Two points to start. Yes i completed the Exmoor Beast 100 mile Sportive today. I know I should leave you all in suspense about whether I made it or not, but well, it's a bit like the encores the bands do at the end of a gig (showing my age). You know they are coming back on, they know you know they are coming back on, so why do we all have to go through that ritual of shouting for me, and then they come back. Just stay on the stage until you've finished, for sure.
So I finished the ride, but the blog is in the telling, not the destination. Do you think I would be blogging if I hadn't made it? Actually that's more of an open question than you might think. I really don't know. I did bail from the 100 mile Cheshire Cat in favour of the shorter distance earlier this year.
I digress. The other point is that Bunny and I finally finished the 100-mile event nearly a year after we first started it. Well technically we didn't start it because they cancelled it on the day because of the weather (see last year's post) but we had entered and had every intention of giving it a go.
So 7AM this morning there we were on the start line in Minehead. This year's B & B was next door to last year's, quite by chance (although our host can only be generously described as somewhat grumpy and uncommunicative), but we did eat in the same Italian restaurant as last year. I had the same food. Well the same menu items. Sorry that's gratuitous, For some reason all the waitresses had face painting of cats and a clown, I didn't like to ask why, but the girl with the clown make up was particularly scary.
Lastly, but most significantly, the weather was next door to last year's too. While not in the hurricane envelope, it wasn't nice. Wet, damp, misty, rainy, very windy and loads of leaf mulch and squashed conker shells all over the roads. Tricky on a 20% gradient.
We set off into the gloom of the clocks-turned-back moment, just after 7AM. I had put my back-upz lights on and quite a few other bikes were blinking away, and there was a preponderance of hi-vis rain jackets. I had opted for shorts and the ACG coat thing, because I'm hard. It was quite mild and I didn't want to get hot either so opted for Skip's favourite tactic: layers! I think I got it spot on, as I didn't need to add or divest all day, so apart from frequent use of the zip, and half of Exmoor's topsoil all over my face and legs, it was spot on.
After a bit of undulation out of Minehead, the EB gets serious as it heads up to Dunkery Beacon via Luccombe. After a gradual interaction the route turns left and hits the 20% through the forest. Now I'm not one for petty officialdom, but when the instructions say "don't ride over the cattle grid, you will crash and burn" I tend to take note. Almost all the riders rode through the tarmacked opening by the gateway. But as they say "there is always one" and sure enough he ended up doing an impression of someone looking for his keys at the bottom of a cattle grid whilst clipped in to a road bike.
I had ridden up this hill on the Tour of Wessex, only in the dry and without the road slime. Or the face slime (my cold threw a couple of last gasp presents at me). So eventually I emerged onto the Moor proper, and after the short descent, which involves a hairpin bend and a crossing of a stream whilst riding on cobbles (and yes the current was un-nerving), we snaked our way up the ascent of the west shoulder of the Beacon. The hill on the ToW is harder as it does the Beacon proper. Lightweights aren't we?
Now if a highly competitive, ultra-fit skinny cyclist tells you he is just out for a nice ride and isn't going for a time, don't hear a word of it. Bunny told me this last night and I laughed at the time and I am laughing now. What's that story about the fox and the scorpion? It's in my nature. So that hill was the last I saw of him until the end, but that was OK as I couldn't see much of anything, the moor was completely shrouded in mist. Luckily I could remember which of the descents had a road junction at the end of it, and which had a bridge with a sharp turn. It was harem scarem riding.
By now we had the easterly wind behind us, for the only time during the whole ride as it turned out, as it swung round to the north in the afternoon. I decided to make the most of it as we bombed across the moor towards Lynton. Or Lynmouth. Or both of them, I don't know do I? I looked behind me and found I had a peleton in my wake, somewhat to my surprise. Eventually we fragmented as we descended Contisbury Hill, the climbed up again towards Simonsbath.
This climb is a joy. Moderately shallow, about 5-8% I think, it cuts through a gorge (with shelter) and the leaves were at their spectacular Autumn best. The best bit of the whole day.
It was still a bit bleak up on the top, and after lovely hot soup at Simonsbath, we climbed to a southern ridge before heading east. Into the teeth of the wind. I actually managed to organise a group of six disparate riders to work together for this bit, apart from that I was on my own most of the day. As i was descended into Dulverton, something went funny at the back of my left knee, very suddenly and somewhat painfully. By the time I was on the road going up the Exe valley I had to stop for a couple of minutes it was so painful.
I thought about bailing, I really did, at the very least I thought I might just cycle back to Minehead. At this stage it was about 48 miles on the clock, and every pedal stroke was hurting. But the human body and mind are strange, well mine are anyway. By Weddon's Cross it was easy to kid myself that it was not too bad. So I turned up the hill and carried on. The second feedstop was in a muddy field but the tomato soup was excellent, as were the paracetamol (in fact I'm going to have that for my dinner I think, tomato soup not paracetamol. [although come to think of it....]). I re-traced some of my Bristol to Land's End route back down towards Dulverton and Exebridge, in fact I'd seen a couple of my compadres from that trip on the EB. As well as no less than 4 people from work.
Eventually the route swung north, then west again before a final 1200 foot descent back to Minehead. 100.70 miles in 7 hours 12.30 of cycling time with a respectable 13.9mph. Total time of 7 hours 29 minutes earned me a bronze certificate. Which actually means something because if you come in over 8 hours you get "finisher". If you are a girly 7 hours 25 gets you silver, and Bunny, while not a girl, also got silver with his 6-45. (I think). All of this statistics stuff is a long-winded way of saying I was pretty pleased with my efforts. I had also thoroughly enjoyed the day, despite the weather it was marvellous to spend a day in a beautiful part of out great outdoors. And I'm glad i don't have to do it again, now that I have finally done it.
If you like hills, mud, wind, rain, soup, and lovely countryside, this is the ride for you.
As for the knee, well it's getting RICE at the moment. But the signs are not good. I am resisting Internet self-diagnosis and have opted for bury head in sand and hope it is nothing. I'll know in the morning.
That's the last big ride of the year for me. I want to round off the year by hitting 5000 cycled miles. I have 307 to do, so no rest for the wicked. Anyone wanting to make this easy for me by giving me a draft over to Glasto and back, or up the gorge, is more than welcome.
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/55019740
Sunday, 31 October 2010
Friday, 29 October 2010
Mild or best?
Mrs Mendip Rouleur went to Ireland today, along with young MR, so it was an opportunity to ride in to work. However, given that I dropped them at the airport at 5-15AM, and the poor weather forecast, it may not have been much of an opportunity. For once the forecast was fairly spot on. A very mild day for the time of year, very windy, with occasional showers.
I also discovered that our council has taken to switching the street lights off in the dead of night because they were off (on the A38 between here and the airport) at 5.30, but back on at 7AM when I was riding in. The darknesss (the light level or absence of, not the slightly fey rock band) is a real disincentive to fast riding. Despite having reasonable lights to illuminate the roads, it was hard going. I want to keep to those to avoid the traffic, but of course they wind about a bit and even though I have cycled them hundreds of times I found that the lights were not strong enough to search out every pothole or branch from a hedge.
Still it was a good little workout up over the airport hill, on the way in, and Dundry on the way home. I still feel very rough though, it takes the lungs about 40-45 minutes to feel OK, which doesn't bode well for Sunday. I was going to ride in again tomorrow, but have decided to rest instead. On the way home I was fair exhausted, I had an all-day meeting and probably didn't really eat enough during the day, so a lot of carb-loading now required.
The forecast for Sunday is not looking too good, still it can't be as bad as last year......
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/54672547
I also discovered that our council has taken to switching the street lights off in the dead of night because they were off (on the A38 between here and the airport) at 5.30, but back on at 7AM when I was riding in. The darknesss (the light level or absence of, not the slightly fey rock band) is a real disincentive to fast riding. Despite having reasonable lights to illuminate the roads, it was hard going. I want to keep to those to avoid the traffic, but of course they wind about a bit and even though I have cycled them hundreds of times I found that the lights were not strong enough to search out every pothole or branch from a hedge.
Still it was a good little workout up over the airport hill, on the way in, and Dundry on the way home. I still feel very rough though, it takes the lungs about 40-45 minutes to feel OK, which doesn't bode well for Sunday. I was going to ride in again tomorrow, but have decided to rest instead. On the way home I was fair exhausted, I had an all-day meeting and probably didn't really eat enough during the day, so a lot of carb-loading now required.
The forecast for Sunday is not looking too good, still it can't be as bad as last year......
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/54672547
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Up or out, or both
In law firms there is a cultural expression, "Up or out", meant to reflect the tendency of the lawyers to become Partners in the firm, or, well to leave. Whole theses have been written on the subject, but today I think I gave a whole new meaning to the phrase. In doing so I have invented, at least potentially, a brand new sport. Cycling is really the greatest sport not to be invented in all its glory, by the English. All of the others, football, rugby, hockey, cricket, all either invented or codified by the Anglo-Saxons. Tennis and golf don't count. Don't get me started.
So today, being a Sunday, being a glorious "not a cloud in the beautiful blue sky" day, was screaming at me to ride. In the absence of any chums, and the presence of a brisk north-easterly, and in anticipation of next Sunday's Exmoor Beast, there really was only one thing on the agenda. Gradients, hills, inclines, the up stuff. After yesterday's efforts I was feeling a lot better in the lung department, and being as K-1 was again to be my steed of choice, with its stiff steering, nose evacuation on the go, no-handed was emminently possible for the residual snottiness.
Now if you think this is a bit on the coarse side, you may want to skip a couple of paragraphs, it's about to get worse. The Exmoor Beast rides up the side of Exmoor that leads to Dunkerry Beacon. It's steep, slippery and crowded with people walking, and the only hill around here that could give me a foretaste of next Sunday is the gliding club hill. So I stopped at the bottom and took my sunnies off, unzipped the sleeves, selected the lowest gear, and off I went.
It is one of those hills that starts steep and gets steeper. I kept glancing down at Charlie to see that the initial 10% section had given way to a 14%, no 15% section, before a final lung-searing 22% ramp for about 200 yards. A few cars passed me, I made them wait rather than get too close to the slippery stuff at the side, if you put your foot down, you walk the rest as it's too steep to do a hill-start.
Towards the end I was really blowing the air out, desparately trying to get oxygen into my lungs. Lower down I had consoled myself that it's only a short hill, it may be steep, but it's not going to take hours is it? Finally I reached the top, with my heart going at 200 beats per minute, it felt like my lungs had been subjected to the old Norse practice of the spread-eagle. I promptly threw up. Not just a little cough, I emptied the contents over the road. Lovely.
So forget hill-climbing as a spectacle, I think people would pay to watch cyclists belt up impossibly steep hills before throwing up, it could be a test of their stamina. Perhaps not.
The rest of the ride consisted of a descent down the gorge, where I negotiated my way through lots of half-term traffic, before heading up Shipham Hill, through Charterhouse, up to the Highest Navigable Point on mendip, and then belting down Burrington Coombe and heading for home.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? Doesn't feel like it, I feel exhausted, but I'm hoping a less manic week at work than last, together with some early nights, and I'll be all set for the last event of the year:
http://www.exmoorbeast.org/
Here are Charlie's stats from today. I was a bit slow overall, mainly because I ran out of energy on the way back from Burrington, now why would that be? Note the steep bit after about 6 miles, that's the one, have a go, everyone should do it at least once!
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/54170650
So today, being a Sunday, being a glorious "not a cloud in the beautiful blue sky" day, was screaming at me to ride. In the absence of any chums, and the presence of a brisk north-easterly, and in anticipation of next Sunday's Exmoor Beast, there really was only one thing on the agenda. Gradients, hills, inclines, the up stuff. After yesterday's efforts I was feeling a lot better in the lung department, and being as K-1 was again to be my steed of choice, with its stiff steering, nose evacuation on the go, no-handed was emminently possible for the residual snottiness.
Now if you think this is a bit on the coarse side, you may want to skip a couple of paragraphs, it's about to get worse. The Exmoor Beast rides up the side of Exmoor that leads to Dunkerry Beacon. It's steep, slippery and crowded with people walking, and the only hill around here that could give me a foretaste of next Sunday is the gliding club hill. So I stopped at the bottom and took my sunnies off, unzipped the sleeves, selected the lowest gear, and off I went.
It is one of those hills that starts steep and gets steeper. I kept glancing down at Charlie to see that the initial 10% section had given way to a 14%, no 15% section, before a final lung-searing 22% ramp for about 200 yards. A few cars passed me, I made them wait rather than get too close to the slippery stuff at the side, if you put your foot down, you walk the rest as it's too steep to do a hill-start.
Towards the end I was really blowing the air out, desparately trying to get oxygen into my lungs. Lower down I had consoled myself that it's only a short hill, it may be steep, but it's not going to take hours is it? Finally I reached the top, with my heart going at 200 beats per minute, it felt like my lungs had been subjected to the old Norse practice of the spread-eagle. I promptly threw up. Not just a little cough, I emptied the contents over the road. Lovely.
So forget hill-climbing as a spectacle, I think people would pay to watch cyclists belt up impossibly steep hills before throwing up, it could be a test of their stamina. Perhaps not.
The rest of the ride consisted of a descent down the gorge, where I negotiated my way through lots of half-term traffic, before heading up Shipham Hill, through Charterhouse, up to the Highest Navigable Point on mendip, and then belting down Burrington Coombe and heading for home.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? Doesn't feel like it, I feel exhausted, but I'm hoping a less manic week at work than last, together with some early nights, and I'll be all set for the last event of the year:
http://www.exmoorbeast.org/
Here are Charlie's stats from today. I was a bit slow overall, mainly because I ran out of energy on the way back from Burrington, now why would that be? Note the steep bit after about 6 miles, that's the one, have a go, everyone should do it at least once!
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/54170650
Saturday, 23 October 2010
Washed out
Just as this morning's official Axbridge Cycling Group ride was nearing its sodden, cold end, I turned to Skip and asked her if it was possible to sue the Met office forecaster? For every time the road pitched up, some cold water would slosh down the length of my boot and envelop my heel in icy dampness. Every time the gradient went south, my toes got a nice cold wash.
It wasn't supposed to have been like this. I am not a meteorologist, but I know a light shower when I see one. And I didn't see one today, what I did see were prolonged downpours, heavy rain, puddles covering the whole of the road (in fact they were lakes and streams not puddles). Yet I was dressed for light showers.
I'm not sure which bit of moisture on my clothes came from me and which from the external environment. Suffice to say that it ceased to be important, the only thing that really mattered was to get home, get in the bath and look back on it with increasing levity and fondness as today's ride recedes into the distance. At least it couldn't possibly be as wet as this next week for the Exmoor Beast could it?
My cold is still with me, and had this not been the ACG I would have stayed in bed all morning. In fact I'm going there as soon as I've typed this up. I have a vague notion of being one of those Victorian ladies who "takes to her bed" for 50 years, but somehow I think I'd be bored after a week. But it's a measure of how rough
and rundown I feel that it crossed my mind.
There were five of us to begin with, Skip, me, the Doc and SMB, plus a lady on a hybrid, who was last seen following us up Winscombe Hill. If she had any sense she'd have turned back at the first sign of rain.
It is always a bit galling to cycle back up past my own house so soon after cycling down to Axbridge, but since the Council re-surfaced the road I don't mind so much. The surface is now, and for a short while at least will be, the best one in North Somerset. Just a shame about the traffic lights halfway down the other side.
We descended down to the village and then out along the Sandford road towards the moors and on to Puxton. The rain started there, never really decreased in intensity or volume, and by the time we had crossed the A370 and wiggled around the edge of Worle towards Kewstoke, the heavens had well and truly opened.
It is true that you never forget how to ride a bike. But with only three rides in my legs this month, and a severe restriction on my lung capacity I found it hard to find a rhythmn today. I also struggled a bit on the hills. Two weeks ago I was wupping everyone really on any kind of incline, today I felt like my lungs had been scraped with a penknife. Then stuffed with cotton wool. Then tied in a knot. You get the picture.
We piled into the Castle cafe in Kewstoke for coffee and (in the case of me and the Doc) toast. We were the only customers which was lucky because we brought half a rain cloud in with us. Eventually we had to venture out again into the rain, and it was then that we lost the Doc, I confess I was so cold that I just pedalled very fast for five minutes to warm up. SMB soon overtook me and Skip was not far behind. But as we struggled through the Weston stupidity, sorry, traffic, there was no sign of him. Later on Skip and I had a chat about how our ACG rides have an increasing tendency to splinter, and how this was missing the whole point of the word "Group". So we will have to do something about that.
We continued on across the lakes that passed for roads near Bleadon and Loxton, before sailing and kayaking past the Webbington, and white-water rafting into Cross. I'd had enough and took the main road up the hill to home, it was impossible to get any wetter and i wanted a bath, some warmth, a bed......
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/54133658
PS And of course, this being England, now when I'm washed, and fed, and tired, the sun has come out....typical!
It wasn't supposed to have been like this. I am not a meteorologist, but I know a light shower when I see one. And I didn't see one today, what I did see were prolonged downpours, heavy rain, puddles covering the whole of the road (in fact they were lakes and streams not puddles). Yet I was dressed for light showers.
I'm not sure which bit of moisture on my clothes came from me and which from the external environment. Suffice to say that it ceased to be important, the only thing that really mattered was to get home, get in the bath and look back on it with increasing levity and fondness as today's ride recedes into the distance. At least it couldn't possibly be as wet as this next week for the Exmoor Beast could it?
My cold is still with me, and had this not been the ACG I would have stayed in bed all morning. In fact I'm going there as soon as I've typed this up. I have a vague notion of being one of those Victorian ladies who "takes to her bed" for 50 years, but somehow I think I'd be bored after a week. But it's a measure of how rough
and rundown I feel that it crossed my mind.
There were five of us to begin with, Skip, me, the Doc and SMB, plus a lady on a hybrid, who was last seen following us up Winscombe Hill. If she had any sense she'd have turned back at the first sign of rain.
It is always a bit galling to cycle back up past my own house so soon after cycling down to Axbridge, but since the Council re-surfaced the road I don't mind so much. The surface is now, and for a short while at least will be, the best one in North Somerset. Just a shame about the traffic lights halfway down the other side.
We descended down to the village and then out along the Sandford road towards the moors and on to Puxton. The rain started there, never really decreased in intensity or volume, and by the time we had crossed the A370 and wiggled around the edge of Worle towards Kewstoke, the heavens had well and truly opened.
It is true that you never forget how to ride a bike. But with only three rides in my legs this month, and a severe restriction on my lung capacity I found it hard to find a rhythmn today. I also struggled a bit on the hills. Two weeks ago I was wupping everyone really on any kind of incline, today I felt like my lungs had been scraped with a penknife. Then stuffed with cotton wool. Then tied in a knot. You get the picture.
We piled into the Castle cafe in Kewstoke for coffee and (in the case of me and the Doc) toast. We were the only customers which was lucky because we brought half a rain cloud in with us. Eventually we had to venture out again into the rain, and it was then that we lost the Doc, I confess I was so cold that I just pedalled very fast for five minutes to warm up. SMB soon overtook me and Skip was not far behind. But as we struggled through the Weston stupidity, sorry, traffic, there was no sign of him. Later on Skip and I had a chat about how our ACG rides have an increasing tendency to splinter, and how this was missing the whole point of the word "Group". So we will have to do something about that.
We continued on across the lakes that passed for roads near Bleadon and Loxton, before sailing and kayaking past the Webbington, and white-water rafting into Cross. I'd had enough and took the main road up the hill to home, it was impossible to get any wetter and i wanted a bath, some warmth, a bed......
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/54133658
PS And of course, this being England, now when I'm washed, and fed, and tired, the sun has come out....typical!
Saturday, 16 October 2010
Lungs
Everyone around me has had a cold this week, so I'm not sure which kindly soul gave me their particular virus, but I have erred on the side of caution and decided not to ride this weekend. It's my lungs you see, not great in the sensitivity to virus department.
The hours seem to stretch out before me, and with only the Annual tax returns left on my to-do list, I decided that blogging could be the ultimate displacement activity.
Here's a question for you. Why is the High street in Weston super Mare so full of litter, when it has more litter bins per capita than anywhere I have ever been. I can imagine someone in North Somerset District Council offices, saying, "let's try more litter bins, that will do it" over and over and over.....
Inventions you never knew you liked so much until you had to do without them:
1. Contact lenses. I went mountain biking in Peru in 2007, shortly after an eye infection, and had to do without the lenses. Amazingly I had contingency-planned, and had some sunglasses with those optical inserts, but all the same it was a bit of a pain. CLs are without any shadow of a doubt the best invention ever.
2. Remote control car-locking devices. The battery went in mine and it took three weeks before I could get to the garage for a new battery. In a perfect world you'd be able to put a normal battery in them, no actually in a perfect world they'd be solar-powered, but it was intensely irritating to actually have to use a key to lock the car door. How did we ever manage before they were invented?
3. Google streetview. To look down the Aubisque on Google streetview is second only to cycling down it. On a day like today, it serves as a handy replacement for all the places I can't actually cycle.
4. The chapstick. Apparently these are often found in intimate places in Casualty departments, but for me they are the third part of the trinity: Lemsip max strength, Ventolin inhale, chapstick.
5. Lemsip Max strength tablets, not lemon drink, that's vile. See above. Sod the herbal baloney, one of mankind's greatest inventions are pharmaceuticals, and they don't get more useful than this. Especially Boots own brand version which is cheaper.
6. Balm-impregnated tissues. Makes the nose just a little bit less like a clown's on a bad day.
7. Internet shopping. The perfect way to while away a day of enforced rest. Particularly useful for buying cycling kit, food shopping and books.
8. A hot bath. For relaxing those under-used muscles.
9. Powered lawn mowers, and indeed all powered garden equipment. For making vegetation control so much faster and freeing up even more time.
10. Do you really need to ask about number 10? Without bikes what would I have not been doing this weekend?
Ten things we could do without in the modern world:
The hours seem to stretch out before me, and with only the Annual tax returns left on my to-do list, I decided that blogging could be the ultimate displacement activity.
Here's a question for you. Why is the High street in Weston super Mare so full of litter, when it has more litter bins per capita than anywhere I have ever been. I can imagine someone in North Somerset District Council offices, saying, "let's try more litter bins, that will do it" over and over and over.....
Inventions you never knew you liked so much until you had to do without them:
1. Contact lenses. I went mountain biking in Peru in 2007, shortly after an eye infection, and had to do without the lenses. Amazingly I had contingency-planned, and had some sunglasses with those optical inserts, but all the same it was a bit of a pain. CLs are without any shadow of a doubt the best invention ever.
2. Remote control car-locking devices. The battery went in mine and it took three weeks before I could get to the garage for a new battery. In a perfect world you'd be able to put a normal battery in them, no actually in a perfect world they'd be solar-powered, but it was intensely irritating to actually have to use a key to lock the car door. How did we ever manage before they were invented?
3. Google streetview. To look down the Aubisque on Google streetview is second only to cycling down it. On a day like today, it serves as a handy replacement for all the places I can't actually cycle.
4. The chapstick. Apparently these are often found in intimate places in Casualty departments, but for me they are the third part of the trinity: Lemsip max strength, Ventolin inhale, chapstick.
5. Lemsip Max strength tablets, not lemon drink, that's vile. See above. Sod the herbal baloney, one of mankind's greatest inventions are pharmaceuticals, and they don't get more useful than this. Especially Boots own brand version which is cheaper.
6. Balm-impregnated tissues. Makes the nose just a little bit less like a clown's on a bad day.
7. Internet shopping. The perfect way to while away a day of enforced rest. Particularly useful for buying cycling kit, food shopping and books.
8. A hot bath. For relaxing those under-used muscles.
9. Powered lawn mowers, and indeed all powered garden equipment. For making vegetation control so much faster and freeing up even more time.
10. Do you really need to ask about number 10? Without bikes what would I have not been doing this weekend?
Ten things we could do without in the modern world:
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Today I was Fabian
Well in my head at least. I was dressed like more like Anthony Charteau, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Charteau
Today was Sunday, and as the enforced rest of the past two weeks seemed to have done me so much good, and I want to retain my enthusiasm for cycling through the Winter, I figured I wouldn't ride today. I hadn't had a day to get all the jobs done, you know the ones that have been lingering for a long time. So I dutifully cleared out the old food from the larder, took stuff to the dump, moved the old table around, that type of thing. I even cut my hair, well shaved it all off with clippers.
I finally got round to cleaning the Red Madonne, although it wasn't too dirty, only yesterday and Friday have had it in anything like rain or muck recently. To cap it all off I cut the grass, straightened out the saddle on RM (I'm a traditionalist at heart!) and put a new inner tube in my unicycle. I recently won a unicycle lesson in a charity auction, and the lesson is this week, so I dug the unicycle out of the shed and spruce it up a bit.(I may be over-stating the competitive nature of the auction, as I suspect I was the sole bidder).
If you are wondering how I let that statement go by about the unicycle, well you will just have to read the blog after Friday, it's technically still cycling isn't it, so I don't see why I shouldn't blog about it. Actually I can blog about whatever I like as it's my blog. That told you.
Well, after all the jobs were done, I sat down for a bit in front of the TV. What should be on but the Commonwealth games road race. In Delhi. Some Australian won, David Millar got the bronze medal, but it was a good race to watch unfold. Despite the almost pan-flat course, the riders contrived to put on a good race, the end result of which was Mark Cavendish trailing in disconsolately in seventh, having been out-thought by the other teams, and suffering from a lack of Isle of Man team members to support him.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/commonwealth_games/delhi_2010/9077588.stm
By now the sun had come out. In my garden, not in Delhi. The sun was already out there, it looked boiling. My bike was clean, it was 20 degrees, in October. I didn't want to do a big ride, but it seemed like one of those opportunities not to be missed. And I have only worn my polka dot jersey once, and that was under a gilet, I always promised myself I would wear it after I completed the Raid Pyreneen. If I went out on my own I could do a bit of hill-climbing practice. So I decided to go out for an hour and do just that.
I have often done repeated circuits of my village, which of course end in a climb of the hill that our house sits on. Just below the top, and although it's only a 300 feet climb, it is 12%, so makes it interesting. Today I extended the circuit out to Sandford and Banwell, which gave me the opportunity to put a few more short climbs to the test, including Dark Lane, a 10% stretch in Banwell. I did the circuit twice and it was a bit like a bumpy time trial, or prologue or something. Only slower because it was me doing it, not Fabian or David Millar or even Anthony, polka dots or not. In my favour I did go at the climbs as fast as I could, in fact I went at the whole thing as fast as I could.
Great fun, and took just under an hour, even in the fairly stiff north-easterly breeze it was still quite warm. Statto fact coming up. The first lap was 15 seconds slower than the second, although it felt a lot harder. Why is that do you think? Bunny (who is married) is always telling me to do specific training and I think doing these short type of sessions at maximum effort must be good preparation for the forthcoming Exmoor Beast.
http://connect.garmin.com/player/52427344
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Charteau
Today was Sunday, and as the enforced rest of the past two weeks seemed to have done me so much good, and I want to retain my enthusiasm for cycling through the Winter, I figured I wouldn't ride today. I hadn't had a day to get all the jobs done, you know the ones that have been lingering for a long time. So I dutifully cleared out the old food from the larder, took stuff to the dump, moved the old table around, that type of thing. I even cut my hair, well shaved it all off with clippers.
I finally got round to cleaning the Red Madonne, although it wasn't too dirty, only yesterday and Friday have had it in anything like rain or muck recently. To cap it all off I cut the grass, straightened out the saddle on RM (I'm a traditionalist at heart!) and put a new inner tube in my unicycle. I recently won a unicycle lesson in a charity auction, and the lesson is this week, so I dug the unicycle out of the shed and spruce it up a bit.(I may be over-stating the competitive nature of the auction, as I suspect I was the sole bidder).
If you are wondering how I let that statement go by about the unicycle, well you will just have to read the blog after Friday, it's technically still cycling isn't it, so I don't see why I shouldn't blog about it. Actually I can blog about whatever I like as it's my blog. That told you.
Well, after all the jobs were done, I sat down for a bit in front of the TV. What should be on but the Commonwealth games road race. In Delhi. Some Australian won, David Millar got the bronze medal, but it was a good race to watch unfold. Despite the almost pan-flat course, the riders contrived to put on a good race, the end result of which was Mark Cavendish trailing in disconsolately in seventh, having been out-thought by the other teams, and suffering from a lack of Isle of Man team members to support him.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/commonwealth_games/delhi_2010/9077588.stm
By now the sun had come out. In my garden, not in Delhi. The sun was already out there, it looked boiling. My bike was clean, it was 20 degrees, in October. I didn't want to do a big ride, but it seemed like one of those opportunities not to be missed. And I have only worn my polka dot jersey once, and that was under a gilet, I always promised myself I would wear it after I completed the Raid Pyreneen. If I went out on my own I could do a bit of hill-climbing practice. So I decided to go out for an hour and do just that.
I have often done repeated circuits of my village, which of course end in a climb of the hill that our house sits on. Just below the top, and although it's only a 300 feet climb, it is 12%, so makes it interesting. Today I extended the circuit out to Sandford and Banwell, which gave me the opportunity to put a few more short climbs to the test, including Dark Lane, a 10% stretch in Banwell. I did the circuit twice and it was a bit like a bumpy time trial, or prologue or something. Only slower because it was me doing it, not Fabian or David Millar or even Anthony, polka dots or not. In my favour I did go at the climbs as fast as I could, in fact I went at the whole thing as fast as I could.
Great fun, and took just under an hour, even in the fairly stiff north-easterly breeze it was still quite warm. Statto fact coming up. The first lap was 15 seconds slower than the second, although it felt a lot harder. Why is that do you think? Bunny (who is married) is always telling me to do specific training and I think doing these short type of sessions at maximum effort must be good preparation for the forthcoming Exmoor Beast.
http://connect.garmin.com/player/52427344
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Wonky saddle
As I stood in the Square this morning in Axbridge, just as we were about to set out on an official ACG ride, I happened to glance down at my lovely new saddle. A delightful present from my parents for my recent birthday, it had proved very comfortable on its first outing yesterday. (BTW it's a Selle Italia Flite, in red of course). I had fitted it in the shed last Tuesday night, by the light of a head torch, in between doing loads of other stuff, and the sore right sitbone and tweaked left inner thigh muscle were the symptoms of a slight misalignment. Bizarrely, the centre line was parallel with the ground on the front to back axis, it was the side to side axis that was on a slope.
Now I could have rummaged in my seat post bag for my allen keys and attempted to fix it then and there, but everyone was about to set off, and anyway, knowing my history, I may have made it worse.
Fortunately we spent a lot of time going up the hills today, so when i wasn't in the saddle, I was trying to keep up with our newest newbie, also conveniently called by the same name as half the ACG. He actually looks like a good candidate for a medium ACG top to me, though he may be a bit tall. Skinny, wiry, fast (so SWF it is then), who claimed not to have been on a bike for a while. Still he was good company as were Shipham MTB, Boots, the Doc, Knight of the Realm and Skip.
Ah, bless her. She arrived like one of those people who turn up to work early from a good night out and get brownie points for being at their desk before the boss. But the only reason is that they haven't actually been home yet. Her eyes wouldn't have been out of place in Glastonbury, her poor, injured knee strapped up to keep it from falling apart, and did offer the suggestion that she could still be drunk. To be fair she did go to sleep at 4AM, so to come out for a bike ride by 9AM shows immense dedication I think.
So off to Cheddar we trundled, and hit the bottom of the gorge where we split up for a bit. I thought I'd keep Skip company, but she wanted to be on her own, so I carried on and joined Boots and SWF as we spun our way to the top. We all re-assembled before splitting up again on the way to the new Rock Cake (was Mountain, now refurbished and re-named) Cafe above Croscombe. Two alternative routes were on offer, the first was down Old Bristol Road to Wells then up through Horrington to the cafe. The second, taken by the Knight and Skip, was across the top to the cafe.
The Knight is still operating on China-time, having returned from a tour of the world's most populous country, and was decidedly jet-lagged rather than jet-powered. Once we all re-grouped in the cafe various teas, coffees and cakes were ordered, along with bacon and other sandwiches. Somehow the Doc managed to turn up last and get served first-how did he do that?- but I for one was quite impressed by the look of the new place and may return again soon.
The promised warm weather was not present on the top of the Mendips, as it had been pretty windy, drizzly and after the cafe, cold. Still, with the wind at our backs, we sped back via Green Ore and Charterhouse, and down Shipham Hill to Cheddar. Except Knight of the Realm who came down the gorge and met SWF, me and Boots at the petrol station. I managed to clock my fastest single speed-point of the year as I came down Shipham Hill, 45.1 mph according to Cateye, the arbiter in these matters. For the sad Stattos (like me) I have never managed to beat the speeds I used to do downhill on the Kona, I think it had a slightly higher top gear ratio. (For maximum impact that last sentence should be imagined in a nasally tone of voice, by a man in an anorak).
It was great to be riding with a group today, even if we did fragment a bit. Normal, unserious banter, just ride and enjoy myself. Just what I needed. The saddle? Well I didn't seem to notice it, and as I don't have any neck pain either, I'm just beginning to wonder if I may have hit upon something useful.....
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/52266998
Now I could have rummaged in my seat post bag for my allen keys and attempted to fix it then and there, but everyone was about to set off, and anyway, knowing my history, I may have made it worse.
Fortunately we spent a lot of time going up the hills today, so when i wasn't in the saddle, I was trying to keep up with our newest newbie, also conveniently called by the same name as half the ACG. He actually looks like a good candidate for a medium ACG top to me, though he may be a bit tall. Skinny, wiry, fast (so SWF it is then), who claimed not to have been on a bike for a while. Still he was good company as were Shipham MTB, Boots, the Doc, Knight of the Realm and Skip.
Ah, bless her. She arrived like one of those people who turn up to work early from a good night out and get brownie points for being at their desk before the boss. But the only reason is that they haven't actually been home yet. Her eyes wouldn't have been out of place in Glastonbury, her poor, injured knee strapped up to keep it from falling apart, and did offer the suggestion that she could still be drunk. To be fair she did go to sleep at 4AM, so to come out for a bike ride by 9AM shows immense dedication I think.
So off to Cheddar we trundled, and hit the bottom of the gorge where we split up for a bit. I thought I'd keep Skip company, but she wanted to be on her own, so I carried on and joined Boots and SWF as we spun our way to the top. We all re-assembled before splitting up again on the way to the new Rock Cake (was Mountain, now refurbished and re-named) Cafe above Croscombe. Two alternative routes were on offer, the first was down Old Bristol Road to Wells then up through Horrington to the cafe. The second, taken by the Knight and Skip, was across the top to the cafe.
The Knight is still operating on China-time, having returned from a tour of the world's most populous country, and was decidedly jet-lagged rather than jet-powered. Once we all re-grouped in the cafe various teas, coffees and cakes were ordered, along with bacon and other sandwiches. Somehow the Doc managed to turn up last and get served first-how did he do that?- but I for one was quite impressed by the look of the new place and may return again soon.
The promised warm weather was not present on the top of the Mendips, as it had been pretty windy, drizzly and after the cafe, cold. Still, with the wind at our backs, we sped back via Green Ore and Charterhouse, and down Shipham Hill to Cheddar. Except Knight of the Realm who came down the gorge and met SWF, me and Boots at the petrol station. I managed to clock my fastest single speed-point of the year as I came down Shipham Hill, 45.1 mph according to Cateye, the arbiter in these matters. For the sad Stattos (like me) I have never managed to beat the speeds I used to do downhill on the Kona, I think it had a slightly higher top gear ratio. (For maximum impact that last sentence should be imagined in a nasally tone of voice, by a man in an anorak).
It was great to be riding with a group today, even if we did fragment a bit. Normal, unserious banter, just ride and enjoy myself. Just what I needed. The saddle? Well I didn't seem to notice it, and as I don't have any neck pain either, I'm just beginning to wonder if I may have hit upon something useful.....
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/52266998
Friday, 8 October 2010
Back where I belong
I hadn't ridden my bike for two weeks. Since climbing off at Land's End in fact, and just to mix a metaphor for a moment, a lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then. When I got back from Cornwall I was tired, jaded and felt like I'd ridden enough for the year, never mind September. This week I'd come down with a tummy bug, had a lot on at work, and to cap it all my left hamstring kept spontaneously cramping, and pulling on my knee, giving that a chronic low level pain.
In short I was turning into a a misery.
So it was with some trepidation that I got the Red madonne out of the shed this morning, in the dark, lights fitted, new saddle on the seatpost, to ride into work.
Well I needn't have worried, it was like that feeling you have of easing into a hot bath at the end of a long walk. Or sinking into an armchair at the end of a party. Or, ... well you get the message. Within a couple of miles it felt like I'd never been away, and as the dawn broke over the Mendips, and will of the wisp mist scudded across the blue sky, I realised (again) how fortunate I am to live in such a place, with a wonderful family, friends, and cycling buddies (not mutually exclusive groups btw), a great job, and last but not least-the Red Madonne.
K-1's gear cable snapped while I was testing it after the 3 Moors Tour, so as it has a few other repairs needed it's off to Cheddar cycle store tomorrow afternoon. But the Red Madonne will do just fine thank you very much.
I am not sure I'll be able to cycle in via the flat route anymore. Maybe in the depths of winter, we'll have to see. Today it was over to Wrington, up Long Lane, through Felton then down through Long Ashton and Aston Court. On the way back it was Dundry Hill, Winford Hill then back the way I'd come through Wrington. I only had to cycle in the dark for 30 minutes this morning and then for about ten minutes in the evening. So it was a pleasant experience being out in the Autumn fresh air, a bit damp but very warm. Especially as the leaves are absolutely delightful this year, maybe it's me just appreciating these things a bit more.
I've been reflecting a lot this week as you can imagine. Life is precious and short. THESE ARE NOT CLICHES! I feel we almost have a duty to realise that, make the most of what we are given, celebrate our ups and do our best on the downs. An allegory for my cycling in fact, or maybe the other way round, but who cares. That's certainly the case for me as I'm crap at descending and not been to good on the climbs. But I'm going to get better, oh yes. Better at life that is.
Charlie and my computer are not talking this evening, had a technical tiff, so I'll have to load the stats tomorrow, after the ACG. Here it is:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/52161306
This post is dedicated to Frank Curran, he was a great lover of sport, wrote about it for 70 years, and I wish I had taken the trouble to get to know him better than I did. He was also special to a lot of people beyond his family, you can read about him here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-11452533
In short I was turning into a a misery.
So it was with some trepidation that I got the Red madonne out of the shed this morning, in the dark, lights fitted, new saddle on the seatpost, to ride into work.
Well I needn't have worried, it was like that feeling you have of easing into a hot bath at the end of a long walk. Or sinking into an armchair at the end of a party. Or, ... well you get the message. Within a couple of miles it felt like I'd never been away, and as the dawn broke over the Mendips, and will of the wisp mist scudded across the blue sky, I realised (again) how fortunate I am to live in such a place, with a wonderful family, friends, and cycling buddies (not mutually exclusive groups btw), a great job, and last but not least-the Red Madonne.
K-1's gear cable snapped while I was testing it after the 3 Moors Tour, so as it has a few other repairs needed it's off to Cheddar cycle store tomorrow afternoon. But the Red Madonne will do just fine thank you very much.
I am not sure I'll be able to cycle in via the flat route anymore. Maybe in the depths of winter, we'll have to see. Today it was over to Wrington, up Long Lane, through Felton then down through Long Ashton and Aston Court. On the way back it was Dundry Hill, Winford Hill then back the way I'd come through Wrington. I only had to cycle in the dark for 30 minutes this morning and then for about ten minutes in the evening. So it was a pleasant experience being out in the Autumn fresh air, a bit damp but very warm. Especially as the leaves are absolutely delightful this year, maybe it's me just appreciating these things a bit more.
I've been reflecting a lot this week as you can imagine. Life is precious and short. THESE ARE NOT CLICHES! I feel we almost have a duty to realise that, make the most of what we are given, celebrate our ups and do our best on the downs. An allegory for my cycling in fact, or maybe the other way round, but who cares. That's certainly the case for me as I'm crap at descending and not been to good on the climbs. But I'm going to get better, oh yes. Better at life that is.
Charlie and my computer are not talking this evening, had a technical tiff, so I'll have to load the stats tomorrow, after the ACG. Here it is:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/52161306
This post is dedicated to Frank Curran, he was a great lover of sport, wrote about it for 70 years, and I wish I had taken the trouble to get to know him better than I did. He was also special to a lot of people beyond his family, you can read about him here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-11452533
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