2017 – The Year of the Nostalgic Post

I must be getting old if I am proposing that I spend 2017 writing nostalgic posts….

I have been struggling to find the will to write, yet over and over in my head swirl stories of my childhood, my angst ridden youth and early to late twenties. Holding onto the title of ‘ Late Thirties’ with a mixture of fear ( for sooner rather than later I will turn the Big Four Zero) and pride ( that I survived this long) …nostalgic posts for 2017 it is….these stories must be told.

I loved writing about South Coast Cafe Culture, my friend Clare and I and our shared desire for cafe latte in the early 1990’s.

Got me thinking about another ‘episode’ that occurred around the same time. This time the adventure was shared with my friend Steph. A plan devised that would see us embark on a bike ride school and thus avoid the dreaded school bus commute.

A leisurely start to the school day, the bike track would see us peddle a concrete path that was shared with fellow surfers, joggers and early morning walkers with dogs on leads. We would ride coast side, passing pristine beaches Thirroul, Bulli, Woonona and turn off at Bellambi beach, heading inland to school.

As a somewhat reformed chronic over thinker, I would have planned this bike ride escapade to school for days, weeks, even months before the ‘ big day’. Before I actually enlisted Steph join me….which I would have agonised over too (Would she want to ride with me?! Would she feel like it? Did she even like riding? Did she own a bike? Would she rather roller blade of god forbid catch the bus?!)

I would have researched the weather forecast, studied the school timetable to ensure we would be wearing our sports uniform (not an easy task as we were in different year levels, with differing timetables) , planned the ride on a day when I was not scheduled to wash my hair, on a day that I did not have to carry my Visual Art A3 diary, my chefs knife kit etc etc etc.

The day eventually arrived…not to the sound of trumpets blaring and cannons firing, I simply got up.

Steph had said yes.

The sun shone, and our white and maroon sports uniform made it easy to peddle the distance.

We road past Thirroul, Bulli, Woonona and turned off at Bellambi Beach, heading inland to school.

The afternoon ride home….

I had not planned for this

My bike peddle fell off

‘ Its ok Steph, I can still ride’ I whimpered as I tried to keep my bike upright, one leg on the ground to keep my balance, as the other leg attempted to circle the intact pedal round and round.

This spectacle caught the attention of my High School Sports Teacher.

Because to all who saw me – it was clear I was not going anywhere.

Bike was placed into the back of a four-wheel drive, I was encouraged to sit in the front seat and I was driven home, red-faced and embarrassed.

Steph, free as a bird, continued the solo to ride home, along the bike track, Bellambi, Woonona, Bulli and alighting at Thirroul.

In all the over thinking, over planning and general worrying about a simple bike ride to school – I had not factored ‘ Pedal Gate’ into the equation!

As a gesture of thanks and gratitude to my saviour, Mr High School Sports Teacher, a lottery ticket was purchased.

As for me and bike riding to school – it was a once only affair, and half-hearted at best.

It would seem that I still had much over thinking, over planning and general worrying to do in my teens, early and mid twenties and, yes, my thirties to ever get back on my bike and ride to school!

The joys of being a chronic ( somewhat reformed) over thinker

Plenty more stories to come…..

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