Not the Willunga Hill.

 I don't know how I ever managed to work full time: by the end of 4 days my brain was mush and I was very tired of looking at the colourbond fence outside the window. My new bike sat in the garage and called to me, and whenever I went beach walking I was tempted to go beach riding instead but my bike was just too shiny and new to subject it to sand and salt water just yet.

So I rode to Willunga instead. Willunga lies in the McLaren valley which is chockablock with wineries, but Willunga's real claim to fame is the Willunga Hill which features prominently in the Tour Down Under bicycle race. Of course the pro cyclists make it look easy, but on any day of the week (and particularly on Sunday morning) you can find a Lycra Lad or 7 seeking to prove themselves by grinding painfully up the hill before turning around and coasting back down again. Willunga business owners aren't silly: coffee shops jostled for prime position at the bottom of the hill.

False flat.

The road to Willunga looked flat, but was uphill. By the time I got to Willunga I had convinced myself that my tyres were flat or I was unfit, or both.  

Downtown Willunga: colourful furniture and almond blossoms.

There I was, in Willunga with a bicycle and there was the Willunga Hill, nefarious nemesis of every wannabe cyclist in South Australia. So did I ride up it?

You have got to be kidding. Of course not.

I didn't go to the pub either.

 

I wandered quickly about Willunga, but there wasn't much time left before sunset so I decided to be clever and go home on a back road, thereby avoiding everyone who was taking the usual route home to Willunga at the end of the day and driving carelessly because they were thinking about what to have for dinner.

There was a hill. Not the hill mind you but a hill all the same, up which I exercised my awesome cross-training skills and walked. While I was walking up the hill a Lycra Lad pedaled past on his road bicycle, making the hill look like no big deal. I ignored him as best I could which wasn't difficult as he disappeared over the crest of the hill while I was taking a break from cross-training. Barely had I started again when lo and behold, along came a schoolgirl in full uniform plugging up the hill on a clapped-out Kmart bicycle. I stood to the side and let her go past. At least she had the grace to make it look difficult and in fact there were a couple of moments where she looked like she was about to start cross-training too but nope, she regrouped each time and pedaled on.

There she is, way up there making it look do-able if you just keep on pedaling.  This is the tunnel  under Victor Harbor Road which is almost at the top of the Not-The-Willunga-Hill.

 

There was a fantastic view from the top, and then an even more fantastic downhill which made all the cross training worthwhile. Then came all that 'flat' riding which was really downhill as well. I was fairly hooting along. I went so fast that I had to stop and put on my rain jacket to keep myself warm. Then I had to stop and take photographs of almond blossoms.

And olive groves.

And vineyards. While the almond trees had well and truly woken up for spring, the grape vines were still waiting for the memo. 

Not a leaf to be seen.

 

What with all the stopping and photographing and photographing and stopping, I ended up racing the sunset to get home.

Evening shadows on vineyards.

Racing the sunset wasn't a bad thing because it meant I got to use my brand new dynamo lights on my brand new bike. I like having lights. It's nice to be able to see when the sun goes down and the moon is being tardy about showing up.

In case I haven't mentioned it before, I like my new bike.

Blossoms.