Friday morning, I woke before the alarm, nervous about my day, much hill climbing and 170 kms to my accommodation near Moran. I started riding at 6.30am, the temperature on my Garmin speedo was -3c. Four layers of clothes but I was still shaking as I rode seventy kms up hill, finally over the Divide and many hours of blissful freewheeling when my legs were begging for a reprieve. My mood was as up and down as the road ahead, I’ll never get there before dark was the morning thoughts to new-found enthusiasm in the afternoon as I whistled down hills at warp speed. I finally arrived at Moran at 5pm with a broad grin plastered across my dial but dog tired. A shower and three beers with an enthusiastic group at the bar before I vacuumed a large meal into my ravenous body. I was asleep at nine pm. I barely noticed it wasn’t yet dark outside.