Left: doped up on sugary milkshakes ready to race the ride home. Middle 3: Za Bear sat on the rear rack playing with daddy's iPhone. Right: Mum stayed home looking pretty.
Each of us has our own way of pausing to recall some fool's crucifixion five billion years before Christ. For me, it is tossing Za Bear on to the seat I made so he would be more comfortable on my rear rack (beats looking like a baby in something similar made out of plastic), and tossing Quinby onto his 650c road bike, and embarking on the 50km round trip between home and Belmont, along a beautiful rail trail, the Fernleigh track. Quinby is approaching that age when I need to pressure him into club racing, to show my rivals my son is faster than their sons. Things like this mean a great deal to me, as I'm sure you can understand. It is important to me too that Quinby bomb past all recreational riders on hybrids and mountain bikes on trails such as these, as he has just done convincingly. I'm very proud of you son. I won't give your cat away as a prize. So yes yes, here here, a lovely day, truly.
From left: politicians blocking access to bike paths as usual. Middle two: rail trails are cool. Right: how it all looked as a rail line.
But if I may lodge one complaint, the designated cycle route between Newcastle and the start of this wonderful bike track that makes this such a great city to live in, presents young riders impossible crossings at Gordon Street, Chatham Street, Brunker Road, and Glebe Road, and on the way back at Park Avenue too. Sure, we could load our cars with kids and bikes and drive to the start of the track, or we could say the world sucks, and we're ready to fix it. If you're a politician reading this, please fix those black spots, then you can go back to sleep.