Yesterday evening drove along past the bottom cable car station to where the road is closed due to a rock fall. This is the first time I have been all the way along this road (as far as I know). I expected to be able to run on trail immediately, but there was still about 2 km of tar past the boom before I got onto the trail. Nice running though, with gentle undulations. Strong wind blowing down from the mountain made it a bit hard going at times. Once on the trail I was a lot more happy because these trail shoes are hell on tar. The trail is pretty rough: it is a very coarse gravel road. More boulders than gravel in some places. It descends for about 1 km before winding back and forth up to the blockhouse. Was passed by quite a few guys out on mountain bikes. The view from the blockhouse was great and I stopped to sip on my fermented juice for a bit before heading back down. Got into my stride and was really enjoying myself. Must have been completely dissociated at one stage because I lost concentration and was not paying enough attention to my footing because I tripped and carved a nice body furrow into that gravel road. Luckily my hands and knees broke my fall. ;-) Somehow ended up on my back, with the result that I was covered in dirt front and back. So I looked like I had been engaged in some epic adventure and I am pretty sure that everyone I passed on the way back thought I was quite a hero (bloodied shirt, dust covered backpack, grimace of pain) or just bloody mad.
The bath at Troy and Fiona's afterwards was exceptionally sweet. As was the bottle of stout and the enormous dinner of pizza and pasta.