In the bush

I spent some time in the bush of the Waterberg with my family recently. About 3 months ago I took up mountain biking and after some time riding around the very tame landscapes of the Kyalami horse-lands I was apparently ready for what would be the most painful and joyous experience of my life on a bike. Complete with helmet, gloves, padded brooks and (for my sins) cleats, I venture out with my very experienced and totally insane family... into the wild... never to return (unmorphed) again. 

For anyone who's ever experienced the joy of cleated shoes for the first time will understand the extent of the metomorphasis that took place that day. I'm surprised I ever managed to climb onto a bike again. As battered and bruised (physically and emotionally) as I had emerged, these are the moments that kept me alive...