A few weeks ago I emailed the usual suspects:
"To maximise our performance at various forthcoming atletic ordeals, it is crucial that we hold a brutal training camp in Rotorua sometime in September. The plan is to ride, eat, watch cycling movies, eat more, and ride some more. "
We achieved most of these goals, except for brutality, though Chris Money, who was suffering from an excess of lung butter, may disagree.
After a late start on Saturday, we managed a circumnavigation of Late Rotorua, with a scenic detour into the hills from whence we could see the sea:
Sunday dawned fine, but with a nippy southwesterly to help build character.
Money made a gallant, Captain Oates-like, gesture and took his malfunctioning lungs for a short ride whilst Gaz, Vaughan and I headed into the hills:
PHOTOS
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