I loved the 90 minutes I had the first time round. I'd been working away from home for nearly two weeks, with 14-15 hours per day for the last 8 days to earn the Friday to myself before getting on the boat on Saturday. I spent that wandering around Hobart and Mt Wellington and so by time I dragged the bike out to ride the Mt Wellington trails Friday arvo it was late, I was shagged, so I pulled the pin, I think I rode a whole 800m.
Set the alarm ridiculously early Saturday to do the coast and hopefully make it to Derby in time. And I still nearly didn't ride. After the disaster the day before and everything you hear about Tassie trails, if it wasn't for my WHOLE club knowing I was there (there was a club race the weekend before and Mrs George was saying lovely things about where I was, I'm sure
), and the distinct chance of never getting there again, I might not have even pulled the bike off the back seat.
But bugger me if it wasn't the best ride of my Dadbod life. I don't remember the exact trails I took going up, but I did the whole Kingswall decent and I had never attacked rocks like that before. The only thing that held me back a bit was the explaining I would have to do to Mrs George if I'd binned it and missed the boat home. I reckon that would've have hurt more than the actual crash!