Christ On A Bike

No, it's just me.

But it was surprisingly cold this morning. Yes, it's been getting colder over the last few weeks, but today was very brisk indeed. I felt a little under-dressed in shorts and fingerless gloves (and a top, before you ask...). I've been wearing a jacket in the morning for the last little while (all the better to pop my radio in the pocket of) but because I leave work at around 4pm I'm still in the daylight and it's been fairly warm too.

Today was a different story. The morning was decidedly chilly, so much so that my hands and feet hadn't warmed up by the time I got to the bike shed, and this afternoon was still pretty nippy.

Unfortunately, this means that the full finger gloves come out, I start wearing 3/4s and I get the Buff ready in the wings. Maybe I need some woolly socks as well.

Yes! A mountain bike route!

First time out on the not-road today. I can't remember when the last time was, probably Grizedale over a month ago. We met up with M&L who were up on holiday after their wedding and subsequent African honeymoon. It's always good to go for a ride with M as I tend to have to work a bit harder than usual on the ups which is handy.

Anyway as we had time constraints (fairly new baby, toddler who likes to nap at prescribed times), we did this route which I was at first a little dubious about, mainly because it seems a bit short. However it's a nice little run that took us an hour and a half from the carpark and back.

It's never a good idea to be in too high a gear up a steep switchback-y road at the start of the ride but that's what I did. Couldn't change down as I was at least turning the cranks so I carried on as I watched and felt my kneecaps pop off into the undergrowth at the side of the road.

It levelled out and became a lot more rocky and trail-like as I hacked up a lung, just in time for the descent down into somewhere near Loughrigg tarn. I quite enjoy rambler-slalom but kept it to a minimum this time for the sake of rambler-MTBer relations.

The route then took us back round Loughrigg tarn, up and through some woodlands then back down to Rydal caves (or Loughrigg quarry) which is pretty impressive for a couple of big scars scrapped out of the ground. I cleaned a nice little technical climb as well - I've still got it...

After that it's back down a cinder path and onto the road back to the carpark. I managed to remember to turn my Sports Tracker thing on my phone at this point which looked like this:

Just rewards included: cumberland sausage pie, a large americano, 2 scoops of icecream in a waffle cone (shared with P) and a browse in Biketreks.

Nice

I Never Did Have That Rant

I meant to mention the whole drafting etiquette thing but again, it seems to have slipped my mind.

Firstly, I have never been a roadie and probably never will be. I find riding on the road mind-alteringly tedious unless I'm in traffic and having to think a bit. This means that I haven't ridden in bunches (apart from that one time with the gingham dress, but that's another story...) and I'm not terribly familiar with riding people's wheels and what-have-you.

BUT...

I do know that it's rather rude to pull in behind someone at the lights or wherever and draft them without making the offer of sharing the work. To me it's analogous to hitching your car to the car in front without asking, or jumping on someone's back for an uninvited piggyback. It's just not on. I don't mind being in front and doing the work as long as the person behind does their share, or at least has a chat but I can't abide the sneak who slips in trying to go unnoticed and doesn't have the manners to even start a conversation. This also might stem from the fact that I find it very hard to sit on someone's wheel without at least trying to blast past them quite early on...

My favourite way to deal with these people is to sloooooow dooowwwwwn until they get impatient. Or brake suddenly (which can be a bit hazardous to one's own health). Or, if I'm feeling particularly strong, to stamp on the gas and drop them, but that tends to only work on slight gradients or steep hills due to the frantic leg-spinning that I start doing about about 33kph.

There you have it: just another cross I have to bear. :-)

Well, This Is Novel

I'm breaking my email posting cherry this morning, so I'm rather excited by this new use of technology. However, as I try to look for a cloud to every silver lining I find that due to my poor selection of mobile provider I'm unable to post unless tethered to a computer, should the need/ urge ever arise. It's not necessarily a problem at the moment but I anticipate a keen desire to post from the top of a mountain (or more likely some grotty motorway services) at some point in the future.

I have now fallen so far behind my proposed target that unless I do 1.5 rides per day until the end of the year I haven't a chance of hitting 300 rides. Maybe 200 is more realistic now... Maybe not. I'll see where I get to on the 31st December.

This morning's ride was a 5k shocker: driving wind and rain knocked my average speed back from the 30kph mark down to a pathetic 22kph. I'm used to getting a soaking now, and I'm resigned to the stark reality of them becoming more frequent as "summer" (I have to do that, it's Britain) turns to autumn turns to winter. My waterproof kit is very good now though, so it's not too terrible, although I've yet to find a fabric that can cope with my seemingly unnatural sweatiness when exercising. Still, it's fun to keep searching.

And another thing! I'm going to have to take the plunge in the next few months and get myself some sort of on-bike luggage. Regular commuting is no real friend of the rucksack, regardless of how "supercool" or "aeroflex-y" the back system is. I need to find a good sized rack or saddlebag and a small handlebar bag that will be able carry my clothes, lunch, acoutrements (keys, wallet, mp3 player) etc. Well, it's another little project I guess...

New Route

9.6km
3.5kg (for now - 2.1kg when the Jeep goes)

Who Are You Again?

Ah yes, I remember now...

I've been terribly busy slack in the past couple of months, which is no sort of excuse really now is it?

A quick recap:

• I now have a new commuting bike. It's a Trek 1st District with a spangly (but actually slightly matt) belt driven single gear. The belt means that there's no sticky oil to get all over the place (trouser legs, dining room carpet, the boy's hands) and that there's also zero maintenance. It's fit and forget for a couple of years for the belt til it needs to be replaced, and that's a pretty easy job. Other than that it's a bit more suited to commuting than the Giant was in that it's more suited to mudguards and has less spine-compressing tyres on it. So far it's sweet and I'm not finding the lack of gears to be much of an issue. I do run out of gears on the flat, and it's more effort uphill but the compromise is worth it and I don't really notice it at all.
• Dr G, the Dutchman and I rode over Garburn pass a few weeks ago when Dutch came up for a visit from Wales. It was a lovely sunny day and the route took us up round the top of Windermere with great views over the lake, stretching up to the Kirkstone pass. This was followed by a drop down into Kentmere with the final leg going along the reverse of the start of the route we did earlier in the year. The reverse route is much better.
• We have a new addition to the family, with the missus giving birth to a beautiful baby girl earlier in June. My riding has been curtailed but I don't mind :-) And I've been on paternity leave with slightly altered priorities.
• I shall have a rant about people drafting me on the way to and from work tomorrow...

There Is A Song...

...by the band Presidents Of The USA that is rather apt for this particular objective.

POTUSA

A Long Week

It's been a long 7 days, made longer by the lack of bike while I was waiting for my new tyre. I tried to repair the Conti but it refused to play ball and the tear just winked at me as I pumped the tyre up to full pressure. I guess I'll have to try and be creative and think of something useful for the tyre to do other than wrap round my wheel.

It's funny how I didn't realise how much I'd grown used to riding in to work until I was sitting in the car. I suppose the ride wakes me up, and I generally feel better when I get a little bit of two-wheel action in each day.

Big Bulge

Queue the humourous quips about lycra and crotches.

So, long time no see (or speak, or type etc). I just sort of forgot and was stuck in a mire of "other things" that needed to be done, after which there was no time, energy or inclination to type brain slurge onto a screen.

But I'm back now, so it's all fine. There there.

You have probably guessed that I'm not talking about tight lycra shorts by now as you know me not to be so crude. I am in fact talking about my first commuting-related puncture which happened to me on the ride home this afternoon. Mercifully it was after the Big Hill that is the final hurdle in my homeward bound leg although it was on the other side of said hill so I didn't get the freewheeling benefits I usually enjoy. As normal I had my headphones in (listening to the handover from Dale "tranquilisers and gin" Winton to the Vampire Mayo) but I still heard an odd scrubbing noise and the subsequent squirmy rear wheel that told me my tyre had decided to have a bit of a relax mid-journey. It was however a lovely sunny afternoon so I strung my helmet and gloves round my bars and began the 10 minute walk home. I suppose if I was looking through a half-full glass I got a few more minutes of rare sunshine.

On inspection at home, it appears that the tyre sidewall has been torn and I can't repair it as quickly as I thought, so I'm without it, probably until Monday now. Ho hum, and just when I'd reached the half century too.

Time Well Spent

2 bikes cleaned and 2 sets of gears adjusted, although the Giant's being particularly troublesome on the rear mech: slacken the cable tension off and it won't shift up the block properly but tighten it up and it won't shift down. It's a touch annoying but I may have another go next weekend. I've also trued the Giant's rear wheel. It's not perfect (yet) but is better than it was.

The big win is the front mech on the Ventana which has been rubbing on the chain in the middle ring for what feels like an eternity, and despite me being a very angry person when it comes to less-than-nearly-perfect bike mechanics I've just not taken the time to fix it properly. I did it this morning, so I'm basking in the glow of satisfaction.

I have had a thought though. In my current frame of mind I think my ideal MTB is the one I've got but with a through axle rear end, a hub gear and a Hammerschmidt front setup, so 16 speeds with no mechs. This spec begs the questions a) Can you bolt through a hub gear, b) do you need a tensioner for a hub gear on an MTB? And the obstacles in the way of (this week's) cycling utopia are the small issues of not having a bolt through swingarm and not having ISCG mounts on my frame. Mech it is then. For now...

Easy? Easy? My God, What's Wrong With You?

Pretty nice ride round White Pike and Walna Scar.

I can tell you that Natty bridge is indeed natty, that White Pike is pretty impressive, the slate quarry contains a lot of slate and not very many exit points, and that the downhill from Goatfoot Crags, past Nettle Crag and towards Coniston is rocky but awesome. Everything else is a blur caused partly by stopping every few minutes to read a map and partly because we cocked up the route after Natty bridge and ended up following the sheep most of the way up and round White Pike, which is surprisingly boggy.

It turned out (when I checked the route that we did against the map, and route we had) that we did most of the route correctly but navigated too close to White Fell - where the hell is that lefthand trail? - and missed a right turn towards Torver, but that was on the downhill.

I would like to dispute the easiness of the route according to the Lancaster Bogtrotters. They must be hugely fit or we must be the opposite, because it felt like most of this route was uphill! And the trail was a frikkin nightmare to follow. Nevertheless it was a good ride and I earned my fish and chips. Oh yeah, and we saw a bird of prey too, although I don't know what sort.

H'ub G'ear

It's very close. I can feel it. I can actually feel it. It feels like a tingling that starts in my toes, creeping up and through my legs into my core. My ears strain for the sound of its imminent arrival. I look for it on the horizon. It's tantalisingly close...

CYCLE 2 WORK!!!

And therein lies the problem: what to get, WHAT TO GET? I definitely like the idea of a hub gear (2, 3, 5, 7, 8 or more?) for the maintenance-freeness of it all and I'm taken with belt drives this week, but the pansy in me also fancies more comfort than a Giant road bike affords me. And I like the speed of the road bike so don't really want to give that up to slacker angles and woolier steering. So I'm in a bit of a pickle.

Perhaps I'll go for the commuter-staple of a Bad Boy or perhaps a belt-driven District, or maybe a hub-geared iO. But then there's the leftfield, oddball choice of a Moulton.

I think I might need to book a few test rides...

Road To Ruin

Or, how to ruin a perfectly good road.

My main route to work was resurfaced a few weeks ago to a beautiful smooth, pothole- and patch-free work of art, but now the council have seen fit to highlight the cycle lanes with ridiculous green paint. They'd already put the markings down making the cycle lane distinct and visible so why the feck have they painted over their new road surface with an uneven and bumpy surface? It's not like drivers pay any more attention to cycle lanes if they're pretty colours. I think that it's a conspiracy to deter cyclists. Perhaps I should write to the Guardian. Or the Mail...

Boy Legs

I should think so really, what with being a boy and all. In fact, man legs I should hope! What I'm alluding to is that today's been the first day this year that I haven't felt the need to wear longs on my ride. Roll on summer! I'll be massively tanned by then, although probably only on my forearms, calves and face (except forehead) so I'll look suitably odd.

The morning ride in is still a bit chilly for bare flesh (ooh, perhaps I should get some legwarmers) but the afternoon/ evening ride home is perfect "just shorts" weather at the moment. I'm still layered up on the top but for me it's the legs that count.

On a slightly different note, I appear to be producing rather a lot of snot on my morning rides despite being free of a cold and not smoking. There's quite an art to clearing a nostril at speed without the contents ending up on your face or clothing. I've not mastered it completely.

What's Wrong With My Legs?

I've been cycling to work regularly now for over a month as well as going out most weekends for an off road jaunt, so why the hell are my legs still killing me and screaming in defiance at any incline? If getting fitter isn't one of the exciting benefits of a life of grinding physical strife day-in, day-out (over my enormous 5 mile commute...) then what's the bleedin' point? I'm already smug enough so smugging up on the carbon savings is hardly worth the bother.

Like A Caveman Being Given A Spaceship

Cracking ride round Kentmere, Green Quarter and Cocklaw Fell this morning.

The sun was(n't) shining, it was dry and we were prepared for a new chapter in my (and Dr G's as well really) MTB career: the more manly option of the non-trail centre. Not that I've never ridden off piste before, but I usually take the easy option of the trail centre, mainly down to the lucky coincidence of having lived very close to one trail centre or other in the past 6 years.

It really was a good morning's (and early afternoon's) riding and a day of firsts including the Dr's new bike and his new tights. I had to make do with the new trail.

We made good use of the map and some nattily laminated directions, thanks to the inspired use of child labour, while chatting a lot of the way round. Which was nice. All the while with the thought in the back of our minds of a big lunch of veg chilli (which was delivered as expected upon our return).

Details of the whole thing would be a tad dull I reckon, so highlights included:

• Dr G explaining to his new bike that it was likely to get dirty, "but it's okay".
• Hunched-over "old pervert style" bib-tight induced relieving of oneself.
• Inexplicably slow going over what appeared to be simply grass
• Me: "My rear hub's quite noisy when I'm not pedalling", Old Man, disapprovingly, "Mmmm, yes".
• A riveting discussion on which foot forward is best.
• The good Dr calling me gay for reasons I forget.
• Quickmud across the top of Cocklaw Fell, which the Doc - after avoiding my haphazard and slippy route - ended up sideways up to his elbow and knee in.

A thoroughly enjoyable session, lots of exercise and the reward of a nice Hawkshead lager at the end. Fantastic.

Carbon, Carbon Everywhere...

So, I've been thinking how much carbon I can claim to be offsetting (if such a thing makes a blind bit of difference to climate change, which incidentally I do believe in) in striving to my goal.

Put your maths head on.

Our Focus produces 140g/km. Our Cherokee produces 366g/km (!). I'll assume that I'd be driving the Jeep as that's the most likely scenario.

According to the Irish Times a cyclist at 16km/h produces 5g/km. My current average is 24km/h so let's double it to be sure, so 10g/km.

Therefore I'm saving 356g of CO2 for every kilometer I ride on my commute. Or roughly 5.5kg for each return journey.

It's all academic and pointless really because an internal combustion engine burns a fuel that captured carbon millions of years ago, while I burn fuel that captured carbon in the last few months (or years at a stretch). I.e. my expelled CO2 has been captured from the present day atmosphere so I'm not putting anything into the air that wasn't there very recently beforehand. And I still have to breathe when I'm sat in my car.

Sir! Yes Sir!

Normal event-free rides today. Pleasant enough.

Popped round to the (ex) boss's to help with a bicycle related mechanical problem which was less serious than I thought it'd be. What a nice surprise. It turned out to be a simple case of a crank bolt working loose and falling off. Yes I know, I too have no idea how you don't notice first a bolt coming loose, then your left crank arm attempting to make a break for freedom, but there you go. No excuses for him not to ride now though.

Unfortunately there was a slight problem this evening: on the way home I got smoked by some guy on a Rock Lobster 'cross bike. I was spinning along nicely at a decent pace and he overtook me on a slight uphill. I didn't even know he was there. How rude! I kept up with him about 50m back until I turned off the main road, but I was quite irritated if I'm honest.

Finally, I have been hankering after a Moulton. Roll on CTW scheme!

Le-hoo-serr-her

Rubbish week for riding: 3 days commuting and nothing this weekend.

I suppose that going for the missus's 20 week scan sort of counts as an excuse, and band practice means that I'm only riding 4 days a week normally, but the weekend laziness is inexcusable (is that a word?).

I did give the Giant a clean, lube and a change of rear pads though, and I think that the chain's on it's way out but the added excitement of the potential of the chain to go bang at any moment will make this week's commute into an X-TREME COMMUTE!

I also need some new waterproof trousers that don't bathe me in sweat.

Machine

I am a finely tuned machine. I am in harmony with my bicycle to such an extent that I can feel the Orbits unbalancing my wheels.

I am a supreme athlete. I have such acute senses that I can feel the Orbits altering my speed on every revolution.

I am a pragmatist. I have weighed up the benefits of the Orbits preventing my death against the inconvenience of a slight loss of speed.

Ooh, Like, Real Snow.

It was like proper crunchy under wheel and everything.

Opened the curtains this morning and there'd been a fall of around 2" of the white stuff, and it was still coming. So I did what any sensible person would do: let the chicken out (that's not a euphamism), had my breakfast, put a load of washing on, minced about for a bit, then loaded the car up and went for a ride.

I packed a shovel (no, really) in case I had to dig the car out, but in the end it was my road and the back roads round town that were worse than the country roads up to the trail. The trail itself was rideable and the earlier-than-me birds had packed the snow down nicely so there was grip to be found. The fireroads were a bit more "virgin" which meant I got to play at drifting but attempting to stay upright. All in all it was a very pleasant session, with pretty much no downsides. I even got to hose the bike down before I put it in the car.

Fantastic.

UFOrb

My new spoke lights came today and I've had a play with them but not ridden with them yet. They're nice and bright and a bit like the fried eggs you get in pick'n'mix, although I've not tried to eat one so I can't confirm whether they taste the same. I suspect they don't.

Damn You, Electricity!

 

Picture the scene: you're riding along merrily avoiding being run over, riding inches from dog turds in the gutter, waiting patiently at red lights etc etc then all of a sudden Electricity decides to deal you a huge blow. All my electrical gizmos give up the ghost at the same time.

Computer - faint screen and not really wanting to tell you how fast you're going
Front light - lazily blinking out the Morse code for "my batteries are dead"
Rear light - fading slowly from a retina-burning crimson to a warm but useless campfire glow.

Alright, so my phone wasn't dead (it performed that trick on Tuesday) but the lights were a big concern. I've learnt my lesson though - spare batteries duly squirrelled away in one of the pockets of my bag for Electrical Conspiracy purposes.

SMIDSY

I got hit by a woman in a VW Jetta this morning. She bumped me as she pulled out of a side road. I'm fine and I think the bike is okay (just scratched the QR, hope it's nothing more than that) but that's partly because I saw her pull up to the junction then pull out so I was already taking a wide berth. I did going slightly mental at her - she was quite shaken as I bellowed through her windscreen and side window, but then it could've been a lot worse (mainly for me). I think she'll be a bit more careful in future (perhaps) as I gave her such a large earful.

Standard response: "Sorry, I didn't see you" - what, was my bright flashing light not visible enough for you? How about my orange bike? How about me being the ONLY THING ON THE ROAD IN EITHER DIRECTION? F*ckwit. Hopefully I've given her something to think about, and I got her details in case it's more than just the QR.

In conclusion I think I need: some visible side lights, more luminous clothes and a very bright front light. And a f*cking great big stick to fend cars off with, a bit like jousting.

Kapow! Kersplatt! Kablam!

And so it was decreed that on the ninth day of the second month in the year of our Lord two thousand and ten, the chosen cyclist would be smote from his narrow throne and thrust to the ground with great force.

He shall be confused by the isolated nature in which his trial occurred and humbled by the terrible contact between body and ground.

His Faith will be strengthened as he realises that no metal devil was within reach to crush him under its evil locomotion.

And he will consider his fragile form as he winces when he returns his hands to the bars. But he shall remained undeterred and resolved to complete his task.

Love Is A Clean Bicycle

It's true. Partly.

My road bike got a bit of a birthday on Friday and I must've removed a kilo of road grime, brake dust, grit and truck driver spittle from the frame alone. The chain now shifts almost-acceptably and I never knew that the rims had white writing on them. Amazing.

It does make a huge difference though, probably mostly psychological but still a noticable change.

I Heart Tubeless

Another Saturday, another family trip out to Grizedale, only this time with Dr & Mrs G as well. The good doctor is testing replacements for his stolen pride & joy and he seems to be having a mighty fine time doing it too. Even if the circumstances for all this fun arise from some filthy little scumbag taking what isn't theirs.

So, it was another cold, fresh day although the ground is beginning to thaw with all the resultant puddles and bogginess, but you don't go out into the woods to stay clean, do you? It was a pretty uneventful ride with a couple of niggly mechanicals to keep me on my toes but they were only spotted after-the-fact:

1. I thought my headset was loose. I was pleased to find out I was wrong, but the helpful Leon at the bike shop pointed out that my front caliper was about to make a break for freedom...
2. I also thought the rear wheel was squirming round a lot, which made me check and double-check the frame pivots, shock mounts, QR tightness etc etc. I discovered this morning when I was giving the bike a post-ride birthday that my rear tyre was at a shameful 10psi. 

But that brings me neatly to my title - no pinch flats, no punctures of any kind. Ace. I did think that I was bottoming out a bit too much, but in hindsight that *may* have been the rear rim clunking against the ground as the tyre compressed. You live and learn.

I Am *Literally* On Fire...

Actually, I'm not "literally" on fire, because I can't smell burning and my clothes are not a smouldering pile of ashes lying round my blistered and charred feet.

But I am metaphorically on fire because I've gone for 2 weeks without driving to work. I've cycled 10 times on the bounce: through snow, darkness, wind and the cold. It's not bucketed down yet, but give it time.

However, every lining has a cloud and I managed to lose one of my rear lights. Most likely it was in an exhuberant traffic light sprint(!) one morning, but I only noticed after I parked the bike and by then it was probably mashed under the wheels of some car or van.

You win some, you lose some.

Whoopy Doo!

Double figures, and nearly triples on the mileage. Well, it's given me cause to celebrate anyway.

That is all.

My New Friend

Is a blackbird. He popped over to say hello when I stopped for a text break at the carpark at Moortop on the Grizedale North Face route. Very accommodating with the photo taking and everything. We swapped numbers and I said to drop in if he's ever in the area.

I did my first proper MTBing of the year (Cwmcarn was a bit more of a sledging session) this afternoon at Grizedale. I was on my own after leaving A and the Boy to have a walk elsewhere, and it was fantastic.

That sounds cruel perhaps, but what I mean is that I like my own company; I set my own pace; I could admire the scenery; and it was simply an opportunity to get a bit zen. The conditions were excellent - cool, crisp, clear. I much prefer that to summer heat. The trail was bone dry in places, icy and wet in others. So all-in-all it was a great ride.

I like to grind up the fireroads (actually, that's more have to), attack the technical climbs (so I don't fall off) and boot it on the downs and being in a group of one meant that I didn't have to wait for anyone, and I wasn't slowing anyone down.

Onwards to the goal!

Spex

I found them. On Thursday night.They were in my festering Camelbak: I should be a microbiologist, not a materials engineer.

Connect Five

Yeah, I have confirmed my suspicions that I am in fact Super-Ace. My reasoning and evidence is that I have completed a run of 5 days of cycling. It's been the commute run, but I could very easily have caved on Thursday or Friday, but I didn't.

So that's part 1 of my Super-Ace-ness.

Part 2 is that despite my preveiously unheard of rock-bottom fitness levels, I didn't feel that bad during the rides and I could (and still can) walk with at least a semblance of being an upright citizen (and not a loping ape who's legs won't bend).

In conclusion, I believe that I deserve the title.

Where The Hell Are My Glasses?

Because I ride so fast that without them my eyes water and it's terribly dangerous.

I'm deadly serious.

No, really.

On to matters much more serious: I rode to work for the first time this year, and it didn't feel as bad as I thought it would. Now, only 297 more rides and I'll have achieved what I set out to do. But only if I find my glasses.

New Rubber

But on the washing machine and not on either bike. And it's not really rubber but a silicone material because rubber would perish too quickly. Ah, the excitement of being me.

Replaced the seal on the washing machine so it no longer p*sses water all over the floor, with the added bonus of the new one not being full of rancid scum. Marvellous.

Let's see if it worked: I'm running the thing now to test it.

I Did 370 Miles Today...

Unfortunately that was in a car. Nevermind, I was thinking of riding my bike in the stunning lanscapes of mid- and North Wales, so that sort of counts I reckon.

I had a partly-impromptu (is that an oxymoron, or am I just a normal mornon?) trip from Ross-on-Wye, through to Ludlow (ish), across to Llangollen, sort of past Festiniog, skirted round Snowdonia without really knowing what I was looking at, passed a couple of reservoirs (Llyn Celyn, llyn Trawsfyndd) went through Porthmadog and collected some wheels from Pwllheli. I then started up again and went north through Caernarfon, Bangor and Conwy and eventually joined the M6 at the Thelwall viaduct.

The drive was an amazing combination of real British countryside with beautiful rolling hills, crags and all the wintry bleakness that I rather like, and the coast's altogether more sunny disposition. I'd never been to any of the places I went to before I got onto the motorway and I'm blown away by them, so now, unbeknown to my wife I think that's where I'll plan a holiday to sometime this year. The difficult part will be to choose which one of the places I saw.

Ha! In Your Face Weather!

Or something slightly less Americanised.

The Dutchman and I did Cwmcarn yesterday at 3pm. It fits the "greater than 30 minutes rule" because we were out for over an hour, but it definitely wasn't 10 miles. The ground was mainly slush and snow, so the going was slow and difficult (can you spot a theme in my riding yet?) and the decision was made to take the road up when we got to the bridge due to our wobbly progress and the Dutchman's predisposition to fall off, which wouldn't have been much fun a) for him rolling down the embankment through bushes into a stream or b) for me having to slither down and rescue him while trying to preserve my own skin (or, if I'm honest, vice versa).

However, even the road was a pig and neither of us could find any grip. The majority of the afternoon went like this: find a bit of ground without deep snow or ice on, stay in a low gear, get some grip, pedal a bit, forget that this smooth riding is the exception rather than the rule, dig the front wheel in/ spin the rear wheel, slide about and over-compensate, fall off, repeat. It was good fun though, but we took the decision to cut the ride short when we'd not even reached the top after an hour.

It always amazes me that the Dutchman dresses the same regardless of the weather. I am very weather-specific, partly because I like to be comfortable and safe, and partly because I'm a kit-ponce and like to have the right stuff. He wears shorts, jersey and jacket regardless of the weather, occaisionally omitting the jacket if it's sunny or something. I was in bib tights, shorts, warm baselayer (a new Craft Pro Warm zip which is awesome and good value), waterproof jacket, waterproof gloves (not too great when your hands are already wet - see below), waterproof boots. And my knees were still a bit cold. He must be made of stone not to feel the cold.

I'm convinced that weather is capable of conscious thought too. On arrival at the carpark it started to chuck it down, just at the least convenient moment. I can cope with (and secretly quite like) rain during a ride, but when I'm faffing round putting on shoes, jackets, attaching wheels, checking tyre pressures and all that pre-ride neccessity, I don't appreciate being soaked. Which is what lead to the wet hands before we'd even set off. The rain eased off during the ride, but that may have been because we began to ride through the cloud On our return it started to throw it down again, which meant rushing to get stuff in the car before the seats and doors got sodden.

Guess what: no photos (again). The added complication of photography in the already difficult rain/ snow/ skill-gap mix wouldn't have resulted in happiness or any reasonable pictures.

I really should take more photos.

But I don't.



Anyway, I had something to rant about this afternoon that I was going to add in here, but I've forgotten it. I'm sure something else will come along and piss me off any moment now, so I'll try and vent my spleen as soon as that happens.

I can see this turning into a shouting-at-society soapbox.

And Hey Presto! My Legs Work!

As if by magic, I actually went for a ride. It was a late afternoon effort through the slush and ice up past the Black Dog and down into Irleth. Not too slithery either, which was a pleasant surprise and meant I could concentrate on how slack my body is after a few weeks of no riding at all combined with several thousand calories too many over Christmas.

It seems to be warming up a little round here but in spite of that my toes were cold even in my winter boots. Thicker socks?

At least my new jacket did it's job admirably.

A Conspiracy Of One

The one being me, or at least my weak resolve and willpower.

I think I've forgotten what a bike is and how to ride one. I suppose I could blame the weather in that I didn't ride to work at all last week, which is very poor. The weather is pretty ropey, but if I made the effort to ride my MTB in it wouldn't be impossible, just a bit slower.

The biggest obstacle is the first ride. Once I'm into the swing of it I'm fine, but at the moment it's very easy to get in the car or get a lift. No excuse really.

My other problem is that I've loaded 2 academic courses onto myself which I'm only now starting to complete the work for, so the evenings are becoming clogged up with probability and 200-word assignments. Perhaps I should go on a time management course...

Lazy, lazy, lazy

I'd better kick my arse into gear and get a shift on today and tomorrow.

First One

A very modest target of 300 bike rides this year. It was going to be a-ride-a-day but the missus told me to be realistic.

The self-imposed rules are thus:

1. A ride only counts if it's at least 10 miles or 30 minutes, so no cheeky cheating by popping to the shops and counting that.
2. Cumulative rides count. So I can count my rides to work as one, since they're 5 miles each way and therefore at the 10 mile limit.
3. Rides can be offroad or on, or a combination of both (so I could do a 5 miler on road and a 5 miler offroad in the same day.
4. Rides can't be added up unless they're on the same day, but not 24 hour period.

         *I may add more rules.

Anyway, I'll have to fit them in round work (obviously), family life including a pregnant wife, 18 month old and the new baby (when it arrives) and the most potent barrier to achieving my aim: my inherent bone-idleness.

Tally ho, chocks away, pip pip, and I've got off to a flying start with no riding today. Ace.