Don't ride this route.

Or: The time I found a camel in the Adelaide Hills

A short ride. Bring a towel and bathers, just in case. A bottle of water should be enough.

It feels like a good way to start a ride that gets away from you a bit, and ends up being absolutely magnificent. But I still wouldn't recommend it - more on that.

It started as a cruise towards the North Eastern 'burbs, knowing that I wanted to ride along Linear Park for a bit. Winding through the suburban streets, talking to people (usually about my "weird" bike) as I stopped to take photos of classic cars in front yards, nice trees, fun stickers, good views.

As I kept riding, the urge to look around the next bend grew. And the next. And the next. And before I knew it I was riding up the eastern end of Grand Junction Road. And then through the round-about and onto Lower North East Road. I toyed with the idea of riding through Anstey Hill. Tried it. Turned back, and kept going up Lower North East Road.

At this point, I was getting a bit nervous about the cars and trucks I share the road with. With the tight corners, I feel like a bit of a sitting duck in the gutter of a blind corner.

As it turned out (because I have plot-armor), I was fine. The only car that overtook in a way that felt uncomfortable was a police car. Definitely not more than 1.5 metres, but not that big a deal.

By the time I turned off Lower North East Road, I was out of water. The worst of it was done - I'd done the climb - but I was thirsty. It was sunny. With all the houses along Churchett Road, there was bound to be a front-yard with a tap.

I found a guy cutting a new window in his house. Angle-grinder shrieking. Radio blaring - it was Gunners, I reckon. Welcome to the Jungle. In the middle of the slowly moving dust cloud was a guy. Thongs. Jeans. Singlet. No hearing protection. No eye protection. And, probably at this stage most importantly, no dust mask.

I loudly announced myself, and asked if I could top up my water bottle when I finally got through, I assume, tinnitus the volume of a Dinosaur Jr concert.

The water was good. Rainwater, I reckon. I drank a bottle standing there, and topped up again for the remainder of the ride.

Now is when it gets a bit interesting. There was definitely a track on the map at the end of Churchett Road. All the way to Gorge Road. Unpaved, but a track on a map. In fairness, there was a track, but it was definitely not a "road". And it certainly was not Churchett Road any more.

When I got to the bottom (I'm glad I've got half decent brakes on the Omnium), I found myself riding through a construction site, road building taking place and then finally onto a path that I could see would take me out to Gorge Road.

I look up to my left, pretty knackered at this point and on top on an embankment, in amongst the trees is a camel. A real, life, tall, fucking camel. I was completely stunned. Then it camel-noised at me and started towards me, down the bank.

I ride off, absolutely confused, scared, and thrilled all at the same time. I get to a gate that fortunately is not locked. I unhitch the latch, bring my bike through, and the camel stands there, in the middle of the track, looking at me.

The main reason I say that this route is one I wouldn't recommend, is that at this point I found myself behind a locked, very heavy duty gate. I throw my bike over the gate, and see the SA Water sign. No entry. No trespassing.

Anyway. I was on Gorge Road now, and things were going to be easy. I stopped off at one of my favourite spots on the Torrens for a dip, then cruised home - stopping only to grab a custard tart from a bakery on the way.

A good day on the bike.