There are some days when it would just be criminal not to be on the bike, and Sunday was one of them.  It had everything going for it.  It was sunny.  There was virtually no wind.  And, since I was cycling with Dad on his turf, the roads were, if not new to me, at least not totally familiar.  Tick, tick, tick.  That was me ticking check boxes, in case you were wondering.  Not a time bomb.  Or an approaching crocodile.

Having been away over night, a bright sunny, but clearly chilly Sunday morning dawned at our Premier Inn.  I put on every item of clothing I’d taken with me, and hoped that would be enough, as I already have a stinking cold.  As the temperature drops, the layers mount.  Longs, long socks, l/s thermal base layer, l/s top, arms, buff, and overshoes.  The overshoes proved annoyingly difficult to zip up but I’m hoping that’s just because they’re brand new, and that they’ll stretch, as the old pair weren’t quite so difficult and my calves aren’t that big!  My new Aldi l/s thermal base layer proved surprisingly lovely and snuggly which was a result.  Yes – I got the clothing right.  *phew*.  And, since the rest of me was warm enough, I got away with wearing mitts instead of gloves as well – ‘rah!

We arrived at my folk’s place, and I relieved them of coffee and toast, aka fuel.  Then Dad took me on a nice fairly flat route round the back roads of the Gordano valley – a guided tour around his patch.  Of course there are downsides to such routes.  Firstly what little traffic there is drives like there’s no traffic… and secondly there’s entirely too much agriculture going on, making for some very muddy/gritty sections for which you have to slow down and thus trash your average speed.  It’s either that or slip and skid around precariously…  However, other than that, it was totally glorious out there.  Clear skies, crystal clear views, sun that still had some warmth in it, lots of other road users to exchange “morning” with – roadies, horses, odd people on mtbs…  One of those mornings when all is well with the world.  Unless you’re jogging, by the look of it.  Or is there a by-law banning simultaneous smiling and jogging?  Considering that the majority of those engaging in such a foolhardy activity were men, maybe it’s a failure to multi-task thing… 😉

Dad kept it the route pretty much flat for me, in deference to the knee, which was great.  It started twingeing about 45 minutes in, which worried me a bit.  So I kept an eye on it, so to speak, and made a point of twisting my left foot outwards a bit and backwards a bit, as recommended by my sports phsyio.  It definitely helped.  So much so that the knee pretty much ceased to be a problem and when it came to deciding the route back from the prettiness of Kingston Seymour, we took in the seafront at Clevedon and the hill out the other side.  This went well.  Even the downhill the other side went well.  Maybe I’m getting better at this hill thing? Ok, it’s unlikely…  😛

We got to the beginning of the coast road back to Dad’s house, and started the long climb up.  A little way ahead of us was a deceptively slow moving rabbit.  With mudguards.  And it would be wrong not to reel that in, right?  So we did, and finally overtook him by the golf course.  Feeling good about my knee, I decided to push it from there and see how fast I could get up the hill and back “home”, safe in the knowledge that even if the knee went, I wouldn’t be far from solace.  So I dropped Dad (sorry Dad!), and headed off…  Back, past the gorgeous shallow palette views across the Severn, up the ups and down the downs, to arrive in one pretty much pain-free piece.  Fan-tastic!

Cycling time: 2:14:06
Distance: 33.03 miles
Avs: 14.7 mph
ODO: 6261 miles

Now that was a good ride.  Which definitely makes up for Wednesday’s crap ride.  I’ve got a *grin* just writing about it.  And I’d almost forgotten I had a cold by the end of it too.  I can’t wait to see how the ride feels with new wheel bearings, new headset, and new brake callipers.  It’s gonna be great.  Man, I love my bike :D.

Sunday was the gym.  Monday was a day of rest.  And no, I don’t have those two around the wrong way.  Tuesday was the gym.  Which means that today was really due to be a ride day.  It didn’t look exactly lovely out there, but as it wasn’t blowing a gale or raining, I was short on excuses.  Besides which, as my knee has been feeling quite a bit better, I was a little curious as to how it was going to feel on the bike.  On the bike is also a good place for thinking, and I’ve been meaning to do some of that.

I picked a route that was as flat as can be, and wrapped up a bit warmer than so far this winter.  The first 3/4 of an hour or so was pretty good.  Flat – so fast.  Chilly, but the speed meant that I was pumping enough blood around to feel relatively comfortable.  I was starting to think that I might have started to turn a corner…

Then the knee started occasional twingeing.  See, I’m not very good at turning corners *grin*.  But for the time being it was only occasionally, and therefore tolerable.  I had about half an hour of that, before it just started getting worse, and the laughably small hill up from Panborough set it going constantly.  As a result of the pain, I was now going slower too, and thus getting colder all the time.  I lost my toes, along with the will to live.  Only joking.  Well, about the will to live bit anyway.  Mostly.  Not about the toes though.  It was just so grey and boring out there.  Same roads as always, under a blanket of boring grey cloud.  I wasn’t flying round anymore, I was just getting home, which puts a totally different spin on things.

In my usual stubborn fashion, rather than come straight home and thus find myself having done less than two hours on the bike – quelle horreur! – I added the Nyland loop in to add some miles on.  I actually enjoyed the hurtle down the main road to Cheddar at the end,  along with the race down the bypass to get to the turning before the eejot next to me managed to drive me off the road…oddly motivational.  I’d have communicated with him in sign language, but couldn’t summon the energy and restricted myself to a Gallic shrug and some interesting thoughts as to how GB might have reacted… Mind you allegedly he’s learnt restraint in such matters.  Wise, but way less amusing… 😉

Cycling time: 2:06:53
Distance: 33.95 miles
Avs: 16.0 mph
ODO: 6228 miles

By the time I got in I was freezing.  I really should have iced the knee – I’m going to do that shortly – but I couldn’t face any more cold!  I have a body temperature threshold kind of thing, and once I get beyond that, it takes me ages to warm up again.  A bath would have been ideal, but not good for the knee…  Ah well. I had a quick hot shower, and took to the  sofa with a blanket and lunch.  And I’ve defrosted now.  Just.  Thanks to my thick winter Hello Kitty socks *grin*.

Conclusion?  The knee is not better.   And it’s time for overshoes…  And for another painkiller 🙁

Having done the sensible thing on Monday, and taken my knee to the doctor’s, I am now living on diclofenac, and have an appointment with a specialist sports physio tomorrow.  In the meantime, I appreciate that most “normal” people would be resting up but, well, normal is over-rated! 😉  It hasn’t been too bad at the gym, and the pain levels are ok – presumably because of the pills.  Having said that I am aware that it isn’t right.  It feels weird, doesn’t bear weight in the normal way, and after a decent walk, I have a tendency to limp slightly which, lets face it, isn’t great.

Today was the first time I got back on the bike.  With George and Mim who, for whatever blessed reason, weren’t going too fast.  Probably because they were too busy talking!  This left me either sitting behind, or out in front, doing my own thing.  Both places I am very happy to be, and where I can concentrate on what I’m doing.  I even went down a couple of hills and round a couple of corners better than usual, following some advice from bikeradar.  It was a pretty flat route, in glorious autumn sunshine, and it was very gorgeous out there.  For the first half an hour or so I thought I might have got away with it….  However the knee then started twingeing.  It never got to full-on painful, and I worked to favour it.  Once it’s gone, it really doesn’t like uphills but can be ok on fast flats, so I made the most of those to compensate.

I had been considering stopping the pills and seeing if it was better, but as a result of today’s ride, I’m currently thinking it’s not.  Instead I shall wait and see what tomorrow brings…and what advice I get, considering that the ACG are going up hills on Saturday.  I may have to bail…   Actually I ought to be sitting here with ice on it, but I forgot…

Cycling time: 2:08:32
Distance: 33.85 miles
Avs: 15.7 mph
ODO: 6162 miles

The bike is feeling really smooth and quiet and comfortable at the moment, and when it’s right…man, it’s luverly.  All in tune and everything.  🙂  Having said that, the front wheel wheel bearing induced wobble is worsening.  Sadly I foresee more expenditure in the very near future, but really can’t afford replacement wheels…  I’ve already had a new chain set, and Andrew now has my shiny new brake callipers which are awaiting fitting.  Not cheap.  Not as expensive as they can be.  But I do like the ability to stop my bike…I’ve got this whole self-preservation thing going on 😉

…I will not be riding my bike.  This weekend is a prime example of plans not coming together.  However, so far, things seem to be working out ok nonetheless.

To start with I was going to be cycling over, on my own,  to see hubby’s folks with whom we have Sunday lunch plans.  Then GB was going to hitch a ride for a bit, making it a more sociable affair.  However he had to pull out for family reasons.  Back to square one.  Still a Sunday square though.  But have you seen the weather forecast?  Not exactly conducive to arriving exhilarated after a nice ride, more to turning up doing a stonking impression of a drowned rat.  Last night I decided that discretion is the better part of valor, and however brave that might be, it would be more sensible to ride today.  So I texted Simon to see if he was around, little thinking that he would be, based on past history.  Shock! horror!, he was, and a new plan came together, which involved him, I, 50 miles, and some hill the other side of Bridgwater which we failed to make once before.  I posted something to this effect on a certain social networking site, and before I knew it, we’d picked up another (2nd Cat) rider! *gulp*.  All this by about 12:30am this morning, whilst consuming medicinal red wine.  (It’s the wrong time of the month – so iron out, iron in I reckon!).

You would be forgiven for thinking that this might have made this morning rather hard work but, unusually, I managed what passes for a lie in in this house – yes – all the way to 8:30am – which left me postively well rested and refreshed.  Well, something like that anyway.  Suffice to say I wasn’t suffering any ill effects from the night before.  Coffee and a pink pill ensured that I was properly awake, and that my knee, and stomach cramps, were placated.

I picked up Simon from his place in Cheddar at 10:30 am (how civilised is that?) and we met Mike at Sweet’s at 11:00am.  I happily sat behind the two of them, music in one ear, as we headed off via Burtle to Edington, and from there across unfamiliar back roads to Bridgwater.  I’d forgotten that it’s Carnival weekend, and so we had to negotiate the fair/market, which had closed off the road we needed.  We picked our way through gingerly, on wheels, but only in the same way as you use a skate board – pushing with one foot.  Which makes us no worse than your average pushchair, and a damn site more manoeuvrable.  Well, judging by the behaviour of the locals, they’d cheerfully have formed a mob and lynched us for our audacity!  Man, it was good to get out of there…

I followed blindly on, to busy trying to keep up to pay too much attention to the route.  I was eventually led up into the Quantocks, up Enmore Hill which goes up for quite a long way for quite a long time.  It was bearable, though might have been more so if Simon could have been persuaded to abandon me and let me get on with it (he couldn’t), so I did my best to keep the dribbling to a minimum and to get up with as little fuss as possible.  Considerate of me n’est-ce-pas?  Mike was found at the top nonchalantly awaiting our arrival, looking for all the world as if he’d been there for ages, even though he swears he suffered too…  Well, if excuses are needed, my bike is 3x heavier than his (at least) and I’m probably 3x heavier than he is too!  Whippet! *grin*.

The coffee stop shortly afterwards came as somewhat of a relief, especially as Simon promised me that was it for big hills for the day.  We sat outside in the sun and drank coffee and talked cycling – unsurprisingly.  After a while it was inevitably time to head off again.  All downhill…  To be fair, I didn’t enjoy the downs that we’d earnt all that much, as the roads were wet, greasy, and unfamiliar.  Well, ok, some of them were fun :).  Bridgwater, though negotiated in a different way, was equally hideous, as various eejots tried to run us off the road.  I swear there was a palpable air of hostility radiating…and again, I was bl**dy pleased to get out of the place.  In one piece too, which was somewhat of a miracle considering the efforts made to attempt to make it otherwise.

From there it was up the A38 as fast as possible, possible in escape mode, before coming back via Puriton, Woolavington, Mark and so on.  However my knee, which had refrained from doing more than twingeing on the way out went big time on the way back.  First of all there’s the pain.  That’s quite distracting.  Then when you try and take your mind off that and pay attention to what you’re doing, you realise that your breathing has gone all shallow and fast in response to it.  The rest of your body has tensed up, so the shoulder and lower back start to hurt.  And your performance (such as it was) goes to pot.  I was a tad gutted as I’d hoped to do my share on the way back, what with it being mostly flat and the slight wind being in my favour, but it wasn’t to be.  OK, I’m dreaming, it would never have happened as whenever I did get on the back of the pair of them, Mike just got faster, but I’d like to think I’d have tried!  We stopped in Mark and I grabbed a pink pill, but it was definitely too little too late, and I limped home behind them up through the Allertons, down through Weare and up the A38 feeling a tad sorry for myself.  Which is shame as by then the sun was shining, and we were a long way from Bridgwater – both things to be happy about *grin*.

Cycling time: 3:45:54
Distance: 60.95 miles
Avs: 16.1 mph
ODO: 6128 miles

Considering the market detour, and the whole pain thing, I think my average speed is fairly laudable.  Keeping up with the pair of them was probably very good for me, and it was great to go somewhere different.  I’m not even moaning about the hill – as I need to get better at those too (:P).  It was a really good ride all told – thanks to Simon for the route, and to both of them for not going too fast and dropping me completely.  It barely rained on us, the sun shone eventually, and it was a whole heap nicer than a ride tomorrow would have been!  Tomorrow is definitely a gym day 🙂

Time to find that masseur and see if we can’t fix my knee…  I can’t keep having to take pink pills to ride decent distances…

I was so convinced that it was going to rain all week that I’d written off any plans to ride.  However when I checked the forecast again last night, today was looking fine, which quite confused me…  I didn’t want to waste decent weather, but it wasn’t what I’d been planning.  Hm.  I decided to leave it ’til morning, wake up, look out of the window, and take it from there.  Well, that would have been all very well if there was a view to be seen out of the window.  Fog!  Which has a tendency to be damp with it.  However hubby had just got back from his early morning run (darn foolish thing to be doing if you ask me) and said that actually it was ok.  My well of excuses had run dry…

I wasn’t in a great mood to be honest – the change in seasons is bringing me down – but I was relying on the bike to change that.  And it did.  In fact with the very first down stroke, as my legs stretched out, I felt better.  It was nippy out – I was in my fab new longs, long sleeved ACG top, shrug arms, and a Buff – so I set off at a reasonable pace to warm up, which felt good.  Having conceived a route the night before, I proceeded to stick to it but vaguely, and made it up on the way.

First off to Cheddar via the quarry road, and up the steep road past Shahnaz.  Up more and along the high road to come down to Draycott and take the Nyland road.  I was glad I’d put my lights on the bike as there wasn’t much visibility out there.  Not that they help me, but they help me to be seen.  Theoretically.  Out to Wedmore, up the denuded road to Panborough, which I no longer recognise now that they’ve cut all the trees down there.  For varieties sake I took the second right not the first, thus spicing up my life, and went straight across the levels to Godney and then Glastonbury as usual.

Now I had been planning to go up to Ashcott and over to Shapwick, but that way there be hills and my knee was twingeing.  Tempted though I was to take a pink pill, I was fairly sure it wouldn’t cut in in time to make a lot of difference so instead I decided to go for flat and “fast”.  So, it was back down the main road towards Wedmore, through Westhay.  The residents of Glastonbury may be all very chilled out sitting on their ley lines, but those of them that were out on the road there were in no mood for cyclists.   I know someone who would have been shouting in my place…  This encouraged me to re-write the route again and to detour via Burtle to Mark, and put my head down.  Left turn before the post office to head for the A38.  Up the A38, minor wiggle through Cross, and back up and home.  Job done 🙂

Cycling time: 2:08:33 hours
Distance: 35.51 miles
Avs: 16.5 mph
ODO: 6067

Not as fast as it felt but then I probably wasn’t pushing it, because I was doing lots of mental meandering.  Like if Emma Pooley just won the World Road Time Trial championship, avs 41.km/h, in c 32 minutes.  How fast could I go for 32 minutes?  My cycling is all about pacing myself because I’m going to be out for hours…  Maybe I should find out some time?  Prompted by the latest scandal, if I took lots of drugs, could I win the Tour De France?  Possibly not one to be trying out methinks.  I’ll stick to legal recreational drugs.  Red wine anyone?

Also I realised that one of the things that I love about being on the bike is that it’s one of the few places I don’t feel fat.  Because it’s all about what your body can do not what shape or size it is, about doing not being.  Instead I feel sleek and fast….  Until I get to a hill of course.  But then gravity is more on my side going downhill…on the few occasions I manage to make the most of it.  Then of course it all goes pear shaped when I get off the bike and stand next to all the whippets 😉

I’m supposed to be going for a long one-way ride on Sunday but the forecast is proper grim so…we’ll see.

Yesterday, for the first time in what seems like ages, it was just me, my bike and, due to the fact that the sun was shining, my shadow.  I wasn’t in the best of moods when I set off, and unusually I didn’t feel completely better by the time I got back.  A bit better is better than not better at all though.

Considering that, as I said, the sun was shining, and the wind, though not absent, was better than on Wednesday, it would have been foolish not to go riding, as days like that are going to be few and far between from here on in.   Which would be why I popped by Aldi on Thursday morning and picked up thermal base layers and winter socks.  All I need now are some new long tights and I’m set…well, as ready to freeze my a*re off as I’ll ever be anyway!

I did my usual kind of loop, stretched to include the nice little back road to Loxton, and the wiggle back via Nyland Hill and the back of Cheddar.  It was uneventful.  Which in many ways is the best kind of riding.

I’m still trying to work on my cornering and my downhill (lack of) ability.  If I lean further forward and into corners I seem to feel a bit better about them.  It’s so frustrating.  I’d be so much happier if I knew nothing was coming the other way, as so many times yesterday I was just getting the hang of things only to be interrupted by someone inconsiderately coming towards me.  It’s no wonder I’m (over) cautious!  The light at this time of year makes it harder too – all that low shadow dappling everywhere potentially hides a multitude of sins – potholes, debris, and so on.  I should, as my mob tell me, “chillax”… but that’s easier said that done.

I’m surprised my average speed wasn’t faster as I was going pretty fast most of the time and it wasn’t all that hilly.  Certainly, across the Levels from Mark, I was flying along at well over 20mph, with the sun on my face, the wind at my back…ah, if only it was always like that 🙂  Sadly my knee was NOT having a happy day, but hey, at least my shoulder pain didn’t come along for the ride 😉

Cycling time: 2:09:50
Distance: 33.59 miles
Avs: 15.5 mph
ODO: 5904

Tomorrow is the Cheddar Cyclosportive which I was looking forward to but, since I’ve spent the rest of the weekend feeling like a piece of limp spaghetti, I’m not so sure now.  I’ve got no energy at all, and even hubby commented that I was looking rather pale which, considering his observational skills, is telling…  Ah well, I’ve taken my echinacea, plan on an early night, and hopefully by tomorrow morning I’ll be raring to go.  *fingers crossed* 🙂

I have to confess to being a couple of rides behind on the blogging front.  Too busy actually riding to write about it I guess! *grin*.  Hubby and the mob were also away this weekend, so I was having some me-time, which seemed to involve a lot of pottering around, and a whole heap girly stuff – epilating, face packs, painting of fingernails and so on.  All very lovely 🙂

So, with no further ado, I shall get to it.

On Saturday GB and I did our usual run to Glastonbury and back.  He’s hopefully doing some scarily hilly ride this week, though his life is not going entirely according to plan.  Lots of positive vibes and *fingers crossed* in his direction.  Anyway, the idea was to do a ride that was as flat and as easy as possible, which I was more than willing to do.  I’m made for that kind of riding *grin*.  That means no racing, no sprinting up hills, and no yelling at eejot motorists which, for GB, was probably the most challenging part 😉

Glastonbury was even kookier than ever, probably because we were there in the afternoon by which time even the most lazy denizens have found the energy to drag themselves out of bed to come and sit by the market cross with their guitars and sing to each other.  The cafe was full of people celebrating.  It was some waist-coated man’s birthday, and day two of someone else’s extended wedding celebrations, if my eavesdropping skills serve me well.  Elsewhere the promenading freak quota was way up there.  It must take quite some effort to be quite so deliberately dressed and coiffed and madeup all the time.  Which begs the question, is it possible to be alternative in Glastonbury?  We did attempt to have a conversation but it was hard to keep a straight face and not collapse into giggles…*grin*.  Truly entertaining.

Still, the carrot cake and coffee were good.  I don’t usually do cake when we’re out, but as part of my me-time I was treating myself.  The same goes for the fabulous (and fabulously cheap) flowers I bought myself at the farmers’ market that morning.  A riot of mixed dahlias that I’ve been smiling every time I see them ever since 🙂

We cycled home and GB attempted to help me figure out what I’m looking for, if I’m looking for it, in a job.  This mostly consisted of asking me lots of questions and trying to get me to work it out for myself.  Darn, and there was I hoping for a quick solution.  Apparently I probably need to start with me.  Which is probably true, but I’m a tad busy right now…*grin*.  Besides which, nobody is supposed to know that much about me so I’m going to go back to being shallow and vacuous now if that’s ok 😉

We were also very good little bunnies and did NOT race home.  Practically unheard of, and very restrained of us.  I expect it’s just because we didn’t have an audience *grin*.

Cycling time: 2:01:38
Distance: 34.03 miles
Avs: 16.8 mph
ODO: 5713

So, that was one ride down and one to go.  As I mentioned earlier, hubby and the mob were away for the weekend.  They were camping down at Wiscombe (nr. Seaton in Devon) whilst most of the Trotman clan tried to drive various cars uphill as fast as possible.  Now camping isn’t my thing.  Something to do mainly with having to leave the tent to find the loo in the middle of the night.  And it always rains.  So I was going to have the whole weekend at home to myself and leave them to it.  However when it was suggested that I could ride down and join them…well, call me a bull and wave a red rag at me!  It’s “only” 55 miles or so, and doing a nice long one-way ride practically counts as me-time, right?

However when I woke up at 8.00am on Sunday morning it was flinging it down, and a text from hubby informed me it was doing the same there…  When I checked all the weather forecasts, there seemed to be a glimmer of hope though, so I decided to give myself until 10.00am, proceed as if I was going to be going, and hope it cleared up.  I don’t mind getting wet on a ride, I just don’t like setting off in it, which I realise makes little sense but that’s just the way it is.

It took a while to get my computer to pull itself together and let me print out enough maps for me to feel I might make it to my destination and, as I cussed away in my little cubby hole, outside the weather slowly improved.  OK, so it wasn’t precisely summery, but when I set off around 10.00ish, the roads were wet, but the skies were dry, and it certainly wasn’t cold.  There was, as forecast, a nasty headwind all day which I feel, after last weekend, is only karmically just, so I’m not complaining.

It’s a fairly direct route south, and not a flat one.  First off was out to Wedmore and up and over Mudgeley Hill.  This would have been easier if the car in front of me just at the start hadn’t panicked about the traffic coming down the hills and stopped.  Getting started again just there is NOT easy, and I had to go up the steep bit not clipped in because I couldn’t take time to fiddle and clip in as the rest of the cars that had had to stop then tried to get past me.  Nice.  Ah well, one obstacle negotiated.  I stuffed my arms in my pack and carried on.  Next was across the levels and up to Shapwick, and then across to High Ham.  I could have avoided High Ham…but that felt like cheating, and someone keeps telling me that the way to get better at going up hills is to go up hills.  Mind you, as the rain started, I did wish I’d cheated…  I steam-trained my way up the hill – you know, when your breathing is so loud that it’s just as well that your mp3 player has just run out of batteries because you wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway *grin*.

I paused at the top to refresh the batteries and me, and reflect on the fact that I will be there again in two weeks, before heading down into a soggy Langford.  The rain was heavier and colder, and somehow sharp…but there wasn’t much to be done about it so I did my best to ignore it, and pushed on to Ilminster.   There was an interesting, and busy, dog leg sort of a wiggle to avoid the A303 (which seemed a good idea) and get pointing towards Chard.  I’d forgotten I’d been to Chard before, but as the unfamiliar became familar, I recognised the Church from one of my very last civic engagements.  So that was nice.

Life had become a little drier by now though, as I passed the “you are now in Devon” sign, it started up again for a bit, which amused me.  The A358 proved to be rather busier than I’d have liked though which made for some interesting riding, and lots of paying care and attention.  On my part clearly, not that of the other motorists.

I’ve been wondering about other motorist’s behaviour around cyclists – as you do when left to your own devices for hours – and have observed the following:

• those owning little red cars, possibly sensing a kindred spirit, are the most likely to go round me with plenty of room to spare.
• sports cars also tend to leave lots of space, but this is because they get to be on the wrong side of the road and pretend they’re taking the racing line.
• tractors are generally very well behaved and liable, when approaching you on narrow lanes, to pull over and let you past.
• people driving 4*4s and mpvs have no clue how wide their vehicles are and have usually forgotten about anything they might be towing.
• big “prestige” mark cars are nearly the worst, being intent at getting where they want to be on the roads that they quite clearly own and are the mostly likely to overtake at an inappropriate time and speed.
• everything they say about white van drivers is true.

At some point some p*ll*ck passenger did the usual leaning out of the car window and yelling at me bit.  I have no idea what he said as, even without the mp3, at that speed with all the road noise and so on, it would have been incomprehensible.  Really, what is that supposed to achieve?  I could have got cross, but instead I imagined GB’s reaction, smiled internally, stayed on the bike, and undertook him as he had to stop and wait to turn right and I didn’t…which wasn’t at all satisfying.  No.  Not much… 😉

I kept my head down and concentrated on getting where I was going in one piece.  Through Axminster, which is where everyone mistakes Axbridge for, and out towards Musbury and the right turn onto the A3052 at Colyford.  Oh man.  There is a hill there.  A very big hill.  It’s much much worse than High Ham, though maybe marginally less steep.  It just goes up and up and round and up some more…  The worse bit is 300ft in half a mile, which might not sound like a lot to you, but it sure felt it to me!  There was a bit 3/4 of the way up where stopping looked attractive…but the AA were dealing with someone who’d broken down there, so there was no way I was going to be seen to break down too – it’s all a matter of honour and principles!

Finally I reached the top, which flattened out and left me on the road I was hoping to turn right off at some point.  Which is roundabout when I realised I should have zoomed in further on the last map I printed out.  It took a while to find the right right turn – although when I finally got to it the event was signposted.  However I then got lost as I wasn’t sure where they were signposting was where I wanted to be, so in looking for that, I added another 6 miles to the route.  3 heading off into the wilderness, 3 coming back, following the signs like I should have done to start with and arriving at my destination.

“Have you cycled far?” asked the car park marshal?  I took a breath to reply, and then I remembered that he was a normal person, and that to him, yes I had *grin*.  No harm in a bit of showing off, right? 😉

Cycling time: 4:00:43
Distance: 61.11 miles
Avs: 15.2 mph
ODO: 5774

I wasn’t dry, and I wasn’t clean, but considering the headwind and the hills, I wasn’t too slow either.  I think you could say I was quite pleased with myself.  And I’d definitely earnt a pint of lager and a share of a portion of chips.  OK, so it was only Fosters (ick, bleurgh) but based on my degree of need, it tasted a lot better than usual!  Well, I hadn’t had any lunch! *grin*.  Odd though, thanks to the hills and the wind, I was tireder after this Sunday’s 60 miles than last Sunday’s 116.  Mind you, I prepared properly for that ride, not this one.

All in all – a total result of a riding weekend.  And I didn’t have to sleep in a tent once.  ‘Rah! 🙂

Minus my detour – my route is here.