It's the Mount Peel Mountain Bike Marathon. A seriously hard event - 88km long with over 3,000m of hill climbing. About 8 hours into it, I figure I must have taken a wrong turn a ways back and have ended up in entirely the wrong place. I'm totally shagged but no worries - it's a sunny day and there's plenty of daylight left. I cruise into a nearby farm house to establish my whereabouts and end up dining on tea and scones. Feeling replete, I then kick back in the long grass on the road side and stack in a few zzz's.
Whoa! I'm jolted out of r.e.m. bliss with the retort of a beer can flying off the blades of a rotary mower. I leap out of the path of the inbound tractor and mower only moments before becoming an integral part of the swathe.
Russ Taylor gets a close shave
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