I didn't really learn to ride a bike until I was 12. I was a very unco-ordinated kid. If it wasn't for the perserverence of my old mates from Werris Creek, I doubt I would have learned at all. I cycled on and off through my teens at various stages. However, it wasn't until I came to the Gold Coast at 18 that I got into it seriously. The first time I rode Springbrook the first time it nearly killed me. However I stuck it out, made it to Purlingbrook falls (not actually the top of the mountain, but a significant milestone as far as I'm concerned), and took a photo.

That photo didn't work very well (I wasn't much of a photographer at that stage), but it changed my life completely. About a week later I had that bike stolen (yes, my effort last month wasn't the first). At that time I was unemployed with no prospects of finding a job, no money, and as far as I was concerned, no hope.

However, every time I looked at that photo I thought back on the memorable day I had riding up the mountain, and the sheer beauty of the falls. It gave me hope. The breakthrough came when I was asked to help someone out with some renovations - hard work for sh*t pay - but it bought me a new bike. I could ride the mountains again.

I soon found that I wanted to go further afield, and did so. Now I had a purpose - and my life changed for the better. From that point forward I was hooked on riding. It's taken me to places I would never have even thought of going - and it's helped me appreciate things I had never previously appreciated.

I now know that every time things are difficult in any facet of life, I need only ride Springbrook again. I will have a new perspective on these matters.