashed through thinking I couldn’t get any wetter. When I got to Nundah crit track I wrung out my socks and tried to get the camera working again without success. Then I did a few laps and headed home.
It is officially dead. It was actually Dee’s camera btw, but the good news is — I can buy a new one now!
Just now downloading the images I took today – the image below was recorded by the camera just at the moment at, or just after the crash. BIZARRE! I think it kinda looks interesting and maybe even symbolic of its doom — its last hurrah.
BONUS PIC!
This morning the cat just turned up at this door (which leads to the kitchen). And it’s not an entrance she ever uses. But it seemed like she was insisting – so we acquiesced.
DJ GLAD RAPPA 