Canada, Cuba and Covid 19

Today I was able to join a few others from the Ghostriders, for our first small group ride in several months. We met at Mullum Mullum Reserve to ride the trail to Diamond Creek. This was a ride we had done many times in the past, so we thought we knew the route pretty well.

Twelve riders set off from the start in near freezing conditions. In spite of my numerous layers of clothes, I was still still cold. I was so glad that I had brought along my long fingered gloves, or otherwise I am sure that a few digits would have been turned to ice.

There was a much more significant challenge than the low temperatures. It soon became apparent that every man, woman, child and dog in the district had also chosen to share the trail with us. Every corner we turned, we were confronted with crowds of walkers. I am not just talking of ones or twos, I am talking of large groups of people.

If the walkers were not challenge enough, the cyclists were even worse. One of the unexpected side effects of this pandemic has been a huge rush to the local bike shops. It seems that everyone has decided that they needed to buy a bike, even if they had no idea of how to actually ride the thing.

Maggie and I had already noticed this phenomenon on every bike paths we had ridden in the past couple of months. Whether it was at Inverloch, Pakenham or DIamond Creek, they were all jammed with hordes of people relishing their new-found liberty. The famous "Thousand Steps" walk at Ferntree Gully has had to be closed most days by the police, simply because of the enormous throng of people trying to cram onto the narrow walkway.

I could not but wonder how long this new love of walking and cycling will last. Now that we are heading into another Melbourne winter, will all these people still continue their newfound passions, or will they banish their new bikes to the garage and go back to spending all day on social media again ?

Even if it is only a temporary manifestation, it certainly has been interesting to see. As we approached Diamond Creek the crowds became even thicker. At one point there were hundreds of people gathered at the local netball courts. It looked like it was some sort of organised event to help teach kids how to ride their bikes. Children of all ages were happily wobbling all about, looking for a suitable place to stage their first crash. By some miracle, we managed to avoid riding into any of them, and we all arrived safely at Diamond Creek.

By this time the sun was higher in the sky and the temperature had soared to around 8 or 9 C. It was positively balmy in the sunshine. We ate our socially separated lunches while trying to solve some of the world's problems, before remounting our bikes for the return ride.

The crowds were just as thick on the way back, so we had to continually concentrate hard to avoid coming to an untimely catastrophe. We had planned to stop for a second coffee stop at Petty's Orchard, but discovered that the cafe was closed.

Apart from the crowds on every bike path, Maggie and I have noticed another manifestation of life in lockdown. In our previous lives, we used to go to bed around 11 pm each night. Since the start of the isolation period, we find that we are now ready for bed at any time from about 8 pm onwards. It is hard to watch nighttime TV anymore. Our body clocks seem to have become readjusted to a different sleep/wake cycle. I would be very interested to hear if others have noticed the same change.

Another, not so welcome, change that has taken place is that our weekly timetables have started to fill again. During the height of the lockdown period, we had no regular commitments. Every day was much the same. Now we have returned home we are already finding that the days are refilling with appointments and schedules again. I guess that is an inevitable result of life returning to normal, but I have to admit that I am already starting to miss those long unstructured days we shared by the beach.Leer más