Why I love my mum. (or how I learned to stop worrying and love the bike)

Firstly, what a crazy crazy week.  Icy cold weather, sleet, socialising, a full on work schedule and a wounded bicycle were all crushing blows to my cycling time this week. 

My parents are in town visiting this weekend; and they were obliging enough to spend the morning with me at the science museum while I did my volunteer rounds.  They actually got right into the experience, and we had a great time playing with the exhibits.  I even got some curious kids asking me my favourite question.

"BUT WHY?"

Then off I went with my family for a nice lunch.

HANG ON JUST A COTTON-PICKING MINUTE.  THIS BLOG IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT BIKE RIDING, ESPECIALLY THE LONG DISTANCE TYPE.  I know what you're thinking dear reader; all your faithful author has done today is talk and eat.  Both of which are admirable activities to be sure, but neither of these activities were done while on a bike so what's the point in blogging it?.

Well, it was the conversation that makes this so worthy of blogging.  So crazy and exciting that, well, I'm excited like big Kev (obviously excited like big kev prior to him being deceased.)

Over lunch, I told my parents about my cycling plan.  I was surprised by their response.  No surprise whatsoever.  Just a "That sounds like your idea of a holiday" 
Then my mum chimed in.
"So you're going to ride down for Christmas, and then I guess knowing you, you'll turn around and ride back home"

A cheshire-cat like grin spread across my face.  I hadn't even thought of getting back home.  What a fantastic idea... I may as well ride back..... It's really a bugger of a job to put a bicycle in one of those big boxes to go on the aircraft, and I do always get that cringey feeling when I watch the baggage handler lob my most precious posession with one arm from the aircraft down to the baggage trolley.   I don't think there's anyone on this planet who'd want to give me and my push-bike a random lift from Colac to Canberra.  Riding my bike back just makes perfect sense.

So, like Frodo Baggins said, "there and back again"  instead of 810km, that makes it 1620km.  Providing my boss lets me have enough time off work, I see no reason why not.  Besides, what if I were to miss some scenery on the way down... or worse, not sample the coffee in every town possible?

By this stage my wonderful dad had rallied himself, and collected his jaw off the table.  He very gently suggested that maybe I should take things a little bit easier and head off to the Phillipines to do a spot of gentle and lady-like spelunking and white water rafting.  Great idea dad, I'll lock that adventure in for 2012; after the bike ride of course.

Love ya mum and dad!