I listed my turbo trainer on ebay this week in a fit of utter frustration and anger. i loosely adapted my post on here. it’s been steadily attracting watchers. today it kind of went global. (in cycling terms).
How to sell a turbo trainer…
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Category Archives: training
The Turbo Trainer: Apparatus of Pain and Misery
I’m sure there are people out there who like or even have a perverse love affair with their turbo trainer. It might even attract some sort of love/hate duality. I know for a fact that some people, many of them ostensibly sane with some hideously rapid times to their name, view the turbo as the essential piece of training equipment. Personally, i’d rather rip my face off and dive into a bath of saline solution than use this horrible piece of apparatus. It’s utterly soul-destroying and mind-numbing, which is a pretty vicious combination. I hate the turbo with the same level of vitriol that i reserve for assholes like David Cameron or anyone who has a tenuous grasp on social justice.
I thought i might do a ‘quick’ turbo session this evening. The reason being that the weather is pretty terrible and i hadn’t got the time to head down to the lake for the first Chew Valley race of the season. By the time i’d sorted out the rear turbo wheel by putting a tyre on and pinching an inner tube, then changing the tyre and putting a new tube in, switching the cassette and setting up the bike and then setting up the computer with ‘The Flying Scotsman’ on the iplayer with headphones and subtitles (because of fearsome noise) to alleviate the dreadful and crushing ennui of it all and then got changed and put some water within reach and found my sweaty turbo towel that hasn’t been washed since the last time i dared to ride the bastard (turbo, not turbo towel) and wrestled with the quick release mechanism and then adjusted the height with a series of books under the front wheel by getting on and off about four times then adjusting the saddle height then going back and adjusting the resistance about 6 times with the manual turny thing, i’d wasted about 55 minutes. This was about as long as i intended to spend on the bastard piece of shit.
I managed about 11 minutes at about 70% of max before two things happened. The iplayer began to freeze and unfreeze, robbing me of the only thing that helped me think that i wasn’t actually on the turbo, and then without warning the back wheel leapt out of the dropout clasps and i had to do an emergency unclip and braking manouevre ON THE GODDAMNED TURBO just to stay alive. i suddenly lurched towards the computer screen where Graeme Obree was riding off the front of some sort of Tour of the Scottish Prettylands in the early part of the film.
I staggered off and went into the lounge and issued Belle with the following imperative:
“If i ever, ever, ever say i’m going to go on the turbo, ever again, then tell me to forget about it and get the hell out and ride my bike, whatever the weather. do that for me, please, promise me.”
She looked nervous and agreed. In the meantime, if anyone wants a Cyclops Turbo, lightly used, then ask.
Rain Rain FUCK THE FUCK OFF
I think that’s how the nursery rhyme goes.
After my exertions of the weekend i started to pick things up again on tuesday, heading out for my usual pre-work hilly training ride. I surprised myself, i had good legs. furthermore, there seemed to be no head or tailwind for the first time in living memory. I went up and over Dundry and then up Belmont.
On Belmont’s vertiginous lower slopes i looked down at the chainrings and noticed there was an alarming amount of flex or lateral movement with each pedal stroke. i resolved to look at it later when i got home. at the time i presumed it may have been because i’d been running the inner ring on my fixed wheel over winter and this possibly might have bent it a bit. but what the hell, i’m not robert forstermann. i ignored it and carried on riding.
oooh la la, that's a lot of leg
I was listening to music; this sometimes helps and can make the ride feel a bit different. occasionally it can stifle the pained squeak of a badly-fettled bicycle part, and I fear this may have happened on this occasion. I rode on along Beggar’s Bush Lane and enjoyed the pace and speed. I felt good, and like Ralph the Rover, had no fear of impending disaster.
I was about five miles from work when some bad stuff happened. There are mechanicals, and there are mechanicals. (and there also the mechanicals, who feature heavily in a Midsummer Night’s Dream, a group of craftsmen who also enjoy amateur dramatics and like to gambol in the woods and get in the way of courting Athenian lovers).
I was out of the saddle, honking up to the downs from the top of bridge valley road when my chain unshipped and i nearly emasculated myself on my shiny cinelli stem. i stopped and attempted to flick it back across and on but to no avail. i looked down more closely and realised my chainrings were no longer properly attached to my bicycle, but rattling around like some filthy dancing hippy’s bangles at the front of a hawkwind set at glastonbury.
not one, not two, but THREE chainring bolts had mysteriously vanished. I had only two left, and they were about to follow their suicidal brethren and leap into the void.
i hastily rearranged the remaining two and limped the last 4 miles to work, anxiously checking every 2 minutes to see if it was still hanging together. I rode home in the evening accompanied by a horrific scream of grinding metal, scraping with each pedal stroke. in truth, it was a minor mechanical because i could ride home.
i’ve had an additional rest day today on account of the abhorrent weather. I made use of the extra time by massively overtightening every chainring bolt in the house. this may lead to complications under the ‘law of unintended consequences’ at some point in the future, but it’s a risk i’ve got to take. this weekend sees a fast 10 (weather permitting) and the Beacon Roads Mountain Time Trial, which is in short, one of the best time trials in the world and hideously tough. I am currently undecided as to whether i should take the uber weapon of the c-bomb…
Riding Across the Cotswolds
Hubris ( /ˈhjuːbrɪs/), also hybris, means extreme pride or arrogance. Hubris often indicates a loss of contact with reality and an overestimation of one’s own competence or capabilities, especially when the person exhibiting it is in a position of power.
The adjective form of hubris is “hubristic”.
Today I managed a PB on my commute to work. The average speed for the 12 mile journey was a shade over 12 miles an hour. It’s a form of evens. Technically, today was a rest day but due to the unscheduled car mishap I had to ride. I took it very slowly. I think it might even be a PB by as much as 10 minutes. It was a genuinely impressive achievement and certainly more than a marginal gain.
Steve sent me a text earlier; he went out today after riding hard and fast in yesterday’s Betty Pharoah road race:
taking your lead, i went for a long hubristic ride in the wind and rain today. with rain-smashed legs and just a banana, I bonked HARD and crawled up the gorge into a tormenting headwind. haven’t fucked myself over like that in a long time. there would have been tears if i could have spared the energy.
Yesterday i set out early on a scheduled ride to Cheltenham, whereupon I was to meet with the inlaws and wife for a lovely luncheon. The wife opted to drive. She is still feeling the after effects of a 55 mile Tintern Trek with Suzi Douchebag, the Audax Queen, and a nice spin up and over the Cotswolds did not particularly appeal. I planned to take my Condor, which I am going to be using for some road races next month, and ride the route at a hefty lick. The weather forecast put the kibosh on that, and what with the Ark not being quite ready yet, i opted to take the Mercian with its full mudguards and the guarantee of a dry ass, rather than the guarantee of a mud-splattered obscenity stripe across the gusset and ass crack.
On the way out i felt positively super-charged. There was a gift tailwind, and as is the norm with all gift tailwinds, i managed to convince myself that it was only a mild tailwind and the reailty was that I was super strong. I tore up the climb out of Wotton, pausing only briefly to exchange pleasantries with a Bristol South rider labouring up the lower reaches. There were two other nasty climbs, one of which wasn’t that nasty but merely a bit long, before a fast descent to Cheltenham. I averaged over 20mph for the ride with 2615ft of climbing. I felt quite pleased with myself, i even felt some form of vague pride.
I had a lovely lunch. It was delicious. Fortified with ginger and treacle pudding i decided to ride home again. Through a process of elimination I can now deduce that this initial decision may have been the cause of subsequent events. I can certainly deduce that I experience both ‘a loss of contact with reality and an overestimation of my competence and capabilities’, especially when i opted to start the ride with an ascent of Birdlip. I can safely say that this climb is a purgatory for cyclists and both times i’ve ridden it I’ve had real difficulty. It pitches up nastily in several key sections and averages 10% for the 2 miles. It’s disgusting. Last time i rode it i used a 68″ gear which was nearly fatal. This time i’d opted to use a range of gears and still it wreaked considerable havoc on my sense of being. I survived, and in due course I felt fine. I even managed Selsey Hill without too much bother. Things were looking up, I got to Wotton with about 25 miles to go and most of the climbing in the bag. I was feeling good and the sun was shining. Thus far for the entirety of both rides I had avoided the rain. I even seemed to have avoided the worst of the headwinds. I chatted to a random stranger whilst eating a flapjack, he was impressed by my efforts and asked me how i felt about the remaining 25 miles to come.
A Piece of Cake (picture courtesy of The Cherry on Top)
I left Wotton and headed towards Kingswood. The road surface had been replaced with a sort of loose aggregate which makes riding difficult. A roaring headwind suddenly picked up out of nowhere, racing across the estuary with merciless force. I could just about cope. Up ahead grey and darkening clouds massed in formation and the wind picked up further. I finally encountered my first rainfall of the day, initially a gentle few drops which then gathered in momentum. I stopped briefly under a railway arch somewhere north of Nowhere-by-Wickwar to don my overshoes, but before i could pedal off the rain suddenly poured down, so I opted to stay put. Within minutes it turned into freezing hail and continued unabated for around 10 minutes. I felt glad to be dry, but also experienced that curious dilemma, wondering whether to press on or wait…
It eventually eased and I headed out. The headwind remained the same, dispiriting and soul-destroying. After 80 hilly miles ridden at pace i was starting to suffer. I hunkered low on the drops and tried to carry on regardless, but my spirits sagged like a week old birthday balloon stuck in a hedge. I knew I had a mere 18 miles to go but was struggling, and it was the blustery, horrible headwind that broke me. I crossed the ring road with my average speed dropping through the floor and limped back through Bristol, my legs were shot to pieces, undercarriage malfunctioning, and spirits no longer soaring. I just made it home.
Riding in a Crosswind
It’s been a hectic weekend. today was an epic day in the saddle – i’ll save the narrative for another post though. Yesterday was the Yeovil 10; it’s an event i’ve done a couple of years running now. I decided to treat the weekend as a training session, the 10 included. The plan was to ride more slowly out of the gate so i don’t blow up in the last 2 miles. it takes a lot of nerve to hold off at the beginning, when you’re feeling fresh, but it’s a good strategy.
It was very windy and there was a threat of squally rain in the air, luckily it held off. The winds were across the road rather than a straight head/tail combination. this meant that speeds in general were down, but not hugely. I was 30 seconds slower than last year. I was also a bit edgy because Andy Legge, the BSCC captain, has been riding like a man possessed this season and his dad made the journey over from Spain to watch him race. I’m not sure he came over solely to watch the Yeovil ten mile time trial on the A303, but you never know. John is a club legend with a number of records still on the books.
Andy was about 20 seconds slower, but still turned in a good time, as did Danny, which meant we took home the team prize. I took 3rd place ahead of Jon Wynn, the first time this has ever happened, he’s super fast and built like a brick outhouse. With the money from the podium placing and the team prize it means i’ve just about covered my costs. However, I didn’t bargain for breaking down on the way home and waiting for the AA, before paying big money out to get a tow home.
I seemed to have broken down in a very long and very straight strange somerset corridor of nothingness. It reminded me of the film ‘Radio On’. I had a lot of time to kill so i took some photos. By a process of deduction I realised it was the Fosse Way, an old Roman Road.
Roman era bus depot
shop last open in roman times
switched to cards with the demise of the sestertius
flowers
i got home really late. At one point i contemplated putting the skinsuit back on and riding home, it would have been quicker.
Where Do I Start, Where Do I Begin?
There’s a thread on a well-known internet forum congratulating the Drag2Zero boys on their astonishing start to the season, with particular emphasis on the violent destruction of the National 25 Mile Time Trial Competition record last weekend. It needed a 30mph+ ride from each of the 3 counters, and then some.
Drag2Zero are a racing team; a hand-picked group of extraordinarily committed and fast cyclists. This year they added both Jeff Jones and Matt Bottrill to their roster. Behind the team is Simon Smart who used to work in formula one. He is a scientist with a specialism in aerodynamics; an expert at reducing drag through the use of a wind tunnel. Here’s Simon in full flow:
He’s a very nice chap. I met him at a 10 last year. My instinct was to ask him what equipment gives you the biggest gains for the smallest amount of money, or what helmet I should use, but it’s a useless question because the dynamics involved mean it’s different for the individual.
The thread congratulates the team on their results, and also gives a lot of credence to the notion of wind-tunnel testing. Personally, i think it’s the thin end of a very thick wedge; one which starts with a phenemonal amount of hard work and a strict, unyeilding training regime, before going through the right equipment, and the getting of a coach, then finally ending up with the tunnel as one of the last areas to achieve gains. I’ve seen the level of work put in by riders like Jeff, and it is staggering. He’s been riding for years in the colours of Chippenham and District, making progress year on year until last season where he won both the BBAR and broke the 12 hour national record.
I train hard and i have some fairly decent equipment. Occasionally i have ridden set distances relatively quickly. I am fairly fast for a club cyclist. However, i don’t have a powermeter, or a coach, and most of my really spangly bike-porn is second hand. My disc wheel is a case in point, it came in at around £300 – not a small sum, but minuscule in comparison to the price of a new zipp sub-9 with a powertap. The cost of a wind tunnel session is £900. For most people who have reached the point where they have considered, or even taken part in tunnel-testing, it’s likely to have been at the thin end, and they are often athletes with a genuine sporting pedigree, despite their status in a predominantly amateur sport.
At some point you have to draw the line, but where that line sits is very difficult to ascertain. It’s clearly linked to how much disposable income you have, and how much you are prepared to ‘buy time’ in pursuit of an amateur sport or all-consuming hobby. I think it also always comes back to one thing; prior to making any expensive investment of this nature it’s probably best to ensure you’ve fine-tuned the inexpensive things first: namely your personal fitness.
Down to Earth With a Bump
Yesterday was an eventful day. It was my first foray into the Classic League; the club’s annual time trial series. The first few races are held at Aust, in the shadow of the severn bridge and not far from the old ferry crossing, famously visited by his royal Bobness on his landmark electric/folk judas tour in 1966. I’m not sure if he was in town for the time trial or not.
Looks like a climber to me. (Barry Feinstein Image)
The weather for the race was a lot nicer than it was for Robert Zimmerman. The wind dropped and we had some late-evening sunshine.
i decided to ride out to the start in a slightly circuitous fashion and treat the whole endeavour as a training ride. The loose plan was to ride a slightly hilly 20 miles out, do the 5.2 mile TT, then ride home a further 15 miles, with the out and back being fairly hard, but not so hard that i couldn’t sustain it. You get into a fairly remorseless rhythm; for me it’s around 25mph or so, maybe a bit more, with heart rate at around 80%.
The first bit went well, then i dropped down to the suspension bridge coming back into Bristol. A car in front was doing a steady 15mph. I was behind – and certainly quite near, trusting in two things, that they would continuing moving at the same pace, and that the cycle lane belonged to me. They started to drift into the cycle lane, so i shouted, fairly benignly, to ask them to vacate it – but they didn’t hear. The driver then swerved suddenly across right into the lane and stopped. I presume he was checking his change for the bridge. I had no time to make any kind of decision, slammed on the front brake as i hit the car on the side and went straight over the handlebars pretty quickly, ending up wedged between the car and half on the pavement with my bike on top of me and a freaked-out looking driver nervously getting out of his car.
When you have a crash like this there’s a couple of things to consider, usually in a set order. Firstly, I checked to see if i could stand up, walk, raise arms, and made sure nothing was broken. Then i checked the bike thoroughly. The bike is absolutely fine, no damage whatsoever. My helmet is cracked and scraped though and there is a massive hole in my assos skinsuit.
this is what the crash looked like. see speed drop from 16mph to 0 at the beginning of the trace.
i had a lengthy conversation with the driver, he was quite shook up as well. he gave me some wetwipes to clean my face and shoulder. After that i decided to ride across and down bridge valley road at which point i’d decide whether i wanted to race or not. it’s hard to know what to do in the aftermath of a spill, and is best to sit still for a while. Heading across the bridge i got caught in a massive hailstorm and then had to shelter in the public toilets. it was quite an eventful few minutes.
it looks like i've stuck my shoulder in a tin of dulux matt emulsion
i can heartily recommend prendas baselayers. they are the bees knees.
once i got to the bottom of the hill i decided to ride out to the start. i was running a bit late by now so had to get on it. once i got up to speed the pain dissipated somewhat. I tacked along and made it just in time.
the race was comparatively uneventful. i rode as fast as i could, didn’t worry too much about pacing it, and managed an 11.02, which is an improvement on my PB of one second. i was a bit disappointed not to go faster but it wasn’t ideal conditions and also it didn’t help that i’d crashed heavily on the way over. It was good enough for the win by around 30 seconds. Somehow i’d like to find a further 20 seconds in the next two weeks. It was just one of those days where i thought i was going to really fly but didn’t actually go that fast.
We all rode back in a sort of TT and road bike convoy. I rode on front almost the whole time because i was still looking to do a bit more training. the others seemed happy to follow. I was glad to get home and have a bath. I’m a bit sore this morning but am optimistic that i will be fine in time for Sunday and the fastest course in christendom.
statistics:
total of 40 miles @ 21.5mph average; 1 x 5.2 mile TT @ 28.3mph; one violent collision from 16mph to 0mph in 70 cm; one energy gel consumed
Life/Cycling Balance
it’s been a ridiculously busy week, one those utter humdingers where you don’t even have a moment to yourself. i worked three 12 hours days on the bounce and then went to London. in amongst the work i tried to keep cycling, getting up at six to go out and do an hour before work with a couple of hills. the weather continues to be absolutely lovely and i’m now resting ahead of the weekend’s race.
this morning i went out up over dundry, it’s one of my favourite climbs because it’s long and relatively shallow before pitching up in a short series of nasty little kicks at the end. the view as you gain height up over Bristol is lovely, especially in the crisp morning air. i then cut across towards Belmont – sometimes i go on up and over Redhill but this adds a further 5 or 6 miles and i really don’t have an awful lot of time; it’s a very tight window and i have to ensure i’m really on the ball if i take the extended detour.
Belmont is a very popular climb on the edge of Bristol, used by most of the local roadies. it’s about a mile and a half with some changes in gradient and is a tough climb, it’s very easy to overcook the beginning. I’ve ridden up it very fast indeed and this makes life hard because i find it hard to get near that on a day to day basis. it’s a big segment on Strava and the top spot in the high score table is taken by Scott Easter who rides for Felt and is an elite mountain biker. He managed a 3.41. there was a hefty tailwind that day, i know this because i grovelled into it going the other way on my commute. a couple of days previously on a becalmed afternoon i managed a 3.44. Anything under 4 minutes, not in a hillclimb (without the benefit of wearing the number) is a very quick time. today i scraped to a 4.04, with my bag of school stuff – clothes, sandwiches, fruit, books and so on. i think that in clement conditions i can probably go quite a bit quicker, but it’s about choosing the right day – or waiting for a hillclimb, in which case it doesn’t really matter, you just muller it right through. at the top i came across a friend, Adam, who was out and about on his lovely Mercian at 7am. the sun was radiantly bright and the stillness of the morning felt lovely, the first warming spring day. it’s the best part of the day.
post belmont.
this weekend i’m riding in the Bath WTTA event. I don’t think a podium is in reach because lots of very strong cyclists are riding, but i will give it everything. the course is sufficiently hilly to suit me, so i live in hope.
The BSCC roadmen are riding tomorrow at Blackawton in a two-day race. It’s brilliant to see the red and gold out and about.
the rock island line is a mighty good road
and here’s some leadbelly:
The Pain of the Fast and Hilly Time Trial
my legs are currently in bits. this is the technical term for when you’ve really cooked it and they are very hurty. this is the current state of my legs. i also feel a bit full because i just ate lots of spinach and eggs and bread and quorn sausages.
today i rode out to the start of the Severn Hardrider, keeping it resolutely old school. All i needed was some wheel carriers and i would have scored maximum points. it was a 15 mile ride with a couple of big hills. i kept it slow and steady and avoided the tribars. riding out to an event is an odd experience. i left the house at around 7am, which was pretty early. i caught sight of drunks and stop-outs making their way home. i think i made for an odd image with my full TT bike and aero-helmet. I hoped to avoid any hilarious comments and also to make it to the HQ without any mechanical issues. i managed both. alec baskaya summed it up better than i can.
The Severn event is hilly, but doesn’t contain any really mammoth climbs, instead it undulates and rolls like an ocean swell with some fast descents and short, savage lumps. there is also the worst section of road in christendom, a long drag with a cratered surface, low grade tarmac and usually a nasty headwind – although not today, fortunately. on strava i have labelled this ‘the lumpy ass drag to hell’.
Again, i rode pretty much on feel, keeping an eye on how fast i was going in terms of average speed and how far there was left. this event went past in the wink of a young girl’s eye. glory days. it was over almost before it started. it hurt a lot and I felt a sense of nasty lactic build up but tried to ignore it. my fear was that it would begin to inhibit my ability to climb quickly, but it never really got to that and like i said, the race went really quickly as time and space accelerated. Everything blurred as i got a bit cross-eyed looking at my forearms and the road ahead in an attempt to keep my head down and low. it seemed to work.
eyes on the extensions and road
the start of the course is a real up and down roller coaster, i chickened out and used the brakes. i didn’t want to do a rasmussen (in terms of technique, not in terms of drug-related geographical misinformation).
having said that, i did have an unscheduled clipless moment whilst warming up. i opted to use my super bling dura ace pedals with their carbon fibre stealth and light absorbing properties. they really grab the cleat with a resounding ‘thunk’ and don’t like to let go. i was turning slowly in the road and tried to put a foot down, they didn’t let go. i just about got out of it. luckily no-one saw so it never happened. or it didn’t make a noise. or something.
the second part of the course was super fast, a long and steady descent of around 6 or 7 miles. i maxed out at around 35mph here and really pushed the big gear. it was pretty good fun, although i was nervous about not overcooking it. i passed a few people, some of them were freewheeling. i have an opinion about this – if you’re going to freewheel in a time trial it can only be because you are descending a steep, gravelly, technical, nasty, wet, greasy and terrifying hill and need to simply control the bike to stay alive. any other freewheeling is really bad form.
i was dreading the lumpy ass drag to hell – as it shall from henceforth be known by all and sundry. in the end i stuck it in as big a gear as i could manage without my legs seizing up completely and bullied my way along this section. it was nowhere near as bad as i’d anticipated. once through this pitted canyon it was head down for the finish with a repeat of the rollercoaster bit. i didn’t touch the brakes this time and slammed it up the final climb in the big ring, squeaking across the line a little while later.
i managed a 52.34. a theme is developing here; these rides don’t feel that fast when i’m doing them, in fact, i feel like i’m going too slow and am always trying to force myself to push that bit harder. in reality, the course record for the u601 was a 52.01 from last year, which means i was within 34 seconds of it. i was thrilled to bits with this, but also knew that Rob Pears would go quicker and that this is a course that really suits him, it lacks the bigger climbs that level things out. he duly smashed the course record, coming in at a mid 51.
the numbers!
there were 8 Bristol South riders on the start sheet which was absolutely fantastic. A further 6 were in action at the Merryfield Circuit Race and 1 was mountain biking. The difference from last year’s events, with just me and Dan testing and Steve doing road races is startling.
Personally, it’s great to be going quicker, to be exceeding my aims and goals and to be making such vast improvements. before the start of the season i was worried that I wouldn’t or couldn’t be as quick as last year. Today’s time was a full five and half minutes quicker than last year, and 3 minutes quicker than my later time in the WTTA event on a shorter course. i am going to target a fast 25 in a couple of weeks. in the meantime, i have some other, non-cycling related aims, hopes and dreams that are coming to fruition. These are the most exciting of the lot.
Dropping the C-Bomb
The weatherman on Points West took time out of waxing lyrical about the conjunction of Jupiter and Venus to say that today was going to be a really lovely, sunny, bright and warm day once the cloud base lifted. With such delights in prospect i decided today was the day to unleash the C-Bomb. It’s actually a Cervelo R5, but in our house it’s acquired the nom de guerre of ‘The C-Bomb’. It weighs a bit under 7kg and is custom made for both stravabombs and smashing it up and down climbs all over the land. It is not custom-made for riding on the shitty, dirty, slurry-encrusted lanes of North Somerset, nor is it designed for ‘king of the club run’ type madness.
In keeping with such a sacrosanct and special occasion i adhered to certain rules: i wore my best cycling kit and made sure that the ‘colourway’ matched, including all trim and piping details. see the rules for more details. i also did not take a saddlebag, i carried the extras in my jersey pockets. No saddle bags on best bikes. i spoilt this aesthetic slightly by taking a levrier super musette so i could carry my work stuff – clean pants and socks, sandwich, flapjacks, bananas, oranges, apples, keys, phone and other assorted items. the bag is much lighter on the way home.
Lately i have come across Graham Douchebag on a couple of occasions – his training rides go the opposite way to mine. He’s gearing up for some Hardriders starting this weekend. The distance is marginally shorter than his target for last year, Paris-Brest-Paris. It was really foggy the other morning and looming out of the pea-souper was a pink shadow, gaining in substance and shape as the voluminous clouds swirled and parted. I thought it was a lady at first because of the pink softshell. i realised my mistake a a few seconds later when the unmistakeable profile of G appeared through the gloaming.
G crests the Gospel Pass on some absurdly long ride far into darkest Wales, and almost certainly back again.
I bumped into him on the downs today. we were both a bit out of breath, i’d been digging in on the flat and he’d just ridden up a hill. He took one look at the bike and then asked what on earth i was doing commuting on it. I said that i was training anyway, and pointed at my 20mph average speed to try and justify it. Besides, as i pointed out, I put a clincher wheelset on there yesterday which practically makes it a hack bike.
This weekend sees the 3rd hardrider of the season, the Severn RC promotion. I had a torrid time in this event last year, felt really sick and came 9th. I’m hoping to do a bit better this year, although it lacks long climbs and is full of nasty little bits and a massive drag up a cratered B road. Great fun.
