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