When we woke up in the morning we quickly realised the same routine of the past and so, packing our sleeping bags, sleeping mats, tent and clothes away, both a little bit sweaty, and stinky, we smiled to each other and pushed our bikes out through a green field and back onto the road, happy, happy to be riding towards the coast.
It was beautiful weather, the sun was out all day, and I was sweating, profusely. A moment later and we're racing down a hill lined with giant pine trees and I'm freezing, shivering, and then the road heads upwards through tall everglades and its not to long before the tiny goose bumps on my arm have disappeared, sweat running down the sides of my face. By now I'm sure you've guessed it, down again, teeth chattering... it was one of those days.
In the evening as we got nearer and nearer to the coast we started getting excited about the world championships in Melbourne (mostly Geelong), so we found the most budget motel in Lincoln City, and tired from the longest day we've spent in the saddle for a month, wheeled our bikes into the tiny room and collapsed onto the bed.
After a whole lot of searching we found a French telecast of the race online (occasionally we could just make out some Aussie voices in the back ground), and spent the next few hours riveted to the tiny picture, desperately hoping that one of the attacks Cadel was in would succeed.
Sam and Shanna Evans are from Melbourne, Australia