All I can say, is that it is a darn good thing that Moana was a small town. Although the view was beautiful, a dark blue lake surrounded by mountains on all sides, there was really nothing there other then the trailer park we were staying at...except for the kind of people that stay at trailers parks every weekend of the summer like they own the place...think waterguns, screaming kids, weenie roasts, music blarring, etc. all in the name of being one with nature.ANYWAYS...as I was saying, it's a good thing Moana was as it was, because otherwise, Rob may still be living there. Settling down and making a like for himself, as his bike slowly became a part of the underwater geography of Lake Brunner.
Okay, so I wasn't jumping out of my sleeping bag dying to get back in the saddle, but my few hours on the spin bike must have done some good after all. I felt stiff, but okay. In Rob's words, he was "One hurting human".
Even though our rookies quads and tender butts protested, we hit the road right after breakfast (uphill again...hopefully this isn't a developing theme) towards Greymouth, only 35km away.
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