Mount Donna Buang

Today Marlon and I went for a ride up Mount Donna Buang.

It was absolutely freezing.  I was sodden wet, all through my clothing.

At the summit we climbed the look out tower.

On top of the tower we were battered by waves of sleet.  Every bit of exposed flesh ached with the pain of the cold.

So we ran to a rotunda for shelter, and found free BBQs.  

First ride of Winter

I am happy to say that I still find new roads in long-loved landscapes.

I am happy to say that I have found my true love from among the seasons, that riding in winter is like no other time.  As with any period of the year, time and space constantly shift with my speed, so that at one moment I look and the mist rests magically on top of hills, and the next it is hanging in the air about me.  But the truly magic thing is the sunlight, which sits in the air like another mist, a distinct element.  For while the summer glare digests everything, yet in winter you see the light hanging there, a discrete being with its own life.  On a motorcycle, with contemplative eyes, I enter into that life for a series of unexpected, passing moments.

A beloved tar and dirt track: Killingsworth Road....

Later I motored along something new: Whanregarwen Road.  This twisted, turned, rose, sank, flattened, and threw me up and out at Alexandra, where a friend waited.  And so I also spent time in friendship, before remounting and riding into the cold winter night.