And it really is.
The journey only takes about 10 minutes. After riding to the end of my street, I turn down a gravel track through the bush to the hospital. As Jason says, "You're practically mountain-biking!" Huge trees tower over the path to the left, and fronds of native grass brush against my legs. There are two wooden bridges crossing the creek.
I travel east in the early morning and west in the evening, so I'm always heading towards the rising or setting sun.
One Friday afternoon during the wet season I road home through a thunderstorm. It was a truly impressive storm. The lightening was so bright it hurt my eyes. I'd decided to take the bush track home because I thought I'd be more likely to be struck by lightening along the main road. But I hadn't really thought it through. One of bridges was in flood and I pedalled frantically across hoping I wouldn't be swept into the open jaws of a crocodile.
Much of the path was flooded too. At some parts the water was so high that my pedals were submerged at their lowest clip.
I hadn't considered the big open clearings between the trees until I raced across them perched upon a lightening rod.
I arrived home sweaty, spattered with mud and feeling extremely alive. Jason laughed at me.