The tale of Sweet Sunny Sunday

What a gorgeous ride up the 1 in 20 last Sunday. Whilst it wasn't the most challenging ride I've ever done it was a great way to spend an unusually sunny weekend in Melbourne.
Strava (click here) suitably recorded all of the finer points and it was the first time I've decended from the old Sassafras sass without sooking about how cold it is. Honestly, my eyes weep at the cold when it's anything less than 5 degrees, yet I can comfortably watch pros riding in falling snow and abuse their lack of effort from the comfort of a nook in the couch. Hypocrite never came cleaner off the tongue.

Can I start, however, by making a short public announcement to all those in the greater Stonnington area. If your car has more parking tickets, flat tyres and bird shit on it than branding, it's time to buy a bike. You've clearly lost all interest in it's abilities of transportation and a change might be what you're after.

Of course, the person that owns the above car may have already done that, hence the condition of what must once have been a proud Merc.

♪♫♪My friends all drive Porches, I must make amends. Oh lord, won't you buy me, a shit-stained Benz♪♫♪

 Great ad, really stuck with me that one.

So back to the cycling. We hit the top of the hill (1 in 20) and had a great recoup at Ripe café where we added to the lycra clad swarm clambering over each other for coffee like flies on sh...um, never mind.
I wonder whether flies pass cafés early on a Saturday/Sunday morning, see the cyclists and just take a moment and to appreciate.

 

 Probably what I enjoy most about Ripe café is the sign over their toilet.

 

Notice how at the bottom is says "Please don't rip this sign down!", which would suggest that in the past someone has.

Why would that have happened?

Did someone read the sign and get offended at management's request?

"That's crap, if I wanna piss on the seat, I'm gonna piss on the seat. Free country and all, you can't tell me to aim for the bowl."

I can only hope it wasn't a woman tearing down the sign in protest.

Dave coming back down the hill.

I do love riding, but I also love the great things I see along the way. Stopping to whip out the mobile and snap a memory does keep me entertained, maybe not so much my fellow riders as they continuously stop but they'll get over it.
This photo is one I took towards the end of the ride. Maybe I'm misreading something here, but the award doesn't seem to fit with the associated product.

Finishing the ride was like finishing this story, overdue.
I swung past Dad's place where there was an amazing breakfast/lunch just waiting to be shredded. Exactly what I needed.

So if you've managed to read all the way through, thank you. I realise I'm publishing a tale that's probably more befitting of an 85 year old grandfather rambling in a shady corner hoping to snare some passer-by in the convoluted web of his story rather than that of a 26 year old man who is (supposedly) sound of mind. That's ok though, I kinda like the thought of being that guy who just talks until someone listens. Trial and error and all that. Or something.
Dum de dum de dum.
So....who's going out tonight?
Ah this post is over, who'm I kidding.

Thanks for reading. If you still are.

Ok. I'm really going now.
No you hang up. No you!
Ok, love you.
Bye.


Bye.

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