Today was the Turkey Teaser, organised by Somerset Cycling, which after several days of hard living, I was slightly dreading.  I also wasn’t looking forward to the early start as we were leaving from Burnham-on-Sea sometime between 8:30 and 9:00am, and that’s about 45 minutes ride from here.  In a virtually unprecedented move, I sorted my kit out last night and got a properly early (by my standards) night.  This did at least mean that when the alarm dragged me kicking and screaming from the arms of Mr Sandman at 6:45am, I’d had a decent night’s sleep.

I nearly didn’t make it at all.  I left the house as planned to meet GB down at Cross, only to discover that my front wheel wasn’t going around.  Having one’s wheels go around is a fairly integral part of cycling, so this was not a good start.  Normally hindered revolution is down to the brakes, but this time it looks like it’s the wheel bearings.  I dragged a very reluctant hubby down to help me out  and he efficiently (and remarkably uncomplainingly) swopped the winter tyre on to the summer wheel, put the summer wheel on, and I was on my way again, albeit about 20 minutes behind schedule.  GB had come down to my place to wait for me, so we headed off the most direct route possible down the A38.  And it was miserable.  Not so much cold, but dark, windy, wet and just sort of relentless.  Wet under tyre, wet over head, wet everywhere.  If I’d know rain was forecast for today I’m fairly sure I’d have stayed in bed and visited the warm dry gym instead!

We made it to the café in time, and met up with a whole group of other riders.  By now, though my torso remained fairly dry, the rest of me was not, and was in fact soaked through already.  Not the greatest of starts, and it was good to get underway and have half a chance of getting warm again.  We committed what is occasionally viewed as a cardinal sin by retracing our steps straight back up the A38 as far as the Weston exit, where we detoured to go across the flat and up past the Webbington.  It was infinitely more pleasant riding now that it was a little drier, and we were in a group with the wind behind us.  Now clearly this is our home turf, so we knew where we were going and we took our turn on the front, chatting away, and were happily making our way from A to B, when we were actually asked to slow down, with a gentle reminder that some people like to have a chat and catch up whilst riding and they couldn’t at our pace.  Not sure that’s ever happened before!  *grin*.  Fine by me – I knew they’d all drop me and fly past the minute we hit the Webbington hill and I wasn’t wrong!  I can hold my own on the flat, but gradients I still do more slowly than your average club rider.

We went past Axbridge, where I resisted the temptation to bail, through Cheddar and then round narrow roads of the Nyland loop in a fairly tight pack.  Up ahead I spied a horse and dog and was about to yell the usual type of warning, when some of the pack slowed ahead, and the guy in front of GB slowed suddenly without warning.  They clashed, and both ended up on the floor – GB on his LHS on the muddy (and therefore soft) verge, and the other rider on his RHS on the road.  For a brief instant I came close to going over him and joining them both on the deck but luckily I managed to pull up and sideways in time and didn’t.  The other rider completely went off on one – swearing at the pair of us for talking too much and not paying enough attention etc., etc.    GB was very apologetic and conciliatory but he wasn’t having any of it, threw all his toys out of the pram, and stormed off home on his bike.  Not once did he check GB was ok, though we had asked if he was.  Too busy throwing his little tantrum, for which we found out later he is renowned.  Interestingly when GB commented that he hadn’t heard any warning (riders usually yell “slowing” in such situations) he kind of ignored that.  That would be because he hadn’t given one!  Plus if you don’t like people talking on rides, then go stick to club rides.  Not an after Christmas sociable coffee run ride.  I don’t need to pay too much attention to those roads either, I cycle down them twice a week or so!  However pointing any of these things out would only have inflamed the situation so I kept my mouth (uncharacteristically) shut.  To have that kind of reaction he’d clearly been fuming inside about us talking, the ride not being to his taste etc., for quite some time.  Ah well.  More and most importantly GB was essentially ok.  Muddier than he’d started out, but in one piece, with the bike intact too.  However both the accident and especially that rider’s overreaction had kinda taken what little shine there was off the ride.

Having let the rest of the group go ahead while we tried to sort out the situation, we set off again, with a few behind us who had also stayed to help, to try and catch them.  It’s always hard setting off again, and it’s worse when you’ve lost what warmth you had and you’re wet and cold.  We headed off to Wedmore but then couldn’t decide which way the main group would have gone so waited for the few behind us so at least we’d be going the wrong way together!  Yes, more waiting around.  Sadly even once re-united and going in the same direction, we dropped them pretty quickly as we went over Mudgeley Hill, and as we headed towards Sweets in the driving rain (yes, it was back again) I had kind of decided that if they were open I’d be stopping there….  Sadly they weren’t and besides the main group was waiting at the turning just ahead.  We headed off towards Street, via Godney, but as we cycled along I realised I wasn’t enjoying myself, and that there was really no point doing it if I wasn’t.  I was getting colder, and wetter, and going further away was just increasing the distance I was going to have to cycle home against the wind and into the rain.  B*gger that for a game of soldiers I thought.  Sometimes it’s best to just quit while you’re ahead.  Or at least not too far behind.  GB agreed, and as the peloton turned right towards Glastonbury, we turned left, turned tail, and headed for home.

Part of the problem is that it was such a bitty ride.  Various stopping to pick up extras and let stragglers catch up, as well as sorting racing incidents.  Sections that were too slow so that I got cold just cruising along.  Sections that were too fast so I had to push to keep up, though admittedly not very many of those.  With wind, rain, mud…  It was a ride made up of people from various different cycling groups, so it wasn’t a very cohesive group, and apart from talking to GB, it wasn’t turning out to be all that sociable either, which was possibly a result of the dismal weather.  Riding home with GB was a massive improvement because mostly we work well together, take our turns, put the world to rights, and have a fairly similar speed, so I managed to warm up a little.  However by this point he was clearly suffering, partially due to not having been on the bike for a while, but almost certainly also due to his accident – I think shock was cutting in.  I dropped him several times on the way home, without wanting or meaning to.  It’s hard at the front sometimes.  If you look over your shoulder too often it looks like you’re asking for the rider behind to take a turn at the front, but if you don’t look, you discover you’ve dropped ’em!

After all that it was a relief just to get home.  GB took the direct route up the bypass just to get back asap, as delayed shock cut in and he got the shakes.  Nothing may have been actively painful as yet, but I bet he’s a little sore tomorrow.  I have a little experience of such things ;).

Cycling time: 2:57:31 hrs
Distance: 49.23 miles.
AVS: 16.7 avs.
ODO: 11499 miles

On the upside, and it’s the only one I can think of at the moment since I still haven’t warmed up properly, I didn’t feel half as crap as I was expecting too!  Well you’ve got to find a silver lining right?  *grin*

Well it is now that I’ve got a decent ride under my belt 🙂  It is officially allowed to be Christmas.  I’ve done as much damage limitation as I can.  Let the games begin!

Anyway I haven’t got time for a finely crafted entry – places to be, people to see, festive frolicking to be done – so please to be excusing me.  Bearing that in mind, I shall continue…

Social media seems to suit cyclists particularly well, and there was a general consensus (ie I’m not sure who’s idea it was initially) that meeting at Sweets today would be a nice idea.  Someone pointed out that Sweets wasn’t actually open, so someone else got all proactive, and presumably as a result, Sweets decided to open today between 10-12pm just for local cyclists.  How cool is that?!

Now Sweets isn’t actually that far away, so I had to get a bit creative with the route and make it worth my while.  Not just my while – as having put out a call to legs, DM decided to join me.  DM aka Boots, if you’re a reader of GB’s blog.  Being as how I’m keen on keeping my hill skills brushed up, such as they are, and considering that he’s a mountain goat, who laughs in the face of gradient, we started with Shipham Hill.  Well, it’s as good a way to warm up as any, and it was a bit nippy as we set off.  DM has not been well and was suffering a bit today, so we weren’t pushing it.  This makes 15:20 to the top pretty respectable, if you’re interested in these things, which clearly I am.  From there it was Churchill, Sandford, Banwell, Christon, Loxton, Mark and Sweets.  Join the dots if you will.

As we approached Sweets, down the final straight of Totney Drove, the Tor 2000 group went past us with, as DM put it, a whoosh of testosterone ;).  I did try and keep up but hey, some things are just not meant to be.  I may not have enough testosterone…  When we arrived Sweets was heaving.  Cyclists from hither and thither – Somerset Cycling, Tor 2000, the ACG, and many others.  Luckily there was quite a lot of flux so service was fast enough, the coffee was good, and we only ended up sitting outside by accident.  It was fab to finally meet up with some of the folk I only usually “see” on Facebook.   I won’t name you all because if I did I’d miss someone out and there’d be hurt feelings and everything, and it’s Christmas and we can’t have that *grin*.

quick, bring the van around...!

a bike with tinsellitis (*groan*)

Someone else getting into the spirit of things *grrrr*.

a contingent of Tor 2000

Coffee drunk, nice chatting done…, but the chill was setting in so it was time to go.  We came home the direct route – straight up Mudgeley Hill, down the main road, in fact as close to as the crow flies as possible.  At speed to try and get warm again!

Cycling time: 2:05:11 hrs
Distance: 33.85 miles.
Avs: 16.1 mph
ODO: 11450 miles

In case you were wondering, I was festive too :).

purple tinsel, of course.

Same Rapha, different day.  *grin*.  According to the weather forecast on Monday, Tuesday was my only chance to ride this week, before the weather went to hell in a handcart. You’d think by now that I’d know better than to pay attention to weather forecasts wouldn’t you? *sigh*.  However in this case their notorious inaccuracy worked in my favour, and last night it became clear that I might get another ride in.  Get in!

Of course this was all dependant on getting the family car to the garage, assessed, diagnosed and fixed, and back home again in time for me to get out of the house with sufficient daylight to spare for a decent ride.  That’s a lot of variables and a lot of ifs…  But priorities are priorities and apparently it’s more important to get the car fixed than for me to get a ride, so my ride was left in the lap of the gods.

Luckily it would appear that the gods were smiling down on me.  Or just too busy elsewhere to be paying attention.  Apparently 3 days before Christmas people are far too busy panic buying and stocking up for the nuclear winter that you’d think had been forecast to go to the garage to get their car fixed.  Not only were they happy to fit the car in, they diagnosed 2 knackered steering track rod ends and an oval tyre and fixed the lot without us having to remortgage the house.  I’m not saying a bill for £188 is welcome at this time of the year but it could have been a darn sight worse.  It frequently is!  All that and home in time for lunch.  In fact if it wasn’t for lunch I’d have been out earlier, but since I hadn’t had breakfast some form of sustenance seemed like a good idea.  That combined with the fact that Mim had suggested she might be around at 1:00pm for a ride served to delay me a little.  So I ate, texted Mim, let lunch settle, kitted up, and met her at her house.  I feel like I’ve done a lot of cycling by myself recently and I really fancied some company.  It makes a grey uneventful ride that bit less boring – grey and uneventful being two words that pretty much summed up today’s weather, although there was a nasty wind from the NW to add a little “je ne sais quoi” to riding life ;).

Today’s ride was a ride of two halves.  Or a figure of eight.  Also known as the best of both worlds.  I did a pretty flat circle with Mim, who had to be home by 2:30pm at the latest, and then I did a hilly loop all by myself.  Look at the photo and see if you can guess where my loop went?

Goats. Though I am informed they may actually be sheep.

Yes, that’s twice up the Gorge this week.  I am informed that my last post said that I like hills.  Which it did, but I think I should clarify that.  It’s not so much hills I like.  It’s setting myself a challenge and achieving it.  I like triumphing over a hill.  I like proving I still can.  And whilst I don’t exactly love hills, I most certainly love descents, and there’s only one way to get those.  As some bloke called Newton is alleged to have said, what goes up must come down :).  The award for the best descent of the day goes to Shipham Hill, unencumbered by white vans or quarry lorries, and all mine to go down as fast as I dared.

Cycling time: 2:19:18 hrs
Distance: 37.41 miles.
Avs: 16.0 mph
ODO: 11415 miles

Another ride, and a fair few miles.  I don’t think I’m going to make it to the nearest annual milage goal post by the end of this month…ho hum…but it was a good ride. Both my legs and lungs were working well, aided and abetted by strapping and pills.  It was great to be out there, and it was still lovely to be snuggled up in my Rapha winter jersey.  Grey and miserable is never as bad once you’re out in it as it is when you’re looking at it from inside your warm dry house, and there’s a lot to be said for fresh air and being outside.  It’s just possible that I should have maybe eaten more before I went out, as when I arrived home and got off the bike I became aware that I was more than a little woozy.  Oops ;).  I’m thinking a couple of restorative glasses of red wine may well be in order – purely medicinal you understand.  And it is Christmas right? 😉

My next ride should be on Christmas Eve when there is due to be a convergence of lycra clad escapees at Sweets, who are opening specially.  If you’re due to be one of them – I’ll see you there :).

Well I would be if it wasn’t for my bike and/or the gym.  Weeks on end of sh*tty weather, short dark days, long dark nights.  A combination of school holidays, time off in lieu, leftover leave, all meaning that we’re all here, all the time.  If you hadn’t gathered already, this is not my favourite time of the year…

Luckily today I got to escape for a couple of hours.  The planets aligned in my favour, the heavens held off for a while (mostly), the decks cleared and an over-caffeinated me was out and underway around 10:30am.  Having found a couple of hours free, but not having had the time to plan a route, I conducted an exhaustive survey of the household, and 2 out of 3 family members who expressed a preference told me to go up the Gorge.  It’s just possible they don’t like me very much… 😉  Anyway, who am I to argue?  Besides I quite like routes that I make up as I go along, and I quite like hills, and the Gorge seemed like a good start.

Did I mention that I have another new Rapha jersey?  No?  How very remiss of me *grin*.  Well I do.  Once more my Condor contact has come up trumps.  When a nearly new Rapha Condor Sharp winter jersey was looking for a home at a significantly reduced price, she tweeted me, and I snapped it up. 🙂  I am so predictable!  It arrived yesterday and let’s be honest, I’ve been dying to try it out ever since.  It’s half way between winter jacket and long sleeve jersey.  Since weather underground informed me that it was around 10C out there, so therefore not freezing, I figured I could layer up but not need my winter jacket, so that’s just what I did.  Layers – namely long sleeve base layer, long sleeve ACG jersey, and fab new jersey on top.  Layers, longs, buffs, overshoes, gloves…but not thermal longs, which is great because I hate bulk around my knees.

Back to the hills.  Which is why I brought the jersey up.  You see, I frequently see real Rapha team guys going either up or down the Gorge, so I’m thinking that being relegated to being on my back may mean that this was the slowest a piece of Rapha team kit has ever been up the Gorge *grin*.  You know the “all the gear no idea” thing?  I’m kinda hoping having all this fab gear will lead to a little of the idea rubbing off on me ;).  The jersey was certainly very comfortable, and warm, and pretty windproof.  It’s even got clever zip vents on the sides that you can open when getting too hot going up hill, and close when you’re on top of the Mendips and it’s back to chilly again.  How cool is that?  It’s also got an amazing array of assorted pockets that I have yet to work out.

So I went up the Gorge, briefly greeting KG who was coincidentally sorting out the outside of his shop as I passed.  It went pretty well, not too much like hard work, and once past the worst of it, pretty easy really.  Considering that my un-strapped and un-drugged knee had been twingeing from the get go I was expecting grief from it which I didn’t get.  I do wish it was predictable *sigh*.

Right.  Top of the Gorge.  Where now?  Well, my current favourite descent over that end of the world is down through West Horrington, so I went straight over the top of the Mendips to get there, via some the nice straight (ish) swoopy road, some very lovely views, and some cows.  Cows would appear to be becoming a feature around here…

Cows tilting at windmills

At the Ploughboy Inn crossroads, I turned right to go up the A39 towards the aerial.  Just up here is the Romulus and Remus monument that I’ve mentioned before but haven’t shown you so, because I’m nice like that, I stopped and took a photo or two for you.  I would explain it for you, but I don’t need too – read the photo yourself :).

Romulus and Remus and the Bike

the whys and wherefores

Time to get going again, and across the muddy shortcut to get to my eagerly anticipated descent, which was just as enjoyable as I was hoping it would be.  Gotta love a good downhill :D.  I pootled my way cautiously through the Christmas-addled shoppers in Wells and out on the Burcott road.  Muddy down there too, which slows a girl down, and mud is the real reason I’d been sticking to more major roads.  I got back on to the Wedmore road, and extremely familiar territory and engaged cruise mode.  Coming back was most definitely into whatever wind there was, and the Buff went back up over the chin.  If I hadn’t been pushing it a little I’d have been a bit chilly, so I took the hill up out of Wedmore to get warm again, and went past the golf course just to get myself to another lovely down – Weare Hill.  Whilst up on the top, by Ashton Windmill, the rain started…

Ashton Windmill

…but luckily it wasn’t heavy and I was very near home by now, so I kinda ignored it, unlike the horse box which overtook me too close, and then made me slow down at the bottom of the hill.  No ignoring something that size.  *grrr*.  And that was that really.  The usual traffic avoiding wiggle through Cross, up the hill, and then down through town the fun way.  Yes – downhill at speed :).

Cycling time: 2:10:48 hrs
Distance: 34.02 miles.
Avs: 15.5 mph
ODO: 11375 miles

This was not a deconstructed ride, it was a constructive one.  My legs felt good, I did the odd hill, and I got a few more winter miles under the belt at a time of year when riding opportunities are scarce, when belts have a tendency to slip a hole or two so there’s a distinct call for damage limitation, and when a couple of hours of me-time is to be grabbed with both hands.  Maybe that’s why I’m smiling :).

the cycling mayor in rapha 🙂

I woke up this morning to sun streaming in through my window.  Given that I was supposed to be getting up at 6:00am in the dark, ready for my Winter mini-sportive, this was not a good thing.  It was, as it turns out, 8:37am.  The start line was 90 minutes away, and I was due over it between 9:00 and 9:30am.  You do the math, as our trans-atlantic friends say.  Ah b*gger…

As is my wont, I took to the twitterverse to bemoan my situation, to be kindly informed that it was proper icy out there and it was probably all for the best really.  To be fair, although I wasn’t pleased about it, I wasn’t surprised.  I hadn’t really been feeling it last night – wasn’t excited, was lacklustre about it all – and I think my instincts knew it wasn’t to be.  I’ve been under the weather all week, with some sort of cold type thing, and my tummy has been unhappy too so I haven’t eaten much for days either – not the best preparation for a long winter ride.  But I’d have done it anyway – you know me.  However clearly my body knew better.  I never over-sleep.  I never lie-in.  In fact I’m frequently not all that good at sleeping at all!  So for me to both get an early night and to sleep for 9 1/2 hours is a pretty clear indication that something is not quite right.  The spirit was willing…the flesh was…well, the flesh knew better *grin*

Which left me with quite a dilemma.  What to do instead?  I couldn’t face yet another gym session.  Six in a row?  No thanks.  The thought of ice on the road sent shivers down my spine, especially after January’s little mishap, but the sun was shining, and I didn’t want to wimp out completely.  So I compromised.  Yes, apparently I can compromise.  Who knew?  Following an invitation to coffee by a man flu stricken GB, I decided I could ride for an hour or so a little later on, to give any ice time to go, and then walk up there and back – thus safely covering the two hour rule.  It seemed safer to be out on my own for an hour than for two.  At least that way in case of accident I’d only be half an hour or less away from home.  Although there would still be no-one with me to scrape me off the floor, this seemed less scarey at that distance.  I said I could compromise, not that I could be logical ok?

I put on all the layers I could, temporarily transforming from thecyclingmayor into themichelinman, and headed out around 10:30am.  I made myself a loop that mostly stuck to main roads (gritted) or those facing into the sun (melted), and to the flat.  I don’t mind climbing hills, and it’s a darn fine way of keeping warm on a day like this, but the idea of hitting a patch of ice going down t’other side was quite a deterrent.  So it was straight down the A38, across to Mark, through to Wedmore, back to Cheddar via Nyland, and home.  I only saw 3 other cyclists whilst out there, one of whom kindly advised me to watch out for the traffic which was apparently mental.  Having made the mistake of coming home past the hordes emerging from Cheddar car boot, I think he had a point…

Cycling time: 1:07:57 hrs
Distance: 18.93 miles.
Avs: 16.6 mph
ODO: 11344 miles

It was never going to be a fast ride, what with the cold, the wind, and the restrictive layers, but I think that’s a fairly respectable speed, all things considered.  It was also reasonably hard work, thus further demonstrating that riding 60 miles might well not have been a good idea even if I had made it up in time this morning.  But it was a ride, and after ten days without one of those, man did I ever need to be on my bike :).  And then I got to do coffee and cyclist chat with GB later.  It was kind of like one of those Masterchef meals where they break a recipe down into its constituent parts and reinvent it – a deconstructed ride.  All the usual elements but not together :).

Today may have been my first event DNA, but on balance I think it’s worked out for the best.  My FB friends inform me that everything happens for a reason, and that my body was trying to tell me something.  Maybe they’re right.  So I’m over it now :).

Outside my window waves of ominous grey clouds were blowing past at alarming speed and even through the double glazing, all I could hear was the wind.  My resolve wavered… But the twitterverse was behind me, so if I’d wimped out, I’d have had some explaining to do.  Besides it would be wrong to break the rules, right?  So I did some work, time passed, and out there started to look a little more attractive.  Time for Rules 5 and 9 respectively.

There’s only one thing to do when the wind is in your face, and that’s to head out into it, so last night I planned my route accordingly.  A seaside loop with hills – which meant starting by going up Shipham Hill.  Only 5 minutes down the road, just as I started heading upwards, I looked down and realised my pump was not where it should be.  Now I could have continued, crossed my fingers, and hoped…but I know better than to tempt the cycling gods *sigh*.  A quick u-turn, back to the house, one pump duly attached, and time for Take Two…

It was cold, and it was into the wind, and it wasn’t a whole heap of fun, but somewhat bizarrely my time to the top of Shipham Hill was 14:15.  Not my best ever but…my 2nd best ever!  To be managing that at this time of the year, in winter kit with winter wheels, is quietly gratifying :).  OK, not that quietly, since I’m telling you all about it *grin*.  On with the show…and round the back roads and out to Puxton, where it’s flat but pretty exposed.  Head down, into the wind, with a mind full of tacking, reefs, battened down hatches, and any port in a storm.  My nautical thoughts were interrupted by what is rapidly becoming the bane of my life.  Yes – more cows!

Yep - more stupid cows.

It took a while for the bovine road block to be moved on to wherever it was they were going.  Once they finally did, it was a case of once more unto the breach..but as I got underway again, who should I see coming towards me, amidst a flock of multicoloured MAMILs, but the Captain of the good ship Gandalf himself.  Also known as Dad *grin*.  He rides, they ride, I ride – the laws of coincidence say it was bound to happen sooner or later.  We chatted briefly, two ships that passed in the night, before they went one way, I went the other, and the nautical metaphor stretched so far it broke.

That was followed by an interesting footbridge detour on the way to Wick where the bridge over the railway ass closed and I had to carry the bike up several flights of stairs – all very cyclocross and probably quite amusing for the watching building crew.  I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to get the chance to build up some momentum!  Especially when I discovered that the worst of the wind was to be found at Sand Bay, where progress became crab-like, and the airborne sand was verging on the painful.  I never have been a big fan of exfoliation ;).  It was a relief to get up the hill to the coast road, though it was a good thing that I’d decided not to have a coffee stop as the New Castle was closed.

Sand Bay beach

Waves at Sand Bay

I took a quick break half way along to take a couple of photos and show you how choppy it was out there.  The Police may have informed me at some point along here that I did not have to turn on my red light but at this time of year, with low light, shadows, no light, I’m afraid that my little flashing red light will be staying on just to make me that little bit more visible.  Every little helps right?

Eventually I turned the corner and headed down into Weston with the wind finally and blissfully behind me.  Well, apart from the one random massive gust at the traffic lights that nearly blew me over…there was very nearly an embarrassing failure to unclick in time incident.  But I triumphed over adversity, stayed upright, and headed off at wind-assisted speed to Uphill and beyond.  As I went up Bleadon hill I could actually feel the wind pushing behind me which was unusual, and not unappreciated ;).  It continued to be useful for quite some time too!

Having had that mini hiccup to start with, and what with the hills and wind, I could easily have cut the route short at various places, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  A plan is a plan right?.  So once again I came home via Christon and Winscombe Hill rather than the Webbington, even though either route would have conformed to my nearly set in stone over two hour rule ;).

Christon church

Christon has a lovely Norman church that I keep meaning to check out – the arched doorway is lovely as you can see.  I’m a sucker for a good Norman arch *grin*.  Christon is also where our Christmas tree comes from – we go and pick one out every year, and ours is currently sitting in the corner looking very lovely :). Anyway, it’s one of my favourite routes home, especially with the light at this time of year and the clear views all over the valley, and then of course there’s that lovely down over the motorway to be enjoyed too.  It’s also easier done when the BW isn’t sitting on your wheel!  Then it was time to go up Winscombe Hill – which is getting to be a habit again.  Well, going up it all the time is clearly good for GB, so I figure it’s worth seeing if it works for me too *grin*.  It went much the same as ever, and my reward was the effortless (for which read wind-propelled) swoop down the bypass to home.  As close as you can get to flying… 🙂

Cycling time: 2:25:15 hrs
Distance: 36.72 miles.
Avs: 15.1 mph
ODO: 11325 miles

Not bad right?  977 metres of climbing apparently.  That and the wind will account for the speed, which isn’t that bad anyway.  I’m very glad I (wo)manned up and went out because as it turns out, I really enjoyed it :).

Dressing for cycling is a bit like Goldilocks.  Sometime your layers are too cold.  Sometimes your layers are too hot.  And sometimes your layers are just right.  Today it was just right :).  The wonderful thing about the winter jacket is that though the wind hits you, and goes round you, and pushes you, it does not go through you, which makes a massive difference to keeping warm.  It was the first time out for my new woolie boolie socks too, and they helped keep my feet toasty and warm.  All in all another good ride :).

Today is an ACG day.  It started with this morning’s ride, and will finish with the annual ACG Christmas do.  Anyone would think my life revolved around cycling or something ;).

In an 100% improvement on last week’s ACG ride, 4 of us turned up in the Square at a slightly later than usual 9:30am.  Bet some people didn’t pay attention to their email…  Anyway.  Me, GB, GF and the Boy Wonder rocked up, and debated the wisdom of our various layering strategies.  The BW was, as ever, woefully under-dressed – especially when you consider he has as much meat on him as a twiglet.  I pointed out that he has parents to nag him, so we weren’t going to.  In fact today’s biggest challenge may have been resisting the urge to say “I told you so” when he complained about the cold! *grin*

One of the wonders of cycling with other people is that sometimes the route is not up to you, and you can just let it all happen.  Today’s went something like this and was entirely GB’s invention.  I’m guesstimating, but am probably not far wrong.  Looks like 1132 metres of climbing – which is not to be sniffed at.  We started with the Gorge which, considering the cold and the wind, was a pretty good way to warm up.  As ever, the worst of the truly horrible wind was to be found up there on the top of the Mendips.  We did our best to avoid it – hiding behind hedgerows, tacking hither and thither, but when we turned left towards Burrington Combe there was no avoiding it – and we were really slogging our way along.  Just before our well earned descent, GB and I discovered that we were but two, and turned back to find that a spoke in GF’s rear wheel had gone.  After all that work to get up there, to get all warmed up, there was nothing for him to do but place a call to t’other half and beg for a ride.  Interestingly enough her initial response was exactly the same as my other half’s would have been.  “No I haven’t fallen off!” said GF… *grin*.  GB parted with spare layers to wrap him up as best as possible, and we headed off leaving GF to jog on the spot until rescue arrived.

Right, time for one of my favourite descents – Burrington Combe.  And it was as much fun today as ever.  I may nearly have the hang of it ;).  I kept a respectful distance from GB, as with the road surfaces as they are you don’t want to be finding yourself in a situation where sudden braking is required!  In fact I got two good descents today.  After plodding up past the Walled Garden, and wriggling around some interesting new roads around the Butcombe area, we got to go down Brockley Combe too.  We were going so fast we didn’t even really annoy the traffic behind us *grin*.  That just left us a final draining slog into the wind over to today’s coffee stop at the Strawberry Line Café – another new one for us.  It’s a community café – very nicely done up, very friendly, and an americano with some very good carrot cake only set me back £3.75.  Not bad.  And the cake?  Very good indeed :).

Luckily the majority of the miles were now behind us, as the thought of many more in that cold and wind were almost enough to keep us in the café.  It was most definitely cold as we set off again, which meant going a bit faster than usual for a while to warm up.  For a little while the sun even graced us with its presence, making it all that bit more pleasant.  We took the most direct route back – Congresbury, back roads to Sandford, through to Winscombe, up the delightful Winscombe Hill and home.  GB peeled off to go and retrieve his tin can from Weston, leaving the BW and I to climb that hill by ourselves again, as a little light rain started.  As we flew down the final straight along the bypass it became blatantly obvious where the wind was, as we hit 30mph without even trying.  Definitely fun :).  As I took my exit, for home, he went off to play silly games with hills, complaining of the cold.  No…I won’t say it….ooh, but it’s so tempting…*grin*.

Cycling time: 2:50:38 hrs
Distance: 44.32 miles.
Avs: 15.5 mph
ODO: 11288 miles

There – that makes up for those recent rides that have come up short, right?  I am totally loving my winter jacket and overshoes as I was just the right degree of warm today which no doubt accounted for me not finding it as much hard work as I might have done otherwise.  I forgot to take photos while I was out, so I took this one on the way to buy our Christmas tree a little later on, to continue the recent compare and contrast theme.  Yesterday Brent Knoll looked volcanic, rising out of the mist.  Today it looked almost biblical :).

Brent Knoll

Right, time to get ready for the Christmas dinner.  How will we cope seeing each other in civvies not lycra?! *grin*.  Possibly just as well it’s only an annual thing… 😉  I’m sticking with the cycling theme and having pasta to eat though – and I think I may have earnt the odd celebratory glass of wine :).

Finally December is here and so, it would appear, is winter.  To be honest, having seen this year’s first frost out of the window this morning, swiftly followed by fog as the sun rose, I came very close to bailing.  I even went so far as to ring Mim, but as she assured me there was no fog near her, and that her road wasn’t icy, I decided to apply Rule 5 – again – and get on with it.  It was the first outing of the year for the base layer and the Buff over head/ears – a sign of things to come no doubt.

I had a very small window of opportunity indeed this morning, and was therefore layered up and champing at the bit by the time Mim arrived, only a little late.  I’d left the route to her, and we ended up doing a fairly similar route to mine on Wednesday.  I didn’t bore you with it then, and I shan’t bore you with it now either.  Instead you can have a photo showing the view from up by the Webbington as we set out.

Brent Knoll rises through the mist

Sadly that was the best of the weather.  After enjoying the sunshine up there, it wasn’t long before the sun decided to hide behind a veil of grey cloud, and the temperature dropped yet further.  Even wrapped up warm, the cold crept inexorably inwards, leading to another first after our ride – that moment when your toes hit hot water in the shower and it hurts.  However as training rides go, I imagine it was fairly good.  Mim was away and there was clearly no way I was going to be allowed to get ahead today, so I had to put some work into keeping up.  Well, it’s one way to keep warm, right?  We even went over Brent Knoll and up Mudgeley Hill just to add a little spice to life, so it wasn’t all flat either :).

Cycling time: 1:45:28 hrs
Distance: 28.76 miles.
Avs: 16.3 mph
ODO: 11244 miles

Yet again I have broken my two hour rule, but hey, you can’t always get what you want.  I got a ride, and that’s the important thing.  That and getting back in time to get on with getting on with the things I needed to be doing.  The ACG are out tomorrow morning anyway, so I can make up for it then :).