Wanted to do 20 or so while the weather’s still nice. But although I stopped work early, I left it until abut 18:30 before setting off, to give the heat out there a chance to dissipate a bit. I did a Twycross Bypasser.
Glorious out there, especially in the last hour before sunset. I was tempted to stop at San Giovanni for a cheeky outdoor margarita, but I didn’t have a front light with me and I’d already extended the ride a bit by doing the Warton extension to the west.
Forgot to take a DAB personal or MP3 player with me, but I didn’t really miss the in-flight entertainment. I did have my phone, but no earbuds.
Lovely view of the sun as a dark orange ball above the horizon a few minutes before sunset. Of course I only looked at it very briefly.
Back a couple of minutes after it had gone down on 29.80 miles, and that takes me to 443 this month, 2901 this year. I’m sure there’s time for another 100 before the end of July.
Attentive readers will remember that I performed a 200 mile bike ride to Norfolk and back, one day last June. I’d been hoping to do a similar ride using a more efficient 170 mile route this year for a while, and yesterday looked like suitable weather for it. It would be uncomfortably hot for a couple of hours in the afternoon, but cooler to the east. I’d be able to wear light clothing all day, which is just what you want on a long ride.
I set off at 04:40. I was actually on call until 08:00. If I’d got a call before 06:00 or so I’d have turned back, if absolutely necessary, to attend to it. If I got one later than that but earlier than 07:30 I’d be stuffed, but I assessed the risk as being very slight. I thought this would probably bother me over the first couple of hours but actually I pretty much forgot about it.
A little bit cooler than I’d have liked first thing in the morning, but not uncomfortable. I really enjoyed myself from the first turn of the cranks. A big contrast to my 200 miler when I was cold and a bit out of sorts for the first 35 miles. But I hadn’t slept particularly well if at all that time; this time I did get a few hours of sleep before I sprang out of bed at about 04:00.
Really nice to be out in the open countryside so early in the day. The fields near the river at Zouch were shrouded in ground mist illuminated by the early morning sunlight. Spectacular.
I encountered my first problem a few miles west of Bourne. I’d been ignoring ROAD CLOSED signs for about five miles, assuming that I’d probably be able to sneak past whatever road works were taking place – which is usually the case. However, metal barriers had been placed right across the width of the road. My negotiations with one of the workers at the scene, in charge of a mechanical digger, did not prove fruitful. He wasn’t going to let me wrestle the bike through the bush at the edge of the barriers.
So I tracked back, and followed the long, annoying detour along a slow, narrow, extravagantly potholed road to circumnavigate the road works.
Not long after Bourne, I re-acquainted myself with the flat Fenland part of Lincolnshire. Very distinctive part of the country with long, straight roads lined by drainage channels. Deathly quiet, as well. A bit of a post-apocalyptic vibe, somehow reinforced by the blinding sunshine.
My next problem arose not long after I’d stopped to refuel (a cheese sandwich and bottle of fizzy drink) at a shop on the outskirts of Spalding. My Garmin eTrex, to which I’d uploaded a map of the route, stopped working properly. The LCD screen became washed out and unreadable. It’s done this once or twice in the past and I’d thought it was probably a firmware bug. It’s always corrected itself after a minute. But now it was persistent; unusable. I suspect it’s a hardware fault that’s provoked by the heat. It had been standing in the sun outside the shop.
I pressed on regardless, hoping to navigate to my endpoint, the Norfolk border east of Sutton Bridge, from memory. This wasn’t successful, unfortunately. I took another wrong turn not long after this, and had to resort to using Google Maps on my phone to get back on track. Eventually at Fleet Hargate, about six miles from target, I decided to turn back. I knew I’d have to take the detour near Bourne again and I didn’t doubt I’d misnavigate again on the way there at least once (and I did; I missed a turn at Tongue End and continued down to Baston).
The hot sun was merciless for a couple of hours in mid-afternoon, but I knew it would be. Worth it to able to have relative warmth for the last couple of hours after 20:00. I stopped at a village shop at Buckminster and had an egg mayonnaise sandwich, a sausage roll, chocolate ice-cream and another 700ml of fluids. I doubt that this would be considered the best sort of athletic nutrition by a sports dietician, but it works for me.
Despite the detour and navigation errors I’d made better time than I thought I might by the time I was back in familiar territory, west of the A1 so I indulged a deliberate diversion through Hoton, Wymeswold and Rempstone. The last 30 or so of a 150+ mile ride can be harrowing when it’s cold and dark, but I remained in good spirits throughout. Warm weather and a late sunset helps a lot. Having a decent rest stop 45 miles from home was invaluable as well, I’m sure. Another thing that kept my spirits buoyant all day was the unusual number of women out and about in tiny shorts, in the various villages and towns. That sort of thing really elevates my mood. I’m sorry. It just does.
Although my Garmin eTrex let me down, my solar-assisted Garmin Instinct GPS watch performed like a champ – it still had 36% of juice left (about ten hours) after tracking the ride for eighteen hours. Brilliant to have an unobtrusive, lightweight GPS device that can be trusted to track the longest ride. Even in dull conditions I believe I could get 200 miles from it.
I listened to an entertaining, and encouragingly civil discussion between Alastair Campbell and Peter Hitchens, about the easing of the COVID restrictions on Naga Munchetty’s 5 Live show. One is as congenitally dishonest as the other is barking mad, it seems to me. This was of course “Freedom Day”, a term I personally dislike quite a bit because it has been taken to heart by people of a certain persuasion as a sort of clarion call for their right, as they see it, to pretend that life should go on as if the virus no longer existed.
I also finished off my audiobook, Pushing Ice. Having consumed the whole thing now I must say it’s an ultimately unsatisfying product. The payoff doesn’t quite work and it’s much too self-indulgent and rambling. It’s a bit like a really good sci-fi novel, a decent sequel and a pretty incoherent, dead-horse-flogging second sequel all crammed into the same book. That said, there are some amazing ideas in there, really mind-expanding stuff. And some dark comedy. I love the description of the Musk Dogs, a highly factional, alien species, each of which resembles “two or three scabby street dogs fighting over a scrap of meat; an unruly mass of mismatched limbs .. too many packed eyes above a toothsome black muzzle”. Unfortunately they work quite well as a metaphor for the book.
My knees were hurting a bit after 150 miles but definitely not as much as last time I did that many, last year. Still improving. No worries.
Anyway – frustrating that I didn’t quite make my intended destination – I’d been looking forward to spending a few minutes looking over the River Nene. But a good run out nonetheless. 172 miles.
A glorious, warm summer day. I’m on call, doing something else this afternoon and want to reserve my energy for a possible long ride on Monday, but I thought I’d crank out 20 or so before the temperature increases too much. I wore my skimpiest, paper-thin meshy camo top and shorts.
Already I can imagine reading this post again in six months’ time and barely being able to imagine the conditions. But actually going out wrapped up in the winter cold and dark has its charm as well. I can do without it for a bit longer, though.
I did a pretty standard truncated Twycrosser. I realised after half a mile or so that I hadn’t brought my phone with me so no photos, because I thought I’d press on and take the risk that I’d be called from work. It was unlikely.
And yet I did have two missed work calls when I got back a couple of hours later. Happily they both concerned a problem that I’d already fixed when they called me at 0800 this morning. They sometimes don’t quite know what they’re doing.
Warm and sunny again. I’m on call but thought I might crank out 40 or so after work. No real route or plan in mind, even as I set off, except not to venture too far from home.
I took the X, only because I hadn’t used it for a couple of months. Since buying the Roubaix then bringing my second Boardman home from my mum’s garage there’s no doubt that I have at least one bike too many now. Not worth the space it’s taking up in the garage, whichever one it is.
What I could do I suppose, is do something to the X to make it a bit different. Put straight bars on it or something.
Anyway it rolled along pleasantly enough and I rode up through Coalville to Belton, then west through Diseworth, Breedon, sharp turn up to Melbourne then to Ticknall. I took this pic a mile or two from Ticknall. Love the view from the top of that hill.
From Ticknall I took the detour through Hartshorne to get me out of ascending Bastard Hill. The detour probably involves more climbing overall but it doesn’t have the psychological brutality of having to do most of it over a short distance.
Took this one at Ashby, five miles from home.
I was a bit disappointed that I reached Ashby as quickly as I did. Thought I’d have done about 35 by then, but I took a quicker way back from Hartshorne, along a road called Manchester Lane that I used a couple of times years ago then forgot about. It’s pleasant but a bit climby.
Must admit I did feel guilty approaching the garage with a couple of hours of warm daylight left. But oh well, I might do a long one on Monday and the weather looks nice until Saturday.
Listened to LBC, then more Pushing Ice, then Marc Riley on 6 Music. My enjoyment was diminished somewhat by the failure of my right earplug. It’s gone inexplicably quiet. Fortunately I have loads of them so I’ve binned it.
Warm again, a bit overcast but dry. Not much time this evening but I thought I’d probably get 30 miles in. I did a Twycross Bypasser, taking in a short section of the Dad’s Army route.
Really nice out there, especially when the sun came out. I tuned into the 5 Live Drive programme to start off with. I kind of knew what would happen, and sadly, I wasn’t wrong. A few racist pricks have offered the BBC all the excuse it needs for another race-baiting festival, and this afternoon’s programme featured a live broadcast from the Marcus Rashford mural.
Marcus is especially dear to the BBC of course, because he is perceived as a sort of de-facto, ad-hoc opposition to the government. But they will bang on about race for weeks now.
So I turned it off and listened to more of my audiobook, Pushing Ice. Still enjoying it although it has morphed into a second story now. Also it has a lot of content that, while interesting, is not really necessary to the plot. Could have been an absolutely belting book if it was shorter and more focussed. Still very good though.
Noticed a lot of those little black beetles scurrying across the road in front of me. They always take the most direct route, at right angles to the edge of the road. Those little bastards are more intelligent than they are letting on.
A dry, warm day. Feeling a little bit debilitated from drinking every day on holiday last week and I had a couple after I got back yesterday, too. On top of that my knees felt a little tender from walking up and down coastal paths in Devon for a week.
But I’d only had one cycling opportunity so far this month and I’m on call next week, so I resolved to do a Fondo. To keep it easy I thought I’d have a nice, simple run out to Eastwell and back. The default Fondo.
I woke from an unusual dream this morning in which I was cleaning my white leather and suede cycling shoes. In the dream I had a huge emotional attachment to them, as a symbol of my cycling habit this last 6.5 years. When I woke, I realised that they didn’t exist.
My knees coped OK and I felt a lot better after a cheese & onion pasty, acquired at the garage at Burton on the Wolds. But I took it easy anyway.
Simply because I’ve only used it once since I replaced the rear mech, I decided to take the Boardman. And I realised after about ten miles or so that I’d come out without a spare inner tube – I took the saddle bag off when I cleaned it in May, and never put it back. After that I toyed with the idea of turning back early and making up the Fondo miles closer to home, but ultimately I decided to press on. The probability of picking up a puncture over 20 miles from home seemed pretty low.
I turned back at the crossroads near Eastwell. I was slightly annoyed to experience a headwind now and then on the way back, because the weather forecast had promised me a sidewind both ways. I came back through Long Whatton, Diseworth and Coleorton, which added a few miles.
I listened mostly to Pushing Ice but also, on and off, to the Men’s Singles Final at Wimbledon.
Quite a few cyclists out today, no less than three of them black people. I only mention this because it’s quite rare to see a black person on a bike in the East Midlands; typically I see one every couple of months. So that was unusual, and good to see.
65.25, 151 this month, not bad for two rides. Should be able to push that up to 400 by the end of the month, I think.
I’ve been hoping a suitable day for another long ride out to Norfolk and back would turn up while the daylight hours are in plentiful supply, and today looked like it – not too warm, not overly cold in the morning, sunny but with a bit of respite from light cloud, very light wind.
Unfortunately I couldn’t spare the time, today. Stuff to do this evening at home. However I thought I could at least get a Fondo in; maybe even a 100 miler.
I set off fairly late, though. I wanted the temperature to climb a bit first. I left at about 09:40.
Quite cloudy and cool for the first hour and a half or so. I had legwarmers on, and a light fleece over the base layer. I took them off after 25 miles, but they were only really useful for the first 15. I regretted bringing them, and having to carry them round the rest of the ride in a backpack. I should just have tolerated the conditions for the first fifteen miles.
Once or twice in the past I’ve used a disposable t-shirt – that I’ve been about to throw out anyway – for the first part of a ride, and left it in a litter bin at a village along the way. Maybe I should have done that.
Anyway beautifully warm and sunny after Burton on the Wolds or so. The idea was to press along the “new” Norfolk route that goes through Walltham, and see how far I got. I decided to turn back after about 42 miles. Very frustrating as I really wanted to press on onto the flat bit of Lincolnshire, just a few miles to the east. It was a lovely route and beautiful weather.
Maybe later in the year.
Listened mainly to Pushing Ice, my sci-fi audiobook which has now taken a turn for the slightly bizarre.
I picked up some refreshments at a deli in Stonesby and had a nice lunch on a bench there. On the way back a couple of hours later I stopped at the same place to get a fizzy drink but just as I was parking up the bike outside their door and pulling off my gloves, one of the ladies working there came and closed the door more or less in my face, turning the sign to CLOSED. Charming. But it was 3pm exactly. Rules are rules!
Fortunately the Post Office a few metres further along the road was open and I purchased a chilled Lucozade and a Bounty bar there.
No particularly interesting wildlife, but I did see a toadstool the size of a tea plate on a grass verge.
Not much time tonight but I thought I’d get 20 or so in after work. The idea was to do a short Twycrosser. But since the weather was quite nice I thought I’d take a pair of binoculars with me in a backpack and examine the view to the west from near Little Orton, a road that bypasses Twycross. I did that. I noticed a tower block about (at a guess) 10 miles in the distance, which I think might be at Tamworth. I will take a compass and a camera with a telephoto lens some time soon, possibly not on a bike though.
Nice weather. Warm, mostly cloudy but the sun did come out for a bit.
Realised I was going to be back in substantially more than 20 miles by the time I got to Orton Lane, and I was pushed for time. So I mentally plotted the shortest route back. Not correctly, as it turns out. I took the A road, then Gibbet Lane from Twycross. Looking at the route on a map, straight up to Snarestone would have been quicker. But I was back in time in any case.
Listened to England vs Germany on 5 Live, and I must admit that despite my disdain for Southgate and his ridiculous indulgence of virtue-signalling identity politics, as the match wore on I started to hope that we might knock the Germans out of a tournament for a change. Perversely, the first England goal just made me nervous. It’s the hope that kills you and I couldn’t help but suppose that they’d get a last gasp equaliser that would lead, after a mutually frustrating period of extra time, to a penalty competition.
But that’s not what happened. The second goal went in just as I was closing the garage door on the bike. Good times.
A mainly dry day with a slight threat of showers, and for a change the wind was coming from the east. I got up early-ish and decided to do the classic eastbound Fondo.
I thought I’d try my leg warmers – it definitely wasn’t quite warm enough for bare legs, and they’re a bit more substantial than my usual cycling tights. I actually hadn’t used them for years. Worked out pretty well. As it turned out I wasn’t really warm enough to want to take them off until the last five miles, and I didn’t bother.
I noticed I was getting a lot of waves, today. I mean a reasonable proportion of fellow cyclists often nod or wave naturally, and I return the courtesy of course but today pretty much everyone wanted to have a go. Is it because the leg warmers have a ridiculous tarty design with the manufacturer’s branding all over them, that shouts “serious cyclist” and makes such pleasantries more gratifying? I don’t know. I only bought them because they were cheap.
Anyway I got to the crossroads near Eastwell, my usual eastbound Fondo endpoint, but took a right to Waltham again, same as last time I did this route. This time though I went no further. Stopped at a bench there to eat the cheese rolls I’d brought with me and took this pic. Then I turned back.
I stopped at a garage at Burton on the Wolds to get more fuel (a cheese & beetroot sandwich and a Malteser bar) on the way back, and stopped at my favourite enormous log near Cotes. Again, I took a pic.
The headwind on the eastward leg of the journey wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Made me think I should have done a longer ride, really, especially since the nights are now getting shorter. I’d like to do Wales and back this year, although the wind direction wasn’t right for that today. But I’m pleased to have done three Fondos in June.
I absorbed more Pushing Ice, the Alastair Reynolds book I’ve been listening to. I wouldn’t say it’s a page turner exactly, or whatever the audiobook equivalent of that is. But it’s still got my attention. Also listened to a smorgasboard of radio covering tennis, football and most interestingly listeners’ opinions on Snog-gate on LBC. As I listened I realised that Matt’s position had become untenable, and I became convinced that he’d resign – as indeed he did, a few hours later. The most persuasive argument was offered by a contributor who suggested that if circumstances dictated that he had to ask people to lock down again later in the year, he wouldn’t be able to do so without being given endless grief by hostile journos and opposition politicians, and the message would be undermined.
Great shame because outside the fictional alternative universe the Left have constructed to make them feel better about themselves, where everything the Tories do is a disaster – Matt Hancock did an outstanding job in that role. But the Civil Service Stasi have scuppered that now.
Took the long way home back over the Leicestershire border, through Long Whatton and Coleorton.
Lovely weather again; warm, sunny and low winds. I left work as early as I could for a run out east. I entertained the idea of doing a post-work Fondo, to take advantage of the late sunset – but I could tell from a distant wind farm that I had a tailwind as I approached Six Hills, so I decided not to. I can do without a headwind on the second half of a long ride.
After 21 miles or so, I decided to turn back, but I decided to take a right turn to Ragdale first. I hadn’t been along there so I thought I’d explore for a bit. Didn’t go as far as the village of Ragdale itself. Turned for home after about half a mile. Came back the same way.
Really lovely out there, I was too warm early on but comfortable later when the temperature dropped.
Listened to Spain vs Slovakia on 5 Live. Before the game started, a Spanish pundit taking part in the coverage report that the Spanish public was apathetic about their national football team. He was asked how they’d respond if Spain won 5-0, and replied that they wouldn’t. But they did! Later I listened to the first half of France vs Portugal. Even more entertaining.
I stopped at the Greyhound pub 18 miles from home on the way back, for the first time since the pandemic started. Very nice to be back there although I’ve rolled past it quite a few times. I must say, a packet of crisps and a half San Miguel definitely gave me a boost.
Glorious run out really. The moment I locked the garage door before making my way back into the house, it started to rain! Which I hadn’t expected at all. Beautiful timing.
