Brownie Points

Today was supposed to be a longish ride to prepare for next Sunday's "Black Rat Challenge", but circumstances put paid to it as we shall see. The other order of the day was for hills. I got those in OK, although would have liked to do a few more.

I started out by cycling in to Winscombe and out along the Sandford Road. From there I could turn up the long road that crosses the A38 en route to Shipham. I think it's about the longest continuous uphill ride you can do around here, with the exception of a couple of downhill stretches. Up through Shipham, and then up towards Tynings Farm, up the short pitch of 16% hill, then gradually up and along towards Charterhouse.

It was at this point that I found myself in the road section of an endurance Mountain Bike race. One of them even had the temerity to overtake me, big bloke he was, looking like one of Bristol's finest. So I drafted him for a bit, then attacked on the short rise into Charterhouse itself. That'll learn him.

The race seemed to start in a field by the AONB Mendip centre, and our paths continued conjoined as I was going to the highest point I could get to on skinny tyres, by the two telephone masts. By now there was a whole throng of them, and for all their big gears they couldn't keep up with me on my superlight frame. Actually, they'd probably been at it for 24 hours or something insane, so were doing really well to still be awake, never mind riding a bike.

As I headed back down the hill, they crossed into the other world of cycling, mud, rocks, off-road stuff. I used to cycle there myself when I was a baggy-trousered cyclist, but seeing them today made me realise how it's Lycra for me now. Mountain biking is fun, but nothing beats the thrill of zipping down Burrington Coombe at 35 mph.

Why do we cycle? For fitness? Yes. To get from A to B? For sure. To be social and meet people? Of course. I don't know about anyone else, but for me cycling has become an expression of pure joy, even going up the hills. All this talk of suffering is nonsense. For starters lycra, particularly black lycra, can make most of us 40 somethings pretend just for a moment, that we are winning a mountain stage, or a sprint on the Champs Elysee, and I love it.

From there it was on to Butcombe and up towards Winford and Dundry Hill, that was the plan. Except a puncture, or more accurately a dodgy valve on the tyre, intervened, and I discovered two things. First, my Conti tyres are not so easy to get back on the wheel, and second, my wife is lovely. I struggled for close on an hour to get the darn thing back on, but I just couldn't get that last bit of tyre over the rim. I'd love to hear from anyone with a similar problem otherwise it's new tyres time.

Eventually I called the support crew, who wonderfully brought me a spare wheel. Just in time, because now winter is here again I was starting to get distinctly chilly in the north-east breeze with matching drizzle. So spare wheel on, I cut the ride short and headed back via Wrington a, Langford and a quick diversion up through Rowberrow. RPM saw me and claimed I was speeding through the village, but I was not intending to, just trying to get home before the rain. Which I didn't. Charlie has the route, which for all it's brevity was nearly 30 miles with a fair bit of climbing:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/32599089