From your lonely seat, in your lonely cars

I know you want to read something light, something wryly amusing and slightly sardonic. A bit quirky maybe, tip the corner of your mouth up and just smile to yourself, the smile of faint recognition or empathy. Something about what a tough or awkward or terrific time I had on my bike riding to and from work in Bristol.

I had worked out some of that stuff to write but my brain's been fogged on the journey back. The truth? The truth is, and I hate to admit it. I'm overtrained. Persistent cough on the bike, headaches, cramps, irritability (no comments at the back), and the training volume for January has been higher than all but four months of last year, too much too soon.

So, a quick precis of the ride:

Well it was freezing and icy this morning. I chose my clothing on the basis that I thought there would be a fair chance I would fall off so I balanced warmth with padding. Given the tentative ride down to the main road it was OK, and once past that there was little ice to be had. Back roads too, and it was daylight and sunny and beautiful by the time I arrived. I took a great picture of the sunrise on my phone too. Slow though, not pushing it going downhill in the dark, and this applied especially on the way home. 40-odd miles, have a look for yourself on Charlie's stats:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/66106740

Give me a few days rest and I'll be fine. At least I don't always have to do that journey in a car in a traffic jam. It certainly induces some strange behaviour. Why do some people have to overtake to get past before the traffic island? And why do some people seem surprised that the predictable consequences of their own actions always happen as predicted? It's dark when the lights go out, and it's sunny when dawn comes. Easy really, isn't it?

Hoping I'm always there

It would seem that this month I am big in France, with 37 viewings of this blog there. Alors, bonsoir mes amies francais, j'adore votres montagnes. Or something like that, haven't quite got to the bit of my "Learn French" CDs that deals with that sort of thing. But I am looking forward to going over to the Pyrenees again in August and having a crack at a few more cols. That will necessitate riding three long, hard, hilly rides in succession so I'll need to practise that again.

The Tour of Wessex is on again at the end of May and I have entered all three hard, long hilly days again. But life has presented the opportunity for a bit of consecutive riding right now as Mrs MR is working at home tomorrow. I'd already agreed to meet Skip and the Captain at 10AM today, so if I can face it at 5.30AM in the icy blast I'll give it a go.

Back to today. Flat was the order of the route, and flat was what we got. And although there was some wind, it was nothing like yesterday, and anyway, there is no ride in the world that can not be cheered up by these four things:

1. Good company. And it was really good, although I felt a bit sluggish on the bike, and I ache now, I'm really pleased I had their presence as the motivating factor to get me out of bed. Besides, I think I must have seen well over 50 other road cyclists out today, all taking advantage of the opportunity to get out. Felt like part of a social phenomenon, there were cyclists here, there and everywhere.

2. Coffee. In a rural cafe if possible. Despite my city birth and heritage I prefer the rural setting of a cafe, where your bike won't get nicked, and there are nice things like trees and birds about. As long as the coffee is warm, has caffeine in it and comes in a clean container I'm not too fussed about taste.

3. Cake. Mine was superb today. Thick chocolate layer encompassing coffee sponge with a couple of fudge pieces on top. Not too big either, so I was tempted to have another, it is true, but I held my nerve and savoured just one piece.

4. Sunshine. All day, in the sky and in my heart quite frankly.

And we got a really good train going too, the three of us. The other two had, they claimed, stonking hangovers, but it didn't show, we chatted on the back roads, and singled-up on the main roads, sprinted, waited for each other, and not one idiot Sunday-driver. A record.

All I have to do now is eat some more pasta, have a sleep, and I can have a really good hilly ride tomorrow. Bliss.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/65850682

I'm so happy and you're so kind

Today's ride is dedicated to my old mate the Mad Scientist, whose birthday is next week. Happy Birthday. Everyone needs a mad scientist.

Like a present from Vladimir Putin, the wind blew in hard, fast and cold straight from the heart of Siberia. It was -2 degrees C, with a 20mph north-easterly, as if that matters. In my face. In the dark. At 6.45 in the morning. On a Saturday. Remind me again, why am I doing this? Oh, yes, pleasure. So that must make me a masochist, without the other bit, because I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

That's the funny thing about having cycling as an obsession, sorry, hobby. There is never an end to the possibilities for putting yourself in uncomfortable situations, and then dressing it up as self-improvement. Why do I do it? Because at the time it felt physically awful, yet now I look at it with a warm glow of satisfaction, and can't wait to do it again. Which is good because the plan is for an easy ride with Skip and the Captain tomorrow. Have to find a way to avoid that wind though. We'll have to find a way to get an impromptu ACG train going.

But as Bunny (who is married, aren't you Bunny?) is always reminding me, "some days make you faster, and some days make you stronger". Well it was one of the latter today. I was working,facilitating for a team that can only get everyone together on a Saturday, so what better excuse did I need. The wind reminded me of that day to Inverness, so there was nothing for it to do some hills. At least that way I could shelter in the lee of the hill on the way up, and get the benefit of the gradient on the way down.

The breeze was a blessing in disguise actually. It kept most of the frost away at least on the A38. And the A38 on a Saturday, at that time, is a great training road. The route was quite direct though so I was delighted to be going underground into the basement by 7.45, and eating a bacon sandwich by about 8.30. Which was nice.

When I wasn't doing my facilitating I spent a few moments pondering the merits of Consequentialism versus deontology versus virtue ethics. Pretentious moi? Of course, always have been always will be. Full of it. Actually my son was interested in the whole subject of whether lying is ever right, smart boy, because I have not figured it out, which leads me the virtue ethics camp I think.

I decided to be virtuous on the way home and do Dundry and Burrington. Except I mucked up my geography and arrived at the foot of West Harptree Hill by mistake. Not wanting to go along that road to Blagdon, there was nothing for it but to go up. Back in September I breezed up it, but today, man it was hard.

Tiring now, I popped a gel at the top and bombed across the top. Now there are still a few icy puddles up there, and coming down the gorge I decided to go easy. No virtue in sprinting down and breaking a bone, whatever my ethics. Lucky I did (except I don't believe in luck do I?) because the wind was blowing me all over the pace as the gorge winds in all directions and gets some strange eddies and flurries. Fortunate for the teenager who crossed the road in front of me too, I was able to miss him because I was going so slowly.

So I crawled back up the Axbridge bypass to home, satisfyingly almost completing a complete loop of around 45 miles for the day, just my road at the start and finish. Quite slow but I couldn't give monkeys. I did plenty of climbing and I'm still alive. And as that ride retreats into the memory, I'm enjoying it more and more.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/65664038

Where I am it is a lot of fun

First of all a big congratulations to Bunny (who is married aren't you Bunny?) for entering a 100-mile Audax today. I'm not sure if you can actually win an audax but he was also the first one to get back to the finish. Given his lack of cycling training and the poor state of the weather, this is particularly depressing. Following the Exmoor Beast in November, I calculated that the performance gap between me and him had closed by 2 minutes over the course of a year, over 100 mile distances. So if I could continue at that rate of progress, I'd be at his level by the time I was about 70.

Unfortunately this news would seem to be a fly in the ointment. I hadn't figured on Bunny getting better as well, never mind the lack of time I'm getting for riding at the moment. Still I will content myself with the fact that I have already done more exercise than I did in the whole of last January, and 2010 turned out all right in the end.

After an abortive start to the weekend yesterday, with the ACG ride cancelled because of freezing temperatures and lots of pesky ice on the road, I once again braved the tedium of solo, static cycling yesterday afternoon. Just 70 minutes this time, but it was enough to leave me slightly tired this morning as I set off to meet Skip for a hilly ride. Before I deal with that I'll just mention that I am now officially concerned about myself. I spent a good 10 minutes planning and choosing what to wear on the exercise bike. (I settled on a black/white combination with red trim, if you are interested). I think I spend more time planning that than I do a whole host of other things. Which is telling.

Good news, today the temperature was above freezing and the brisk north-easterly breeze kept the ground frost away, so off I went to Axbridge via Winscombe, to meet Skip for another opportunity to ride some hills. I was also tremendously excited at the prospect of trying out a cafe that I had not been to before. We started by heading up to Shipham, via Shipham Hill. Half-way up a blue car gave us the pleasure of listening to his car-horn, from a distance of about 2 feet. I unclipped because I nearly fell off, and yes I did swear. His (I'm assuming it was a man) is E354 EHA, and unfortunately it would appear that the car is uninsured and unregistered. Surprise. But as far as fast cars go, that was about it for the day.

From Shipham we bombed down to Churchill, Langford then cut across to Burrington before making for Butcombe. We were now on back roads, that were largely, but not totally, ice-free, but more than made up for it with mud and water. The views were fantastic compensation for the hard work, looking out across the valley, and relatively traffic-free, apart from a tractor and a white BMW (although it won't be white now unless it's been washed).

We wended our way up and down, past Nempnett Thrubwell and onto Chew Stoke, before edging Chew Valley Lake and on to the cafe at the New Manor Farm shop, the other side of Bishops Sutton. Enclosed within an old stable courtyard, it was fairly sheltered from the wind, and also had lovely and very reasonably-priced scones. And bike racks, and finally some sunshine.

We elected to go cross country to Litton, then onto Chewton Mendip and up past the Waldegrave estate, onto the top of the Mendips. With the wind behind us we made pretty good time, before carefully negotiating the Sunday drivers in the gorge and back home. A good ride with another 2500 feet of climbing, around 44 miles too, and also almost a circular route for me. (Second best to a true circle is the "frying pan" route. Have a look at the map on the Charlie stats, you'll work it out).

Skip and I never really finished our conversation about role models. It started in that time-honoured subject- the gender-bias of the cycling press. Was that prompted because we saw a cyclist in his Bikeradar kit? Anyway, quite rightly, Skip pointed out the absence of female role models of a sporting variety, who weren't then allowed to take their clothes off for a photo shoot. But I do remember Paulo di Canio being in a woman's bathroom not so long ago for a soap advert, and i don't think it had anything to do with football really.

Be your own role model? Take your inspiration where you find it? Emulate the good, discard the bad? I don't know the answer. I'm not sure I even know the question. Better go and get something to eat.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/64740710

There's a place I go and I am far away

It really is the only way to cope with the monotony. Get your technological music device for the ears out of the drawer, select a high tempo section, close eyes and dream of stories for boys.

Yes, welcome to the first ever blog of the un-bloggable. The tedium that is cycling on a static bike for 80 minutes. What can I tell you about the scenery? There were some clothes drying on the radiator? To be fair, I do have a display to look at, with lots of data. I like that. RPM? Power output? Notional speed? All there and more. But all just disguises the fact that this is not cycling, it's training, no worse, it's "exercising", perhaps the purest form of torture, keeping one's body healthy for the sake of it, rather than for my pleasure.

Good news is here though. I have booked to visit the Pyrenees again, and better still have planned three monster days to ride there. Bunny and I will stay in a place not far from Luchon, and ride some old favourites from last year, all bar one in the other direction, and some new cols too. What pleases me most is that all the rides are circular routes, and the total climbing is more than four and a half days of the Raid Pyrenean (as an aside the route of which has been changed to avoid the busy Col du Puymorens and Bourg Madame, so it's more attractive than ever, and I found out you can do it East to West). And we are taking our own bikes. Now I have something to look forward to, contemplate, and dream of when I'm on that static bike.

So I didn't move for 80 minutes, while inside my head I was far away.....

Take me to that other place

http://www.kennykaiser.com/paint/index.htm

"Wet roads" by Kenny Kaiser

I'm going to let you into a secret from my past. When I was younger I used to be a member of a political party. No prizes for guessing which one, let's just say they were about as successful as my football team, and in fact I probably had about as much influence on changing the world as I did on changing the match. I left when I realised (hey, what took you so long?) that most of the other members were more interested in advancing themselves than in advancing the cause.

So I sold out and got on the hamster wheel. But occasionally, there is a twitch upon the thread, and I'm back there in my earnest, self-righteous teens and early twenties, the difference being that now I know what I sound like. No-one will ever convince me that fox hunting is a thing of itself worth getting worked up about. Animals live and die all the time, if you want to get cross, get mad that 3000 people are killed on our roads every year, 150 of them cyclists btw. But hunting? Well, as Lance might say if you asked him, it's not about the fox.

Likewise why do we swear by using words that are colloquialisms for our anatomy? Why are they ruder than "bother"?

These were just some of the topics of my brain that spilled out of my mouth in conversation, as Skip and I navigated our way around a hilly route in North Somerset today. The latter, prompted by a particularly stupid driver, 35mph (my guess) around a a bend in a battered road barely passable for one car, was the prompt. Not that we swore at him, although I did tell him to slow down.

If you want conversation about gear ratios and all that stuff, let me know. But just as I was more than content to wait for Skip at the top and bottom of hills, so I'm sure, when she agrees to cycle with me, she knows the crap I'm going to spout!

The most bemusing piece of abuse we got from a car occupant was a prolonged piece of horn-blowing, followed by the finger from the car's passenger. What had we done to deserve this? We made a right turn, perfectly executed, safely, with the proper signals. I didn't swear at him either.

You want to know about the cycling? Oh all right. I took Skip up the gorge. Yes of course it's juvenile, but when you pull a propeller through compression, don't be surprised when the engine starts. Before we did that we stopped at the Knight of the Realm's shop at the base of the climb. Very nice it is too, with lots of lovely carvings and metal work. Got to keep Mrs Mendip Rouleur away, or she'll buy loads of stuff.

We were about half a mile up the climb when a couple of young turks:

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/young%20turk

[(obviously not early 20th century ottoman radicals, just in case you don't get the metaphor. Where's my sledgehammer?)]

passed us, racing up to the first bend. Fifty yards later I passed one of them, who had more attitude than ability. One in the net for the greyhairs:-)

From there we cut across to the top of Burrington Coombe (which Skip went down for the first time today), chatting about this and that, before descending to Wrington and popping in to the Walled Garden for coffee (both of us) and cake (me). They gave us the 10% discount for cyclists, which made it quite good value, in terms of cash per calorie.

We then spun our way up to the back of the airport, where there were plane spotters, although ensconced inside their cars. I actually thought it was a beautiful day, despite the strong wind, it didn't rain and it is still mild. I'm thinking of ordering more thick winter clothes to keep the warm weather going. Perhaps if I bought a new raincoat it would stop raining too.

Every up has its down, and today that was Brockley Coombe. As lovely to descend as it is to climb. We followed some back roads round to Claverham and Congrebury before cutting through Sandford and Winscombe and back home. Over 2000 feet of climbing in the 35 miles which is pretty good, and great company for me too.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/63522297

You can keep this suit of lights

Did you notice how mild it has become in the last few days. Wet, sure. But the temperature was in positive double figures today. Riding up Long Lane outside of Wrington I was like a boil-in-the-bag meal, steamed from the inside as well as the outside. To be hyperbolic, there was a miraculous window in the weather this morning, allowing me to ride into work and dodge most of the rain. Of course I couldn't utter the obvious fleecy-Buff related comment. That would bring the ice back for sure.

Of course there was water all over the roads from the torrential downpours we have had over the last couple of days. At times it was more a case of finding the dry bits, rather than dodging the puddles. Umm.

I also re-learned the lesson from last week that back roads are pretty pants to ride in the dark, unless it's dry, warm, and still. So Summer then. The dark definitely slows me down too. The mind is a wondrous thing usually, but mine played tricks on me today.

I know the back roads, I know when they go straight and when they bend, where the potholes are, the dips, all that. But in the dark my imagination can take over, and I find myself riding slower, convinced there is a bend coming up, when all logic says there isn't.

On the way home I took a rather convoluted route in a forlorn attempt to avoid the nasty block headwind coming straight up from the Bristol Channel. This eventually took me up Brockley Coombe, one of my favourite local climbs, mainly because it is not too steep, and has a few interesting bends and some woods on it. Not on the road, at the side. Really. I have taken to attaching one of my small Back-upz lights to the back of my jacket, a poor man's laser suit. Good for ascending on a twisty hill though. I am still alive after all, despite some mad driving from some of the commuters in the boxes.

I resisted the urge to dodge round the back of the airport, but I did wonder if the plane spotters go out at night. I bet they do. Skip and I have a tentative plan to go up there tomorrow, to cycle not to plane spot. But judging by how I feel, and how she feels, I have a funny feeling we'll end up some place else. Some place flat.

http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201101

It was great to ride today. I have had a very hectic working week, and this felt like a great release, clearing the cobwebs and all that. It's what God designed our bodies for I think, cycling. And to paraphrase Eric Liddel, when I ride I feel his pleasure. But by the time I got home I was just about gone. To my surprise I'd nearly done 50 miles today, all that wending adds up.

It would have been apt if I had done 46 miles today. I was amazed to get to this age and realise I could, with a bit of focus, no actually a complete absence of focus, enjoy myself. How did that happen? Must have been all that wending. Sometimes you need to plan, sometimes you just need to ask for the key to the bike cupboard in the basement.

Who knows, perhaps tomorrow I'll wake up bouncing and raring to storm up a few inclines. We'll see, won't we.

Ici Charlie:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/63387373

Something is about to give

I have a hunch we are in for a mild winter. No don't laugh, I'm serious. In the Spring of 2004 I splashed (pun intended) out on a Berghaus Meera peak gore-tex jacket. It didn't rain for three months. After the snow last winter I filled my shed with rock salt, well the bits of the shed not taken with bike stuff obviously. Granted it has come in useful this winter, but it sure took up a lot of room during the mild spring of 2010.

On Friday of this week my new Polartex fleece-lined super-dooper Buff (rather disdainfully referred to as "Snoods" by football commentators) arrived in the post. A toasty neck and a lovely warm bonce are now guaranteed for all freezing climate conditions. So, I think we can all look forward t warm and balmy days until the summer, when no doubt it will rain for months.

Didn't apply today unfortunately. I gingerly left my house, walked to the road and prepared to cycle off to Axbridge for a Cycling Group official ride. Just at that moment a runner came panting up the hill from the village, exclaiming, "it's very slippy and icy, be careful". What did she know? Looked OK to me. But as soon as I got to the crest of the hill, on the bit of our road with the beautiful new tarmac, I saw what she meant.

Drat, no way I could cycle on that, black, silver, any colour ice you like, it was all there. So I walked to the A38, and hoped it had been gritted. It had, but the road down into Axbridge hadn't and it too was full of the slippery stuff. My sense of trepidation, no make that fear, increased.

You know the old joke about "how do you like your eggs in the morning?" Well my take is "how do you like your shoulders in the morning? Undislocated". Back in 2006 I fell off on the ice while coming down Burrington Coombe, not an exercise I want to repeat, and which clearly nags away in the back of my mind. Should have been more sensible given what was to come.

If I had been more sensible I would have attempted to persuade people to go home, but instead we all laughed it off and headed down the A38, across the levels to Mark, and then along to the Cider cafe. Quite a short run really, with Skip, Knight, Wonderboy and newbie S (name committee meeting this week), all being fairly sensible.

When not on the ice it was a lovely day, all sunshine and blue skies, I was enjoying myself despite the concentration required to stay upright, almost like a kite blowing out of control on the breeze.

Given the state of my big toe on Friday, doing its best Gary Lineaker impression, I was lucky to be riding at all. Still it's amazing the drugs these scientists have invented for the betterment of society, that Alexander Fleming bloke came up trumps for me today.

After the cafe stop, Knight of the Realm headed off to keep shop, and the rest of us went in search of sunny roads with no ice on them. We found a few, and we also found a lot that were shaded and treacherous. Coming through Blackford my back wheel moved on the stuff, closely followed by the front, a bit like a cycling okey-cokey, but fortunately I stayed upright.

As we headed for Crickham there's a bit of a dip before the junction which was particularly icy. I passed a chap on a singlespeed, gave him a "hello" and a comment about the ice and slowly breezed past. Next thing I know I hear "thump, thump, thump", look behind me and lying on the road are S, Skip and the singlespeed chap. Skip's fall looked to have been particularly bad, indeed her helmet was cracked completely on one side, and she was looking like that Audley Harrison fellow. Except colder. And shorter and with more lycra. But hurt.

They all brushed the ice off, S being concerned about his new jacket, and we slowly made our way back to Axbridge. I made sure Skip was OK, and then after a little solo riding on the flat, south-facing and main roads towards Weston, I went home.

http://connect.garmin.com/player/62664717

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/62664717

Not bad stats. all things considered. By the way if you fancy seeing more about the ACG, I have set up a Facebook group. You do have to join Facebook, which can't be too scary as I have done it and I'm 78. Even all the party leaders, all now younger than me for the first time ever, are on Facebook. Their youth does of course give me the right to tut and make comments like "tut, they'll learn" except I'm pretty sure they won't. Or they'd be doing something more worthwhile.

What if I say I'm not like the others?

Ah, New Year. As I pulled into the basement entrance at work this morning on my bike I saw the familiar face of a colleague, arriving by an unfamiliar mode of transport. Yes you guessed it a bike. He mumbled something about "new fitness regime" and disappeared inside before i could get my security pass out from the 84 layers protecting me from the frosty, cold morning.

Every year at the carpark at the end of our road, January brings them in droves, to do a Sunday walk in the fresh air in the National Trust woods behind us. By February it's back to the hard-core. Same as our changing room today, and doubtless gyms up and down the country are at their peak of busyness.

On 1st January 1990 I gave up having sugar in my coffee. To my knowledge it's the only NY resolution I have ever kept to, can't bear sugary coffee now. So I hope that if you are thinking about some NY resolution, you do it because YOU want to or even need to, not because you feel you should.

Because of the cold, the damp and the ice (yes there was some on the back roads as I discovered near Felton), I thought I'd do a few hills today. On the way home I did my (apparently) most mentioned hill in the office, the Princess knows what I'm talking about. However coming down the other side, in the sleet, the headwind and the dark, it did not seem like a good idea. For some unknown reason the local farmers had decided to leave a carpet of mud on top of the tarmac. If you have a look at the Charlie link (the second one, called player) you will see I came down the hill almost as slow as I went up it.

Cars on full beams didn't help either, and the fact i didn't eat properly this afternoon all contrived to set a very low speed. But it doesn't matter for two reasons. First, I got over 2500 feet of climbing in. Second, as I climbed up to Winford Manor I realised I don't even need to impress myself anymore. Last year I did for me, to prove stuff to myself. Now, well I can do what I need to do, I don't need to be a pretender to anyone now.

Happy cycling

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/61973885

http://connect.garmin.com/player/61973885

Got to promise not to stop when I say when

Happy new year to you, wherever you are in the world.

At the moment of midnight on New Year's Day, all was definitely not quiet for me, Mrs Mendip Rouleur and Junior Mendip Rouleur. We were underneath the Eiffel Tower, watching the crackling, sparkling lights and soaking up the atmosphere of the crowds and the impromptu fireworks. Paris rarely has official fireworks on NYD, probably frowned on somewhat, doesn't quite fit the chic culture, and it would require too much protocol. But locals let them off anyway, usually dangerously, of which I am firmly in favour.

We had a fairly hectic four days, all the usual sights and activities for a city-break, but I enjoyed three things the most, from sublime (the Musee d'Orsay of course) to the prosaic (the bread, can any nation be better at bread-making than the French?) to the ridiculous (I am talking about the final corner in the Tour on the Place de la Concorde-blimey, how there aren't more pile-ups I will never know).

So the New cycling year started today. Skip and I decided to make it a late start, 11AM no less. Both of us had been carbo-loading last night, she with her extended New year gathering of the clans, me because I couldn't cane it for NY Eve because I had to drive home from the airport yesterday, so made up for lost time. It was also Skip's first time on a bike for three weeks, and it's true, you never forget how to ride. But I think she had a bit, no a lot, more sauce than me, a few too many tabs, and a lot less sleep.

We did the predictable thing and headed for Glastonbury. I think I have just about got used to the green stuff everywhere now, after weeks of snow and ice on the fields, the grass makes such a welcome sight. Not as welcome as ice-free roads and occasional dry tarmac, and almost tolerable temperatures.

We had our coffee and (me only) ginger cake, outside the cafe, and were suitably rewarded by the arrival of four gunning motorbikes, Harleys and the like, driven with magnificent aplomb by leather-clad bikers. With the usual purple and green hues of the hippies, our lycra, and the bemused tourists it all made for an eclectic mix.

On the way home we looped around Street to warm up, before deciding to come straight back. We did do a fair amount of chatting today, it was nice to get out in the fresh air and push the body into life, I've been cooped up for everlong. It's only January 2nd after all, and plenty of time to go before our events. We are both going to have to start doing a few more hills again. We have both got places in the Dragon Ride, which sold out in 18 hours, showing how the MAMIL trend is not slowing down. Interesting times I think. Despite feeling like we were ambling, we still made pretty good time, and I rounded the mileage up to 41 miles by looping round Winscombe and up my eponymous hill.

http://connect.garmin.com/player/61570046