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Old roads, new eyes

Old roads, new eyes

Thought experiment: if you had to recommend your favourite local routes to someone else, what would make the grade?

Gruber Images, Iain Treloar

For the past six or so weeks, while my family has been on its annual European sojourn, we’ve had a housesitter staying. This role has typically been filled by a combination of family, friends and strangers off housesitting websites, but this year was different  – a lovely guy who I first got to know through the Escape Collective community needed a base in Melbourne for a while, and was happy to keep our cats company. Bonus: he’s the right height for my bikes, so they’d get some love during the winter months, too. 

The housesitting handover doc I prepared for Benoît had all the typical things: modern necessities like the Wifi password, how to turn on the heating, when to feed the cats and how much. But because the incoming occupant of our family home was going to be someone new to the area– and who liked some of the same things as me – I wanted to provide more than just the basics, to give a glimpse of life as a local. So, into that Google doc went a few more things: the best Asian supermarket in the suburb, the best bars, who does the best coffee. 

And then, of course, there was the bike stuff. Stuff like: handling quirks of the cargo trike (all quirks, all the time). Where to find tools in the garage (scattered chaotically all over the counter). Changes that I’d made to that old Cannondale since last time he’d borrowed it (crankset and bottom bracket that doesn't make the world's worst sound). 

But where would I suggest he ride those bikes? I’ve lived in this house for a decade and this suburb for most of my life, so everything on the bike is pretty familiar, and most gaps in my local knowledge were filled in during COVID lockdowns, looping around a five kilometre bubble. Rides on these roads were once – a long time ago – vibrant and sharp, but over time they’ve become something like sea glass: keen sensations and vibrant colours dulled over time, edges worn away with each tumble in life’s churn.

So, I set myself a challenge: finding three routes that represented the best of my local riding. The challenge within the challenge: to wind back the clock, and try to see the familiar through fresh eyes.

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