I wanted to do the February Fondo this weekend. The forecasts for Saturday and Sunday have both changed a few times this last week. Eventually, when it started to look like it was going to rain both days, I booked Monday off, since that was slated to be dry. Eventually that changed to rain as well.
So after a rainy morning, I set off at about 13:45 today hoping to do the requisite 62.14 miles. This afternoon seemed to offer the best opportunity of the three days.
An immoderate wind was blowing from the south, so I set off in that direction. I thought I’d go down to Stoney Stanton and then find my way onto Fosse Way and keep going.
I didn’t quite get as far as Fosse Way, however. The headwind had been pretty irritating all the way down, but after Sharnford it was intolerable – I was struggling just to keep moving forward. It was raining by this time, as well. I’d done 22 miles at this point. It’s not often I give up on a long ride, but I just couldn’t see myself battling a gale for another 9 miles, so I ran up the white flag and turned back.
The difference this made was extraordinary. I actually didn’t have to pedal for a couple of minutes, until I came to a hill. Soon it stopped raining as well, so I was thoroughly enjoying making my way back home, until I glanced down at my front wheel between Earl Shilton and Kirkby Mallory and noticed that it was travelling right on the very edge of a bit of a cliff edge down a few inches to the ditch on the side of the road. No excuse. I must have lost concentration.
I pondered briefly whether it would be safer just to guide the bike into the ditch and the sticky mud, or try to pull it back from the brink and risk toppling, when the wheel made that decision for me. It slipped over the edge and I came a cropper. I couldn’t unclip in time so I just went over sideways and clattered against the road.
I picked myself up, more embarrassed than injured, and took stock. The bike looked OK. I’d hurt my elbow and my hip, and the fleshy part of my right palm near the wrist, but it was just superficial damage. A young lady driving a car behind me pulled up alongside to check I was OK. I assured her that I was fine and thanked her very sincerely for stopping, but to her great credit she wouldn’t pull away until she was certain I was alright.
I used a disposable facemask that I had in my pocket to remove the sticky mud that was now caked onto the front wheel, and chucked it in the hedge. Sorry. It just wasn’t going back in my pocket. If I’d thought about it I would have used the sandwich bag I was using to carry a sausage roll to take it to the next bin, but I didn’t.
I had no problem riding the bike when I set off again and for a couple of minutes I thought the bike had escaped unscathed, but I noticed that rear upchanges were intermittently sluggish or reluctant. Clearly the collision with the road surface had knocked the rear Disraeli inboard a bit. I inspected it when I got back to the garage and it looks OK apart from cosmetic damage. I might be able to get away with adjusting it, or possibly bending it outboard a touch. But probably the smart thing to do at this stage would be to replace it, it’s done five figures of miles now. I’m just glad I was on the Boardman and not the S Works or the Cannondale. And of course that I didn’t seriously hurt myself.
Listened to footy on 5 Live. Burnley vs West Brom. It was dire and I was about to switch to Gilles Peterson on 6 Music when Mike Dean sent Semi Ajayi off which I thought might liven the game up a bit. But it didn’t really.
Back on 45.29 miles.
https://www.strava.com/activities/4820193823
When I told ‘er indoors about my mishap, she kicked off in a big way about me not wearing a helmet. I’ve done all of this year’s 429 miles in a woolly hat. But to be honest I wasn’t really in danger of knocking my head and I haven’t changed my view on that.