Peddle power

When we decided to go for a bike ride, I don’t think we expected to be out for 5 hours.
With only a couple of bananas and a few oranges that we grabbed of the tree; we didn’t really have the “supplies” we needed for the mini adventure we had just embarked on.

Bernia ride


As we pushed our bikes through the dry river bed, we were warmed by the sun that was playing hide and seek between the mountain tops. At first I think we envisioned a leisurely ride along some beauty trails – stopping occasionally to enjoy the incredible views that surrounded us. That vision was short lived to say the least. It was more like lugging our bikes up and down the side of a mountain.

The trails had a lot of loose boulders covering them which made it way to hard to actually ride our bikes. Instead, we pushed and pulled our bikes until we were able to get to a point in the trail that was actually rideable. We would hop on, peddle for a few meters and then resort to pushing some more.
In between gasping for air and wondering if our legs were going to drop off, we’d look up and admire where we were. Slowly making our way around the base of the Bernia.

As we continued along the unmarked trail we could see our halfway mark. The amazing old ruins on a small peninsula. We first saw the ruins when we were  hiking along the ridge of the Bernia. The view from up there compelled us to one day try and get there on foot…which probably would have been a lot easier than doing it with the bikes.
With a few ladylike grunts of determination we continued on.

Nearly falling off our bikes only a few times; we peddled the last 100m to the ruins. Cue rocky theme music – WE MADE IT! We all but dumped ourselves off our bikes and looked back at the distance we had covered. We had already come such a long way and we were only halfway through our ride.
Throwing our bodies into the grass we let the sun beat down on us.

IMG_4969Resting in the mountains where the wind sounded like the ocean and the sky hadn’t a single imperfection. Simply put, it was pure bliss. Smiles stretched across our faces as we sat in complete silence.
After we were sure our legs still worked we decided to head down the other side. You know how people say, “it’s all downhill from here”…well we wished it was. Going down was just as hard as going up! Trying our best not to barrel roll off our bikes we once again were walk-riding our bikes back to the bottom of the mountain. I think I can speak for ourselves when I say we were definitely crying on the inside.

Turn after turn we slowly made our way towards the dry riverbed where we would then start our gruelling ride back up to the main road. Taking small breaks and giving one another mini pep talks as we moved along; we were getting closer to the top.
After a couple of hours of 100% uphill death, the last pull was in front of us. It was one of those, “go on without me!” moments. Encouraging one another with the promise of water and more importantly beer, we sighed our way to the road.

Sweat running down our faces tracing our laugh lines – we finally made it. We didn’t know if we should cheer or cry but underneath our exhaustion we were smiling.

Smiling because we did something that was damn hard – but smiling even more knowing, “nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort.”.

In the end it’s what makes the good things great.

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