Canbizarre example 1

"Canbizarre", its a new word I've invented since moving up to Canberra and having now experienced much of what Canberra has to offer. As to what it means, well, I'm not entirely sure yet, but I always think of it when I see something that I reckon you could only see or experience in Canberra. Canberra is full of ironic juxtapositions, contradictions and quirks. I have many examples, but today's comes from an event that happened to me this morning, though it is in fact the second time it has happened to me since moving here. This canbizarrity also serves as a warning to bike riders around Canberra, who think they're safe when riding away from major roads.

I was riding my bike to ANU, on a rather crisp morning (the water in the bird bath was frozen, which is a pretty good indicator that the ride is really going to hurt). I decided to take a more scenic route than the usual Belconnen Way (which is pretty busy), and so rode on the bike path which goes through "O'Connor Ridge", next to the AIS. It is also a reasonably forested area, and much of it is well away from road (although, the new Gungahlin by-pass being built right through the middle of all this should fix that soon enough). So imagine this, I am riding down a hill, along a bike track, through a forest not more than 2km away from the city centre. I decided to employ some tactics I had seen in last night's tour de france. I crouched down quite low, stuck my arse in the air, and catapulted myself down the hill. Its usually a quiet track, so I felt no need to have my fingers over the brake levers ready to stop (they were also hurting from the freezing wind). There was no risk of cars, or little kids running out - it was a nature reserve, so I had nothing to fear. Well, that's what I thought, until, about 10 metres in front of me, a very large kangaroo jumped out from the trees to the left of the track. Instantly, my defensive rider skills came to the fore: I shouted "oh f$@ck!" and closed my eyes. My bike veered off to the right, and I then skidded to a halt metres before impact with a looming gum tree, and a rocky embankment. By the time I had stopped, the kangaroo was long gone, and I was left sitting on my bike, facing this gum tree and wondering what had just happened. I only saw the kangaroo for a second, and that was scary enough, but I can only imagine what fear and trepidation poor old skippy experienced when faced with the sight of a rather large male in lycra bike shorts, catapulting down a hill towards him at a million miles an hours, with arse stuck high up in the air.

What's that skip ? - "oh f#$ck!" ?