It’s a long long time, from May to September. Or in this case, October. Today, my old chestnut looks like this. Back in May, it looked like this.
As clear a sign as you can have that the seasons are turning, that the nights are drawing in, and that we are no longer in Kansas. Kansas being in my mind blessed with blue skies, sunshine and warmth. I’m probably wrong, I’ve never been there. Please don’t enlighten me, I’m happy living in ignorance. There is a yellow brick road though, right? All ready for some kind of American Paris-Roubaix? No? Still, however many times I click my heels together, they spark a little but nothing happens, and I’m still here, in the middle of an English autumn, complete with wet, wind, and quite probably the wrong type of leaves.
On that basis I was not feeling all that motivated for this morning’s solo ride. The weather was looking variable, changeable, indecisive, and windy. The forecast wasn’t helping much either. My planned company bailed on me last night, being obliged to stay home with a sick child instead. Inconsiderate things children ;). But I need to ride. I’m not getting enough riding in, and I still have two sportives to go. Having bailed on a ride I really wanted to do yesterday due to the sheer number of things I haven’t managed to get done lately and really wanted to get on top of, I didn’t really feel like opting for the gym today was really an option. I refused to be benched by life again. And yes, I’ve used the American being benched analogy just so that I can use the photo I took somewhere today. It’s my blog you know, I can do that.
I didn’t have a route. I was going to make it up as I went along, depending on the weather, the wind, and my mood. But at some point last night it occurred to me that it had been a while since I went up Shipham Hill. And you can’t unring a bell, can you? Once the thought had been had there was no going back, because that would be bailing. Wimping out. Taking the low road. For some reason Strava doesn’t think I went up there. Well it does, but it hasn’t matched it to the usual segment, which is annoying cos that’s one of my benchmarkers. Still, I doubt it was fast. Did I mention I miss my very bottom gear? Shipham Hill is under-appreciated around here. OK, it’s not a Gorge, or a Combe, but it’s pretty consistently hard work, and today was no exception.
So, that was one hill under my belt. Where to go now? I’m going to have words with my little inner voice at some point. Of course that would mean that I was talking to myself, but on the bike I don’t suppose anyone would notice and besides, most people think cyclists are mad anyway, right? My little voice thought that I should do a loop around Puxton way, and back to Banwell and back over the top somehow. So far so good. But very same old same old. Very been there done that. And then I remembered there’s another way over the top. Darn that little voice! It’s Autumn right? Or, to be American about it again for narrative purposes, Fall. Where is the best place to see Fall, allegedly? Canada right?
Now math (still being American) is not my strong point, but some of you may have managed to put two and two twogether and figure out where this rambling ride was to take me next. Yep, Canada Combe. I’ve only ever been up there once I think, and down maybe a handful of times. Time had clearly dimmed my memory, as all I could recall was my last descent down there with Mim and Steve and I didn’t recall it being that bad. To start with it isn’t. I followed a large tractor with straw laden trailer up for while. The straw bales were brushing against all the low hanging trees, and shedding accordingly…it was like being in my own ticker tape parade! (haven’t stopped being American yet I see). He turned off, and the road turned upwards…a wet steep grubby road at that. Remind me, who thought that was a good idea? Ah yes, that would be me…
But as is ever the way, however slowly, I inexorably made it to the top, and just look at those views. Well worth it. Kinda ;). It was a bit windy up there though. In fact it was bit windy everywhere, but I managed to avoid the worst of it, more by good luck than judgement though, I think. Hiding from the wind by going up hills is usually a George tactic, not mine!
After the slog up there, and the descent down into Bleadon, the little kick over Bleadon Hill barely troubled me. What was troubling me was that I hadn’t really been out that long. Sticking to my 2+ hour rule is harder these days. I have to get back home in time to make myself look presentable and eat something before a 1:00pm work start. My window of opportunity is therefore small and I’m always very aware that should any eventuality come to pass, I could easily be late, so it’s hard to head further afield. Well, if it wasn’t going to be a long ride, I decided it could at least be a constructive one. Quality if not Quantity.
Time for another hill then, and again, one I’ve not been up for a while. Odd how these things go in phases. Earlier this season I was going up and down Winscombe Hill like a yo-yo, but for some reason it’s been a while, so it was time to do it again. It went quite well really. No records broken but it didn’t feel quite as hard as I was expecting it to, which was a minor triumph. From there it was time to have fun all the way down the bypass. All the way to t’other side of town to come back in from the East, just to stretch things out that little bit longer, as you do ;).
Cycling time: 1:50:26 hrs
Distance: 27.27 miles
Avs: 14.8 mph.
ODO: 892.90 miles
Now remind me, who thought a white bike was a good idea?! I really should stop listening to myself *grin*.
And finally…because it’s the 18th October and I hadn’t forgotten…
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!
🙂