Gary Sullivan from NZO dirtwear dropped into our place last week.
I knew where Gaz was before he visited: in the forest. I knew this because he'd posted a photo of two other mountain bikers he'd met on his ride online. They were at the top of Tokorangi trail with Rotorua as a backdrop.
Even if I hadn't been browsing Facebook, I'd have guessed. Gaz had that flushed, euphoric look on his face that a blast on a weekday afternoon will guarantee. Actually, not just a weekday ride, when you are skiving off work. That's the look after any ride.
The weekday thing is significant, though. Because we can all get to the forest in the time it takes to move a kilometre on a weekday afternoon on an Auckland motor way. So a ride on a working day is all very possible. Yes, it's easier for the self-employed. But anyone can whip out at lunchtime without annoying the boss.
Having that magnificent forest just over ... there, really is a privilege and not to be taken for granted.
Later the same day I sat at a conference table in town. Everyone else round the table was a mountain biker. That was the common thread. The age range was from mid-30s to early 60s. What we all do for a living was also diverse. I've been in similar business or social situations like that before. However, I'm not sure I've ever felt the same sort of common affection for what brought us together, that love of our sport and recreation.
The meeting was part of an on going process to establish a trust to oversee the Rotorua Bike Festival. Based on the brainpower round that table, it's in safe hands.
A friend of mine died last week. My brother-in-law, Steve, was an Englishman who came here 35 years ago. He loved the casualness of our country.
Steve understood why we moved from Auckland to Rotorua. But he never quite got our passion for mountain biking until he visited for the 2006 World Champs. He spoke fluent Italian so I talked him into being a translator in the media centre.
There was little demand so every day he reported to the volunteers HQ for on course duties. He loved it and every day came home wide-eyed from watching the breath-taking skill on show, especially in the steepest sections of the downhill course. Remember the Larches? He did. His language skills also came into play when one of the Italian team totally cased himself on that downhill, fracturing his thigh.
Steve was diagnosed with cancer just over a month ago. It ripped through him and mercifully the end came quickly.
It was a stern reminder to take nothing for granted.