Ride.

I've been riding my bike up hill and down dale around McLaren Vale.  McLaren Vale is close to the hills and the sea, so there's lots of places to explore.

I rode to Port Willunga where forgotten fishermen gouged caves into the cliffs, seeking a place to safely store their boats. There's a sign at the bottom of the ramp to the beach: "Soft Cliffs," it says. "Don't go near the caves. Rocks might fall on your head." Or words to that effect.

Just like everyone else has done, I went into the caves anyway. The cliffs behaved and my head stayed intact.

I pedaled to Lion's Head, beside rugged, crumbling coastal cliffs.  Despite my bravado at the caves, I'm not a very brave cliff top bicyclist: I walked along the bits where the path followed right on the edge of the cliff although we won't mention the closed path where the cliff had fallen away and I may or may not have walked along there anyway because the detour was long, hilly, and boring.

Ingleburn Creek forced me to detour inland, but I soon made it back to the beach at Maslin.  In 1975 the southern end of Maslin Beach became Australia's first nude beach, something which unfortunately, even 50 years later, attracts loitering of the nefarious variety.

I did not loiter.

Beyond Maslin Beach both Ochre Cove and Ochre Point made me work for my views, with steep sandy tracks up to the headland and stunning views across crumpled, coloured cliffs to the water.

Looking inland.

I walked.

It was worth it.

The colours of Ochre Point.

The final leg of my ride took me along the Onkaparinga River toward the Coast to Vines trail. It was fun: high enough to feel like cliff riding and wide enough for scaredy-cats like me to feel safe enough to pedal.

Big orange signs met me at the underpass for Main South Road. "Closed," they said. "Go on a long detour on busy roads."

Blow that for a joke. I rang my own personal chauffeur and went back to Moana Beach, where I sat in the sun and waited for my lift.

I think I'll explore the hills next.