Bike: Spot
Route: Steppingley figure of eight
Playlist: New Wave Faves
Not the most exciting route, and with the clay and clag more like resistance training. Still, the singletrack section was sketchy fun. Maybe I should have fitted mud tyres to the geared Spot or just gone out on the singlespeed, which is suitably equipped 12 months of the year.
Vintage Spot
Bike: Spot
Route: Reverse Pig Farm with added cheek to finish
Playlist: Metal
First ride of the year. I encountered cheeky trail riders on the bridleway riding to their not so secret play spot. I rode some cheeky footpaths and everyone, everyone, I met was walking a dog. Not one of them was on a lead. I don’t normally ride the same bridleways on the bike as I do on the horse because, well, good horse-riding bridleways aren’t generally good bike-riding bridleways and vice versa. But tonight one of them was the best way home. Met two horse riders on the way.
Now if I was typical of the commentards on the Singletrackworld forum these days I should have been bitten at least once and later died of an apoplectic fit at the abuses of rights of way going on. Yet I had no problems and everyone was friendly and cheery. My suspicion is that attitude begets attitude and there’s a reason so many of the folk on that aforementioned forum have difficult encounters on the trails. Just saying like.
The photo per ride trend continues into 2012. I’ve made a note to start carrying the UltraPod so that they’re not just Panda shots.
cheeky chalky
Bike: Il Pompino
Distance: Just over an hour
Playlist: Rawk – iPod went Motörhead
There’s something satisfying about hitting a milestone at the last minute, especially when you only realised just before an arbitrary deadline that the milestone was within your grasp.
Yesterday was a birthday blowout evening meal which included beer. And boy could I tell that I had had beer as I mucked out the horses this morning. It felt like it was sweating out of every pore. So I wasn’t looking forward to getting out for the last few miles needed to hit the 1,000 miles. I even looked at the route profile from yesterday to try and work out which way round to do it to ease aching legs. The conclusion was to get the climbing and suffering over in the first three miles and enjoy the gradual descent of the remaining miles.
Wanker socks. Incongruous shoes**
I also set the endomondo app to beat yesterdays target so that if I was slow I’d have something to chase. Bit of a bummer hitting the traffic lights across the M1 then. Up the hill, thighs not feeling quite so bad as yesterday. On every descent I nail it out of the saddle to try and make up speed and time. It worked. By the time I reach the bestest roundabout in the world ever* I was over three minutes ahead, and just one climb to go.
Got the camera out at about where I figured 1,000 miles would be, then hammered home.
Gives me inspiration to try and do better next year. I’m making no resolutions though***.
* It’s a perfect radius and surface for scraping the inside pedal. Half an hour on a sportsbike there could be some knee-down fun.
** But you do get lots more nods from roadies when wearing white shoes.
*** Geek joke. My resolution for next year? 1920 x 1280.
Bike: Il Pompino
Distance: Just over an hour
Playlist: Rawk – iPod went Stoner
Having realised yesterday that I was close to 1,000 miles for the year I had to get a ride in today. Kirsty went to do the horses and after a lie in I went out on the bike. I wore incongruous shoes – white whippet slippers on an Il Pompino, and I swear that for the first few minutes I was faster. Then the road went up, and the effects of yesterday and 44:16 gear kicked in.
Il Pompino
I was knackered heading West, but once I reached the halfway point the wind was behind me, the iPod had kicked into SOAD and I flew home.
Just a dozen miles tomorrow, rain or shine, to do.
Bike: Il Pompino
Distance: Just shy of two hours
Playlist: Rawk – iPod got a classic 80s metal theme into it’s mind
Just as Monster needs to let off steam I can’t sit at home during the Christmas break lamenting the size of my gut as I feed myself with the contents of the traditional box of Quality Streets*. We had planned a group hack this morning, four horses in Polite jackets riding through the village causing the local youth to stare at their feet and kick the tyres of their hot hatches**. Inclement weather of the wet and windy variety put paid to that. Did I want to risk more punctures and mud to go out? Did I heck.
Cross-processed suicide panda
So pump up the tyres on the Pompino to 110 psi and spend two hours exploring local lanes between all the local villages. Most of which have names ending in, er, End. Including the Witts End of the title. The weather held fair. The riding was uneventful, except for the serious camber on the stretch of road I chose for the obligatory ride photo. Hence the look of fear in my eyes above.
Update: I need to fit in another 29 miles before the end of the year to make a round thousand miles for the year. That’s a pathetic total. Twenty years ago I used to make that distance in five weeks of commuting. I was a stone lighter and eating 5,000 calories a day, mind.
* Other over-large tins of low cocoa content, high fat, chocolate confectionary are available.
** Yes, really. It’s quite funny to see.
Bike: Hunter
Distance: 1 mile
Punctures: 3!
OK, so one puncture was the slow puncture I fixed before I set off. Thorn removed. The ride itself was just from home to the stables, but it involves a climb to get the lungs working and a descent to finish off.
Braking for the corner at the bottom of the descent told me it was time to fit new pads to the rear which I did. By which time I noticed that the rear tyre was going soft again. Find and fix another thorn puncture.
I had intended on getting out on the 4th, but come back to the bike in the morning and find another flat. This one took a bucket of water to find, semi-frozen in this weather. By the time I’d done and ridden horses, been to buy a new and necessary rug for one of them it was 2 o’clock. I had hoped to get out for an hour before daylight faded, but then we were called upon to go for a family meal. Still, it’s ready for the next weekend.
Bike: Hunter
Distance: An hour of leafy sussex hills, train, across london, train. About three hours in total.
Foggy morning, but I have places to be. I was decamped before everyone else was up and on the road. No chainless race for me.
Morning campers
Sussex was a new experience. Death by a thousand cuts. No long or particularly steep climbs, but definitely lacking in flat bits. Up or down all the way to Haywards Heath and the station. From there it’s train all the way with a brief sojourn across London – preparing for the Tour of Britain, plenty of team cars to overtake in the early morning traffic – and at the end.
I really enjoyed my first multi-night stop out with all the lightweight kit. It helped that there was food on-site at the race – top notch food too, from the Drop Off cafe’s mobile catering Leyland Bus. More adventures are due.
Bike: Hunter
Distance: 1 Thameslink train then an hours ride
Off to Pippingford Park for SSUK 2011. TMBMITW was having a birthday this weekend which fortunately kept the more annoying Cheeky Trails cocks well away. *
I am a number not a name
Turns out that the johnny come lately Nick Wallis had also entered, and the organisers had assumed this was a mistake when it came to printing the name boards. That meant I got a chance to make my own customised number board. “I am a number not a name”.
Once registration was sorted it was time to re-acquaint with friends such as Singular Sam, Mel & Shaggy etc. It has to be said that i know less and less people at these events each year. And introducing yourself by your Singletrack forum name means absolutely nothing to me.
Anyway, enough of that. Beer, food from the Drop Off cafe** and chat till the wee small hours. Yes, that was us with the megaphone. What, you’ve got to race tomorrow? So do we. And don’t you do know you risk the wrath of Sheldon for daring to be competitive?
Man make fire. Ug.
* Specifically anti-racer DaveA who overcompensates for his inferiority complex at being shit at racing by unfunny heckling and generally making an arse of himself.
** The Leyland bus caused proper flashbacks to my first days at secondary school. “Do not stand forward of this sign or distract the driver”.
Bike: Hunter
Distance: 1 hour
Tonight was just a quick local singletrack loop. The onset of the weather rather spurred me on. The first time since I’ve moved down South that it’s rained on me during a ride. Proper heavy rain after a sunny day, smell of dust rain. I must confess that I think my tanned calves looked rather spiffing all glistening and wet. I was so intent on finishing the ride I didn’t even bother with the camera and have had to resort to a picture from Friday.
If it’s not wet, it wasn’t taken today
The front tyre was was making proper tearing noises even as I weighted the front and ragged it to get back home. I don’t normally ride that fast unless I’m on a race course and know that no-ones coming.
