Woodhill December 31

Some of my favourite cycling websites are Japanese touring blogs like this one wherein the protagonists take themselves for a leisurely ride, culminating at a restaurant.

This is not unlike mountainbiking with Chris Money, whose lean physique belies his apparent belief that any trip out of the house should be a gastronomic adventure.

On Sunday Chris, his laconic Australian friend Alan, and I took ourselves to Woodhill to work up an appetite, and in my case, lose a little blood.

I knew that Money was turning backflips in anticipation of seeing me suffer on the 29er, and he was not to be disappointed.

In the first 20 minutes of our ride I overcooked my entry to a fast sandy righthand turn. I landed hard on my right knee, but contrived to fall short of a solid-looking trailmarker that would have spoiled the rest of my day. The resultant adrenalin was a boon on the following climb of Uplands, though the 52" gear,and certain aspects of my on-bike demeanour, seem more appropriate to someone half my age.

With Money was bringing up the rear chanting his mantra of "I'm not going to break my collarbone", I chased Alan around a smorgasbord of entertaining singletrack, eventually reprising my early front end washout, but with less pain.

After two and a half hours, (but only 1.5hours riding, according to Alan's computer), we left the forest with all our collarbones intact, heading for Girasol Cafe in Kumeu, where we rewarded ourselves commensurate with out efforts.