If you'd asked me on Friday night as I stood in the dark and the rain, contemplating my pump and what metaphor it represented about the world, for my thoughts on the return leg, I would have muttered something about "getting a lift" or maybe something less pleasant?

Fortunately, we weren't planning on riding all the way back. We were cunningly chopping the flat bit out of the middle by riding to Chiltern, catching a train to Seymour and riding the 80km home from there. You might ask why we didn't think of that on the way out and that would be a fine question to which I have no answer.

It was all downhill to Chiltern - apart from the 5km uphill that no one ever talks about. The train was uneventful and, in typical VLine fashion, a little late and somewhat leisurely in its progress. The sun was out as we hopped back onto the bikes out of Seymour and we were soon out of town and onto the back roads. It was easy rolling as the sun sunk towards the horizon. It was quite a drag between Pyalong and Lancefield, the road twisting and climbing between these beautiful rock formations, the hillside dotted with sheep. You could almost have been in Yorkshire.

The reward for our efforts was a stunning sunset as the light finally disappeared and the long easy descent to Lancefield took us quickly to our original meeting place. We parted ways with Mark. Blair joined me for most of the run back to Woodend, heading north to Kyneton at Newham. He hadn't fancied the idea of being solo on Three Chain Rd on a Sunday night so took the slightly longer route.

I slowly passed the Holgate coming through Woodend, looking for a familiar bike and an excuse to stop for a quick one but it was quiet and I (sensibly) rolled home to the end of a cracker of a weekend.

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