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The first part of the year on tour felt like catch up for me. I struggled with 2nd gear while the rest of the tour raced away in 5th. By placing 17th in the 6*Prime Highland open (my best ever result), it would seem that Scotland is where I finally arrived
Its 3pm on Friday the 3rd and the time has come. The necessary pilgrimage to Europe looms ahead like some treacherous journey to Mordor. But like Frodo and the Ring... this was a journey bigger than both of us. So after loading the gear in (or mostly on) the hire car, we head to the fabled Margaret River one last time to pick up Ricardo Christie before tackling phase one… 4-hours of cornerless - if not characterless - highway to Perth.
I’m confined once again to the Virgin Blue Bowing 737 cattle mover, this time hurtling across Australia’s limitless Brow expanse towards the prestigious ‘Margaret River Pro’. You’d have thought the 13hour travel time would be incentive for an early night… you’d think. Instead, as the whining engine ruthlessly chiseled skull from my shriveled brain, I could only grimace at the warm ‘Virgin Blue welcome’ and $9.00 food cart.