I have a son called Ryan3. He’s nearly 16 years old and he is like a ninja at avoiding photos. This photo was taken in April and it’s the latest one I have. I was shocked when I realised this. I’m a Bad Mother. He’s the one in the middle clutching the marshmallows, which is typical of him. Any time there’s food in the offing, Ryan3 is there. The kid’s a machine.
Last year he wanted to go on the Great Victorian Bike Ride with a few friends, but for one reason or other it didn’t happen. This year he was determined to go.
For those not in the know, the Great Vic is a hellish thing where for 9 days bike riders pedal their way through country Victoria, covering hundreds of kilometres over the time. This year I think it was 600 or 7ookms. They arrive in camp, pitch tents, sleep on the ground, shower (or not) in camp site facilities and generally have what would be my idea of the holiday from hell. But Ryan3 likes a challenge, so he borrowed a proper road bike from his friend James’s Dad and he, James, Angus and Brenton have been sharing a tent and the whole experience. I pick him up today from Marysville. I can’t wait! I’m quite fond of him really.
During a drought the Great Vic can be hot, but pleasant. This year, it appears the drought has broken. Hard.
Ryan3 rang me on Sunday and we talked for about 10 minutes. He was chirpy, telling me all about what was going on. He said that the first day had been a bit yuck because it rained, but Sunday had been “the best fun!”
Monday, I was in the staff room after work and I got this:
* Doing fine, love you.
Thursday, after a week of torrential, drought breaking rain, I got this one first thing in the morning:
* I have had enough of great vic. I get the idea of it and it is not for me. Plus it has basically been raining the entire time.
Ryan3 is a master of understatement. On Friday morning :
* Camp oval is soaked and so is the tent.
Last night I got another phone call. It was sunny, so he was chirpy again. It’ll be interesting to see whether he signs up for this again next year, after the memory of the mud caused by 7000 people in the campsites fades and he remembers the good times with his mates.