Half Way to Bingley

Took the afternoon off work with the intention of doing a run out to Stafford Bingley Hall and back, about 74 miles. I’d chosen this particular destination for several reasons: first, I’d have a tailwind on the way back. Second, I should mostly have the sun behind me both ways, and third: as a sort of ceremonial pilgrimage in the memory of two brilliant gigs, 40 years ago last week.

Very nice day for it on the face of it – clear blue skies, sunny, not that blowy and surprisingly, not that cold although I’d wrapped up very warm, with tights and overshoes on.

Spent twenty minutes this morning preparing in-flight snacks, fitting an eTrex mount to the Boardman (usually it lives on the X) and pumping up the tyres to spec. I set off at about 12:20.  I expected the roads to be wet here and there due to the amount of rain over the last few days.

Mostly the roads were bone dry, but here and there on lower ground I did encounter water running over the road in front of me; no more than a few mm deep I guess. No biggie, I just slowed down so as not to fling too much of it up into the cables, chain etc and continued on.

Until I got to a road junction near Croxall, where the crossing was about a foot deep in water. I snapped a moody pic that underexposed slightly:

You can’t gauge the depth of the water from the image, but cars and vans going through it were more than half a wheel deep.

I thought briefly of plotting a different route from there to Bingley but assumed I’d most likely just hit the same problem again. I’d have added some unwanted distance, anyway. Didn’t want to try more than 75 for now. So I decided simply to give up, and turn for home.

Took the same route back until I got to Measham, just 5 or 6 miles from home. Then I took a different road, to join the time-honoured Twycross route. I’d had the idea of tacking on a Twycrosser to end up on 50 miles or so. But when I got to Snarestone I just took a left for home. My failure to do a run out to Stafford had taken the wind out of my sails. What was potentially a really enjoyable run out had been ruined by weather; not in the present but over the previous few days.

I did feel slightly guilty going straight back. It was a nice day, the roads were dry enough near home and I’m sure I could have got round the Twycross route without difficulty. Furthermore the weather looks iffy for the next couple of days.

Anyway. I stopped at the Alpaca farm tearoom at Snarestone and had a coffee and a scone with jam in the garden there. One of the staff – one of the owners I think, actually – came over and struck up a conversation about my handlebar tape, wanting to know where I’d got it. She explained that she had white tape on her own bike, and it had become grubby very quickly. The perennial problem with white bar tape, of course. I don’t even know why it exists. I told her that I’d changed mine for exactly the same reason and directed her to Amazon, where I’d got mine quite cheaply.

Home on 34.81 miles which isn’t a bad start for the month, I guess. This month’s target, adjusted for the new yearly target of 4,000 miles, is 362.

Nice to go out west for a change; I don’t go that way so often. A few times over the last few years when I’ve been out on a bike and listening to the radio, news has broken about the death of some celebrity or well-known figure. Mohammed Ali, Prince, Victoria Wood for example. Today it was Peter Sissons’ turn, sadly. For some reason – well, it must just be coincidence – this only ever happens when I’m cycling over west of Ashby which is actually not very often. I’m a rational person, but it seems a bit spooky.

https://www.strava.com/activities/2757355981

I’m afraid my optimism about the bike computer and its new magnet was a bit premature, it did drop out for about .8 of a mile. I noticed this when I glanced down and it was showing 0mph. I suppose I’ll just buy a new one.

According to the forecast, temperatures will pick up a bit on Saturday and it probably won’t rain. However, the wind will be blowing from the east. If that holds true I’ll do Lincolnshire and back, all being well.

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