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It’s called “Running the Cross”, or simply “The Cross”. It is dangerous.

I’ve been here before. It’s a small town in South Australia where twelve rail lines merge, an east-west alignment of freight trains travelling from various states. Once every few months, the timetables align and twelve trains converge in a slightly staggered pattern. For the few that are fast enough, strong enough, determined enough, or just plain crazy enough, this is the place to test your mettle. No-one will stop you, except the trains.

The Cross had gained a level of notoriety in running circles, even attracting some big-name Olympic athletes to the dusty town. I’m not an Olympian, but I share a place with those who have completed The Cross.

One Olympic aspirant had made the town, and Running the Cross, infamous on a sunny afternoon one July. There are two paths you can choose: the first is…

Ok, I know that many of you will consider the whole Melbourne Cup scene an example of the worst excesses of Western decadence, but to show you that I don’t have to always attack the rich and famous, here are my Cup predictions:

1. The Commentary Team will talk about how lucky they’ve been with the weather.
2. Someone off a Channel 7 show will be asked to give you a tip, which will be one of the favourites. It will lose badly.
3. Race 1 will be won by a very young horse. They will tell you that it was a very cheap buy. Most people won’t realise that they could have bought a very expensive car for the same amount of money.
4. At some point in the day, they will interview the groundsman about how he gets the roses looking so lovely. He will resist the temptation to tell them by…