Darren Bowman

Today's ride began in cool air, but I reveled in the glorious sunshine. Typically I'd over dressed and had to stop to remove layers before I'd gone far. At Mount Mercer I turned south and noticed some menacing grey clouds, which the tips of the wind turbine blades vanished into. I wished I'd brought my rain jacket. My route descended off the plateau onto the Western Plains. The lower I went, the colder it got. By the time I'd reached the Allandale farm I was in a pea soup fog. The moisture in the air was condensing on my helmet and dripping off the peak. I quickly changed out of my flannelette shirt into my fleece jumper to avoid getting too cold and wet. Continuing south, somewhat optimistically, the fog got so thick that it was like riding on a magic carpet. In the flat featureless country all that I could see was perhaps 50m of road ahead. I pedaled on for hours, for mile after mile the view didn't change. I hoped to reach a stone wall fence on a corner (where I'd stopped on a previous ride) for lunch. My energy level was dropping. I noticed piles of volcanic rock looming out of the fog. The piles became long piles along the fence line, but still no stone wall. Eventually I gave in to my hunger and stopped at a rock pile to eat. Fueled up again I pressed on and found my stone fence a few kilometers further on, before heading west and later turning for home. Farm vehicles appeared out of the gloom and I was thankful to have my bike lights. Low energy levels and a slightly upset tummy resulted in me running out of steam north of Corrindhap. As Dale wasn't riding he was able to come to the rescue to save me riding up the last hill. We met on a farm road in gorgeous green countryside just as I emerged from the fog. It was a beautiful sunny day back home at Dereel.