A week’s holiday in Norfolk had robbed me of a week’s bike riding this month so I was happy to see that the weather was pretty much ideal yesterday to start my new hobby, sexagenarian cycling.
Warm, sunny, not much wind. I prepared by having a massively carbohydrate-potent Sunday lunch at a pub. Set off at 14:30, a little later than I’d hoped but ‘er indoors insisted on having a starter. Soup of the Day. It’s never tomato.
I’d decided on either doing the usual route out east toward Belvoir Castle and Lincolnshire, or the long route west south of Derby, along the water. I couldn’t decide which so I deferred the decision and headed up Top Brand. Either is viable from the north-most end. I decided to do the westward route.
Really very pleasant out there, though conditions actually grew warmer as the afternoon wore on. I’d worn a decently thick long-sleeved jersey in the expectation that I’d need it later in the day, so that was a slight mistake. But I wasn’t too uncomfortable.
While rolling along the A road south of Derby, I was a little disconcerted to see a pigeon lying on its back in the middle of the road, surrounded by disconnected white feathers, gleaming in the afternoon sunshine. Must have been hit by a car, couldn’t have been there long or the feathers would have dispersed.
Then as I approached it, I noticed that its claws were moving. A bit grim, but I hoped that it was already dead, regardless. Then as I passed it, it raised its head from the road surface to look down the road, over its helpless body.
I thought of stamping on its head to put it out of its misery, but I just wasn’t going to do that. I couldn’t see a large stick or other object to dispatch it with lying around, so I just continued on my way. I assume it wouldn’t have lasted long; either another car would have got it or its presumably massive internal injuries would have finished it off in the next minute or so. Hopefully.
Anyway. I got as far as Foston to the west before running out of road after 27 miles (the route joins the A50 at this point, not something you want to contemplate on a bike) and I wanted to do the Fondo distance, 62 miles so I went exploring for a bit. I took a little path called Coplow Lane, but this was a bit of a dead end. Backtracked to the main route and found another one called Hay Lane – this was really interesting, decent surface, nice view, extremely quiet. After about three miles I came to a junction at a place called Boylestone and decided to turn back again, rather than get lost. I will have to look into sorting out a route over that way for the future. Interesting area. Seems to be pretty much in the middle of nowhere, 15 miles west of Derby.
A bit later on the way back I did a bit more exploring into a village called Eggington. This seemed promising but I came to a T junction with a dual carriageway, so once again I just turned back.
I came back the same way as far as Melbourne, at which point I failed to take the correct road out of the town to continue my route in reverse, and I took a road that’s effectively a short cut home. Unfortunate as I had calculated that I’d be back home on about 62.5 miles, and I had to do a bit of faffing around by going into Coalville to get the distance up to the required Fondo measure.
I must try to memorise a mental map of Melbourne. It always confuses me.
Home on 62.62. That’s 15 Fondos this year. I was interested to see how my knees would cope with the first Fondo after the 200 miler, but they were fine. The key (I think) is to take it easy and warm them up properly. They actually felt better after 50 miles than after 20.