I have come beyond the turning for the drover's road, I gave it a good chance but a rough, ten yard journey convinced me that it is a route best done on foot, one for a later day perhaps, I look back on the road I have travelled and, quite clearly, I have missed the rush hour!. Very soon the back of my ankles are getting bruised by the many gates I have to navigate and I come to a crossroads, if I go left, I go uphill, straight on another gate, to the right downhill. I choose correctly, I choose right. I daren't freewheel or the bike will run away with me, I have the brakes hard on which slows me down but not to the point of stopping me, a gate is approaching so I swing my leg over the saddle and haul the bike back. A perspiring cyclist is at almost 45 degrees pushing his bike up. We exchange notes, he has been this way before and he is surprised that I had ridden down as far as I had and tells me there is a worse bit to come. Foolish bravery is not my style to I settle down to walk the bike down, the road goes through a wood and the surface is mossy and slippery but I can hear the traffic on the road below. Not much further now. I hope!