Many years ago I decided that I would devote as much spare time as I could to charity. This was bought about in no small part by a vicious disease that ravaged my peripheral nervous system for 11 years. I was completely blown away by the support I received during my dark times (thank you Mary – your selfless dedication to the GBS Association is inspiring).

As I began to recuperate and regain strength, I thought a pushbike would help to build some muscle mass back into my legs. Having spent most of my youth on pushies, the decision was a simple one: I’d get a mountain bike for starters and potter around town rebuilding my broken body.

It took all of three months before a phone call would change things dramatically… “Wanna come and ride nasho”? The invitation to ride the National Park was met with some initial trepidation. Would I be strong enough to keep up? Would I be a burden on the group? Would my legs blow up in the middle of the National Park and result in my mates having to carry me out? I pondered these questions as I drove to the National Park, laden with my mountain bike on the back of the car (of course I would never consider not going). Read the rest of this entry