Right, if it won’t stop raining, then I’m just going to have to get wet (again). To that end, I’ve been getting wet this weekend, although maybe just getting wet isn’t quite descriptive enough! In fact, I think “and muddy” needs to be added to that for the full effect! “Wet and very muddy”, yes that’s far better.
I suppose I’m going to have to elaborate on “wet and muddy” though or this is going to be the shortest blog post ever. I’ve actually been running, or more accurately that should probably be “slip sliding around in the mud” because the conditions were what would be termed "Heavy" in horse racing circles, and as such there wasn’t actually that much running going on. Sunday was a new event for me in the form of the Sevenoaks Circular, a 30 mile route through what is undoubtedly some glorious North Kent countryside, hosted, fabulously, as ever, by our friends at the Kent LDWA. I’d been looking forward to this one ever since I’d signed up for it back in the depths of winter, and despite the gods of road works trying their hardest to stop me getting there by closing the M25 ,I was determined to have a good day out. Hearing about the planned M25 closure a couple of weeks ago I'd actually considered pulling out of this event. But a look at the map showed that it should still be possible to get there, even though it may take a while, and I’d warned “The Emma” that if the traffic was bad on the way down then I’d just stay Sunday night too and go direct to work on Monday morning, thus avoiding the road closures. As it happened the M25 closure had little effect on my journey (in fact it was probably better than it normally is) and I had a good journey in both directions. Having planned on being delayed I’d set off early Saturday afternoon, and thus found myself with a couple of hours to kill before bedtime Saturday night. A situation which was easily remedied by a wander round Sevenoaks and a quiet pint, whilst watching the world go by, before bed. A later than normal start on Sunday (09:00) meant for a leisurely start, and as I sat in the van having a brew, I actually thought that I might have got lucky, and the forecast rain hadn’t materialised. How wrong could I be though, because by the time I actually got to the start, the blue skies had moved on and a steady rain was falling from the skies. Checked in, rain jacket securely fastened, one last biscuit, shoes tightened, and route loaded onto my sat nav. Just before 09:00 I was ready to go. The rolling start and need to reach the prescribed checkpoints within their opening / closing times, meant I set off alone, the slower walkers having already departed, and the faster runners, still thinking about getting out of bed. Just me, the sound of rain falling all around me, the squelch of wet feet underfoot and the joy of being outside, I can live with that!
From the off it was incredibly muddy. A 2” deep layer of slippery mud coated most of the paths. Mud which had been churned up by multiple feet through the winter, and made worse by the never-ending rain over the past months. Mud which made running almost impossible, as the gloop filled the treads of my trail shoes and left a smooth, slick, surface, which was impossible to gain any traction from.
Slow progress wasn’t a problem through, the footpaths were deserted, the road crossings quiet, and the steadily falling rain, bought a peacefulness to the countryside, as I progressed slowly along. Church bells rang in the distance, calling the faithful to prayer as they have for a millennia before. Sheep, their fleeces wet, matted, and dirty, from the weeks of rain, gazed intently from the fields either side. Magpies called from the trees, Blackbirds hunted through the wet leaves underfoot in search of a tasty morsal, and squirrels scampered back to the safety of the trees as I passed. None seemed overly bothered by the falling rain though, so why should I?
By the time I reached the first checkpoint approaching the 9 mile mark, the rain had eased, leaving a steady drizzle in its place. I could have gone into the checkpoint, had a brew and a chat with the lovely volunteers manning their station, but would I have come back out to face the mud and rain again?
Probably, but why tempt fate. Besides, I was only 9 miles in, there’s no need to stop yet, so I had my number noted down to prove my passing and pushed on.
The next leg was a loop, reducing the need for additional checkpoints and adding miles to the route without additional support requirements. Not that that detracted from the beauty of the area and the outstanding views from the high points (not that you could see far in the drizzle and general murk, that still pervaded).
By late morning the drizzle had abated and by the time I got back to the checkpoint the day was slowly warming up. Jacket off, water refilled and a marmite sandwich from the large spread on offer, courtesy of the volunteers manning the checkpoint to enjoy as I pushed on, and I was soon on my way again.
Surprisingly the next few miles were really boggy. Picking up the North Downs way and following the high ground, I had thought that this section would be fairly dry. Those hopes were soon dashed as I started what turned out to be the first of a few miles sloshing through waterlogged fields. The water oozed between my toes, cold, muddy and wet. My soaked socks clung to my feet, and the water was pushed and pulled through the thin fabric of my running shoes with every step. The views from the top of those hills provided distractions from the discomfort of running with wet feet though, and whilst progress was slow as I sloshed through the endless puddles, I was making progress and the miles left to go, were slowly ticking down.
Leaving the high ground of the North Downs Way behind, the waterlogging actually improved, and a few miles along better drained trails and quiet country roads provided the opportunity to make up a bit of time.
Time that was rapidly lost again as I approached the next checkpoint and struggled with the routing. I wasn’t the only one though and within a few minutes there was a small group of us, discussing where we should be going. “The GPS says this way”. “Seems about right, from the route sheet”. “But why would we be going this way, the checkpoints over there"? A short diversion to get back on track, a slog up a really muddy path, and finally the checkpoint hove into view, along with the opportunity to grab a biscuit and a slice of fruit cake (purely for sustenance) and a few seconds admiring the expansive view from the checkpoint, before pushing on for the final few miles.
One last push to the finish then, and after the mornings rain the sun tried valiantly to make its presence felt, as morning turned towards afternoon. More miles along mud heavy footpaths, the sticky gloop pulling at tired leg muscles, as I slipped and slid around, arms flailing for balance, knees and ankles protesting at the endless twisting.
I was making progress though. One final long, steep, climb, and then back onto the familiar, muddy footpath that I had followed in the opposite direction hours earlier ,to take me back to the start, and the bitter, sweet, feeling that the conclusion of every brilliant day out brings.
Not a fast day out by any stretch of the imagination at 6:20 for 30 miles, but a time that I’m happy with considering the conditions of the day. And whilst the conditions underfoot had been pretty dire for most of the day, it had still been a brilliant day out. A day out that I’m raring to complete again when the weathers a bit more beneficial, and the going's a bit better, as I really don’t think that I saw this route in its best light.
In fact, if it was that good when the weather was against it, imagine how brilliant it will be when the sun’s shining, the woods are full of Bluebells and spring fills the air. This is definitely one to come back to again.
And just before I sign off for this week, we've got new neighbours at home, and they've evicted the wildlife that lived at the bottom of their garden.
I might have mentioned before about the family of Sparrows that live in our roof. They shouldn't be living in our roof, but I haven't got the heart to evict them, and in fact they seem to be doing quite well up there and have managed to expand their family over the last few years. Due to their rapid expansion, half of the family moved out from our roof and moved into the bush at the end of next door's garden last year, and continued to flourish in their new home. Flourish that is until the new neighbours moved in and proceeded to cut down their home. I'm not sure why they've cut it down, as it's now in an unsightly pile in exactly the same pace as it was when it was growing and providing a bit of colour, but dead and decaying instead of green, verdant and full of flowers in the summer. The Sparrows though are looking lost, having lost their home for no apparent reason, and to that end "The Emma" suggested that they might need a new home, and suggested that I might know where to find one.
0 Comments
I’ve tried this year I really have, but I’m finally, and somewhat disappointingly, going to have to admit defeat. I’m not giving up and I’m going to keep chipping away at it, because at some point in the future I will get back on track. But for the time being, I’m going to have to surrender to the inevitable, and admit that I just can’t keep on top of the weekly blog updates at the minute.
There’s about 3 years’ worth of weekly waffle within these pages, and I’ve had a great time relating all my tales on a weekly basis, but for some reason, this year, I just can’t seem to keep on top of it. I think the main problem over the past few months has been work related. Being the idiot that I am, I can’t just sit back and do as little as possible, as many people seem quite content to do. If I see a problem, and I’ve got a solution, I feel compelled to try and sort it out, no matter how much extra work that creates for myself. That often comes back to bite me on the backside through, and recently I’ve bitten off a big old challenge at work, which has massively bitten me back. I’m winning now though, and starting to make a real difference, but over the last few months my work life has been one long fight to get things put in place to try and help the people that I’m supposed to be helping, whilst half of the people I have to deal with have tried to stop me, or make my task as difficult as possible, in order to make their own lives easier. Like everything in life, that has a knock-on effect, and I suppose the biggest knock on from that, is that having spent all day up to my neck in e mails and spreadsheets, the last thing I’ve really wanted to do is sit down in front of another keyboard and start tapping away at my bolg. Which is a massive shame, because, sitting here putting my thoughts into words is massively therapeutic, and without doubt, helps to clear my mind, and work through the trials and tribulations that daily life throws my way. There’s no point in struggling to keep on top of something which at the end of the day is only a vanity project though, and at the end of the day, I never set out to create a blog with multiple pages and weekly updates. I set out on this journey to update ‘The Old Cheese’ and a few other friends and relatives on what was going on in my life. To share a few pictures without having to resort to Facebook or such like, and generally make note of what I had been up to over time. to that end the self-imposed weekly update has really become a bit of a millstone around my neck at the moment. So, for the time being, I’m not even going to try and keep on top of the weekly thing, I’m just going to dip in and out, as, and when I’ve got time. And instead of weekly updates, it’ll just be a bit more irregular. I still love writing, and there’s nothing more satisfying than looking back at the older posts and remembering what I was up to at that point in time. So, I’m not going to give up, far from it, this little Blog project has become an important part of my life over the past few years. I’m just going to take the pressure off, be a bit more realistic in what I can achieve and do with my limited time and add updates as and when I can. So, to that end, let’s have a quick catch up on what I’ve been up to over the past 3 weeks.
Well, for a start there was the Punchbowl Marathon. That’s always a good little day out and despite the heavy rain shower, this year didn’t disappoint. 30 miles through the glorious Surrey countryside is always a treat, and rain or shine the long slow climb up to the Devils Punchbowl at Hindhead is always worth the effort. Even this year when the top was shrouded in mist and drizzle!
Despite the rain shower the distance felt good, and as with the Winter Tanners I managed to pace my efforts well, maintaining a steady pace throughout and covering the 30 miles in 5:22 which is a time that I’m more than happy with. I can’t just leave that there without saying a big thanks to all the marshals, who as usual went out of their way to make the day brilliant. It may not have been wall to wall sunshine, but a smiling face at the checkpoints as they check your number through, a big slice of cake and a refill of your water bottles and a cheery ‘Good Luck’ as you depart for the next one, more than makes up for a bit of drizzle.
I’ve had a couple of weekends of Audaxing too, to break up the running a bit, one of which went exactly to plan, and the other, well, maybe the less said about that the better.
First, we had the Chiltern Grit 200Km Audax from Aylesbury. I’ve ridden this one a couple of times before and it’s normally a good day out. From Aylesbury it’s a fast run down to Reading and back on major B roads to allow for the winter weather, followed by an afternoon loop to the North of Aylesbury, and I’d been looking forward to this one for some time. At the start I was still well up for the day’s adventures, but as soon as I set off, I knew that it wasn’t to be. I don’t know why but I just couldn’t get my head in the game. Within the first 30 minutes the time was dragging, and the lumpy, potholed, road surface was getting on my nerves. When you’re feeling good and the legs are working like they should, you can block out the relentless battering from the broken chip seal tarmac, the cars screaming past inches from your elbow, and the endless thumps and jarring on your wrists as the front wheel descends into yet another pothole that you can’t avoid because there’s a car sat right beside or behind you. When you’re not feeling it, those same things that you can normally ignore, by immersing yourself in the beautiful views, the birdsong and the joy of being outside, quickly become all consuming, and there’s no escape from the endless monotony of peddling ever onwards towards your fate.
The first few hours of Chiltern Grit , as I made my way towards Reading were just like that. All-consuming self-pity and the endless desire to stop.
I pushed on towards Reading, through the morning mist and drizzle, but by the time I got there with 33 miles in my legs I wasn’t having much fun. That fun was further eroded by a route change from previous editions which took us right into the center of Reading, along a mixed-use footpath for no real reason, and required an proof of passage receipt. On my arrival at the advertised checkpoint there was no shops (apart from a coffee wagon and a supermarket with no bike parking) to get a receipt, and that as far as I was concerned was day over. I really couldn’t be bothered hunting round for somewhere to provide a stupid receipt, just to prove that I’d cycled into the middle of Reading for no real reason. The 33 miles back to Aylesbury would give me a 100Km day, and that would do, my heart wasn’t in it, I wasn’t having fun, and I couldn’t be bothered hunting around to try and find somewhere to get a receipt from as ‘proof of passage’. By the time I got back to Aylesbury again a couple of hours later, I felt a bit happier, and was actually enjoying myself a bit more, but my mind had been made up at Reading, so I called it a day at the halfway point. That’s an unusual decision for me. It’s unusual that I don’t finish something I started, but cycling is supposed to be fun, not a chore and I wasn’t having fun, so why put myself through the pain of continuing? And that’s always the risk of routes that pass back through the start / finish on the way to somewhere else too. It’s just to easy to give up!
You’ll all be please to know that I’ve made amends for my miserable Chiltern Grit failure by getting out and actually finishing what I started this weekend though.
Saturday saw me on the start line for a new ride in the form of The Winter Warmer. A slightly easier endeavor, in that it was only 100Km. But, being along new roads I was looking forward to this one, and getting up Saturday morning after a cozy night in the van, I felt good and more than up for the challenge. I’ve said it before, but it’s surprising the difference a week makes in your mind set, and with the sun shining, frost on the roadside verges and the promise of a good day out, I rode up to the start from my overnight hideaway with a spring in my step.
A later than normal start and a shorter route seems to attract a bigger crowd (I’ve no idea why) and the village hall at the start was thronged with people getting ready for the days adventures when I arrived. Still slightly early, there was just time to grab a brew and a bit of toast, before the obligatory pre ride “mind the potholes” brief and the off.
There’s not much to say about this one, apart from the fact it was a brilliant day out. The early morning sunshine didn’t last long, with the skies soon clouding over and by lunchtime some heavy drizzle falling, which put a bit of a dampener on things, but did little to hamper progress. Without doubt the best bit about Saturdays ride, and why it will remain firmly lodged in my memory wasn’t the scenery, the weather or the route, good as they all were, but the catering and welcome at the controls. The first stop atop Winterfold hill had what can only be described as the best spread of goodies ever to grace a remote woodland car park. It may have been a wet car park in the middle of nowhere (not quite nowhere, at the top of a bloody great hill is where it was), but no expense had been spared. Hot brews, cake, bananas, more cake, and yet more cake, was being used to weigh down the gazebo that it was all sheltered under, and I can tell you for a fact, that with that weight of cake holding it down, a hurricane wouldn’t have moved it! The finish control was outstanding too. A warm welcome, hot brew’s, bacon butties and yet more cake. Exactly what’s needed after a long morning in the saddle, and an outstanding effort all round from all involved in organising Saturdays ride. I may have got wet, it may have been a cold, dreary and drab winters day, but a ride like that and the effort made by everyone involved in putting on a superb day can’t help but put a smile on your face, lighten your mood and leave you hungry for more. Roll on the summer is all I can say, if I’m having this much fun in the middle of winter, just imagine what’s to come as the weather gets better, the evenings get lighter, and the days get longer!
And finally, before I go, lets have a quick look at project MX5 and the allotment. There’s not actually much to report on the allotment, although I did spend a full day up there last weekend removing all of the glass from the greenhouse and scrubbing it clean. It’s amazing how dirty it gets, and it’s not had a really good clean for a few years, so it was well overdue.
It’s not the best of jobs to be doing on a cold winter’s day. But it’s the only time to do it when it’s not full of plants, and it’s a good job out of the way ready for a start to the sowing and growing season, which is fast approaching. It’s surprising how much difference a good clean makes to the amount of light coming in too. While were talking about things growing, I notice that the daffodils are in full bloom when I’m out and about (and in the garden), as are the first of the polyanthus, and the roses have got plenty of new growth showing too. There’s no doubt about it, springs just around the corner and hopefully I’ll get the time to sow the first seeds in the shiny and clean greenhouse on the allotment next weekend.
There’s been some progress on the MX5 over the past few weeks too.
Originally, I’d bought this knowing that it needed a load of work doing to it, the plan being to scrap most of it and use the running gear as the basis for a Kit car. Once I started driving it, I got a sort of soft spot for it though, and whilst the suspension and underside is in a sorry state, I kind of think that it’s worth saving as opposed to stripping for parts. The bodywork is in surprisingly good condition for its age, and it’s clearly had some love and money spent on it over the years. So maybe it deserves a reprieve and a bit of a restoration, and the chance to bring a few more smiles to someone’s face. To that end it’s now in the garage on axle stands with most of the front end removed and the R/H suspension stripped out whilst I have a good look at the work that’s going to be involved in saving it and make a final decision on what to do with it. My head says Kit car, but my heart says restore it, and heart normally wins! Whatever the final outcomes going to be, it’s going to be here for the long term in one way or another. But disappearing out to the garage for an hour after work to chip rust of a rusty car is a great way to unwind and quite therapeutic. Plus, it gives me a challenge to get my head into and something to think about on all those long, wet, runs and cycle rides, whilst I try to figure out my next step or problem. And as we all know, if there’s one thing, I love it’s a challenge.
It’s a BOGOF this week folks. That’s a Buy One Get One Free for the uninitiated, and it’s a BOGOF if more ways than one. Firstly we’ve got two weekends of excitement (or not as the case may be) to catch up on, but I’ve also been playing the same game both weekends, so we've got two remarkably similar tales to talk about.
As is often the case at this time of year, we’re in a bit of a lull on the running and Audaxing front. For some reason no one wants to go out to play in January, so it’s a case of making your own fun, and that’s just what I’ve been doing. The big advantage of no one else wanting to go out to play, is that you can get some really cheap Travelodge rooms in January. Fridays are normally cheaper than the other days too (I guess all the workers have gone home and the weekend trippers only want Saturdays) and Fridays in January are often the cheapest of the lot. With not much else going on, that's exactly what I’ve been up to the last 2 weekends. For the grand sum of £65 I’ve had 2 overnight adventures, and whilst a night in the Hammock is always great fun. In the middle of winter, when you don’t know what the weathers going to be doing, a warm and dry Travelodge room is a bit of a winner. Where have I been then? Well, last weekend the services on the A303 above Salisbury, provided the destination, whilst this weekend, the Services at Fontwell on the A27 beckoned.
Neither are particularly attractive destinations, but it’s not about the destination, it’s the ride there and back that matters. It’s dark by the time I get there, and it’s dark when I leave again in the morning at this time of year, so as long as it’s warm and dry, then that’s all I’m bothered about.
Handily, both locations are about 60 miles from work and home too (although Fontwell needs a bit of a diversion to bring the miles up), which makes it a good afternoon’s riding after work on Friday (Friday being POETS day (P**s Off Early Tomorrow's Saturday)), and a pleasant morning ride back on Saturday morning. Meaning I can still be back home in time for a late lunch on Saturday and a bit of pottering around in the afternoon with 100+ miles in the bag. What’s not to like about that then? Well, the only bit not to like as far as I’m concerned was the mean little head wind that blew in my face all the way to Salisbury last weekend, making for a tiring journey. That extra effort was more than made up for by the beautiful sunrise on Saturday morning, and the glorious, spring-like weather, for my journey down to Fontwell this weekend though. That’s enough waffle about that though, suffice to say, the winter Travelodge game is a great way to get away for an overnight in the middle of winter and a great way to see a bit more of our glorious countryside. It’s not the best accommodation, but it’s better than sleeping in a muddy puddle, and if you can find a cheap room, it’s almost rude not to take advantage!
What else have I been up to in the last couple of weekends then?
Well, I know what I haven't done, and that's sit down and go through the seeds that are left over from last year and get my seed order in for this year. It’s only a couple more weeks until the first things will need to get sown so I’d best get on with that little job. "The Emma's" on evenings this week so that'll be a good little job for one evening when I'm "home alone". While we’re talking about the allotment and things that I still haven't done, I really want to take the glass out of the greenhouse roof and clean all the moss and general murk off before the growing season starts and the greenhouse fills up. Typically, on the days I’ve been free and could crack on with it, it’s either been raining or blowing a gale, neither of which are particularly conducive to messing around with big sheets of fragile glass. There's still a few weeks yet before the sowing starts so hopefully the weather will play ball and I'll be able to get that little job ticked off. I really must get on with making some new staging for the greenhouse in the next few weeks too. After 20 odd years of faithful service, the legs on the staging I made when I got my first greenhouse all those years ago finally gave up the ghost when I moved it out of the greenhouse to make way for the Tomatoes at the start of summer last year. I’ve been meaning to get on with it ever since, but like everything in life, other jobs take precedent. I’m almost backed into a corner now though, so I suppose I’m going to have no choice but get on with it in the next few weeks if we’re going to have any veg for the plot come the spring! The reason I haven’t got around to all the things that I should be doing is that I’ve made a start on chipping away at the next big project. If you remember back a few months I picked up a cheap and not very good looking MX5. The original plan being to strip it for parts and use the bits as the basis for a kit car. Having driven it around for a few weeks, I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for it though and I’m starting to feel sorry for it. As such I’m in two minds whether to strip it for bits, or restore it back to its original 1998 glory. Whatever I decide, there’s plenty of things that I can be getting on with that will be of benefit whichever way the coin falls, and to that end I’ve been hiding in the garage pottering around doing bits on that. And I must say it’s quite therapeutic. Taking something that’s been unloved, putting a bit of elbow grease and effort into it, and starting to turn it around, is quite satisfying. Whatever I end up doing with it, this little project is going to be with us for a while. I’m guessing that there’s at least 2 years of tinkering away between other jobs to keep me occupied, so it’s certainly going to be around as a project for a while!
Oh, and while I was busy running and pottering around in the garage on Sunday "The Emma" was busy too! Bread and Butter Pudding, Pain Au Chocolate and Ginger Biscuits - My favourites!
You’ll all be pleased to know that there’s not a great deal to tell you about this week, so this will be a short and sweet one. If I’m honest I’ve had one of those weeks where you're rushing around like a mad thing and achieving very little, which is never good for the old morale. But, I guess that I must have achieved something, no matter how inconsequential in the big scheme of things. I did run home, and then back to work the next morning, one day in the week, which is another step in the right direction and another increase in the miles I’m managing to sustain. It’s only 10 miles each way, but running home one evening and then getting up early to get back to work again, gives me 20 miles in a 14 hour window, so there’s not much recovery time there. And getting up at 05:00 to run to work in the rain can be pretty hard going sometimes. That’s all part of the fun though, and if it was easy everyone would be doing it, wouldn’t they! The best bit of news from the weekend is that I’ve finally got “The Boy’s” car back together and can confirm that it’s fixed, which is a massive result as far as I’m concerned. There was no way that repairing it would have been economical if he was paying someone to do it for him. But he’s back on the road again, and he’s got a well maintained little car there that will easily see him through another couple of years (I hope). If I’m honest, I probably got as much (if not more) out of fixing it than he will get out of it being fixed. But from my perspective it was a brilliant learning experience, and it’s been another one of those jobs where anyone you talk to says “You can’t do that” or “You’ll never be able to fix that”. But I have, and I’ve got a tremendous sense of achievement out of doing so. It wasn’t an easy job, and there were a few moments where I had to use all my ingenuity and cunning to overcome the problems that working on the floor brings. But the job’s done now, and it’s running as sweetly as a Swiss watch (not that I know anything about Swiss watches, so I don’t know if they run sweetly or not). Having got things back together on Friday afternoon, I took the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone and arranged to meet “The Boy” in Swindon Saturday afternoon. Meeting him half way not only gave me the chance to do a few miles in the newly fixed “Old Man Mobile” before I handed it back. But it gave us the chance to catch up over lunch too. And I must confess that it made a nice change for me to actually sit down for lunch, as well as it being really nice to catch up with “The Boy” with no other distractions for a couple of hours. There’s not much else to report from the weekend other than that. Sunday morning I dragged myself out of bed early for a bit of off road running fun. Managing to get fully muddy in the process, which was nice, and also managing to get ten miles in before it started raining, which is always a plus. And the afternoon was spent washing a couple of weeks worth of road dirt and detritus off my bikes, and generally catching up on a few odd jobs and a bit of bike maintenance (fixed a puncture twice and then gave up and put a new inner tube in (I think the inner tube was too damp for the patches to actually stick)) and sorted out a few other minor jobs. And that was that, another week done. I suppose that eventually I’m going to have to start thinking about Christmas, but for now, I’m sure I can have another few days pretending that it’s never going to get here and I’ll worry about that later! A rare treat this week folks. I’ve been running. And it’s been a long, long, time, since I’ve done any of that. In fact it’s been 8 Months since I last did any competitive running, and there hasn’t been much running of any kind in the interim either. Before we get to the interesting stuff though. Saturday was spent freezing my bits off, putting the gearbox back in “The Boys” car. You’ll no doubt be pleased to know that I’ve replaced the knackered Input shaft bearing which I’m hoping was the source of all the noise, and managed to get all the gears back into the case. Helpfully, “The Emma” didn’t complain when I brought the gearbox into the house on Thursday in the hope that it would warm up enough to allow me to get some sealant onto the mating faces. And she still wasn't complaining when it reappeared Friday night, in the hope that the sealant might actually start to cure before I put it back in the car. It says on the packet to apply it in temperatures above 10 degrees, but nothing about what to do when it’s -10, so into the hall it came to warm up. And “The Boy” needs to be thankful, as do I, that I’ve got such an easy going Wife. (Although if I’m honest I think she just likes the easy life, and it’s easier to either ignore my antics, or just say “Yes Paul” than it is to try to stop some of my silly ideas. It’s back in the car now though, so that's a positive. Although I still don't know if it’s fixed because A) The sealant still hasn’t gone off and I don’t want to fill it with oil until it has. And B) Whoever's been in there before me has managed to strip all of the threads out of one of the mounting bolt holes, so now I’m waiting for a thread repair kit to arrive before I can finish putting it back together. It’s progress though and a step in the right direction, so I’m happy about that. And on an even more positive note the bearing that I’ve replaced was definitely knackered, and it’s always reassuring when you find that the item you suspected to be unserviceable is, and you’ve actually got something to point at and say “that’s the problem”. There’s nothing worse than taking something apart and either finding nothing, or finding that the bit you suspected to be the problem is actually OK. Anyway, that’s enough about that for the time being, let's get back to the main event. The Mapledurham Half Marathon. Yes, it’s only a half and a big step down from where I was this time last year, but I was really looking forward to this one having not run for such a long time and it’s another step in the right direction! I’ve run a lot of this course before, but not for a few years, and the last time I did run it, it was only 10 miles. The Half has been added at some point over the last couple of years and although much of the route is the same as the ten mile, some of it was going to be new to me. After Saturday's freezing temperatures, I’d almost been hoping for more of the same on Sunday. It wasn’t to be though, and by the time I got to the start the temperature was into positive numbers (although still chilly) and by the time I’d collected my number and started getting ready it had started raining. A bit of freezing rain never did anyone any harm though (probably) and it was easy to forget the cold, wet, raindrops, landing on my head, amongst the excitement of being back at the start line for the first time in many months. There’s something special about standing in a wet field waiting for someone to shout “Go”. There’s always an apprehensive excitement in the air, and an all prevailing tension. Final stretches, endless checks of watches. The odd bit of small talk, “have you done this one before?”. But deep down everyone’s thinking the same thing, “How am I feeling”? “How’s this going to go today”? “Are my legs feeling good”? “What about that little niggle”? “Come on let’s go”! The 10K runners set off first on Sunday for an extra lap of the field to ensure the distance was actually 10K, and passed back through the start to much applause, whilst we waited to be released. And as they disappeared into the distance, so we in turn moved up to the start line. “Hang back me, this one always goes out fast and there’s some good runners here”. “There’s no point killing myself in the first mile, it's been a long time, but remember what you learned from all those previous races”. “Start slow to finish fast”! As predicted, once we got going, the front runners were away like scalded cats. The first couple of miles are along a concrete farm track, which makes for some fast running, but I quickly settled into a pace which I felt comfortable with and felt I could sustain for the duration, whilst the front runners disappeared into the distance.
With the pace settled, the end of the concrete quickly arrived and we peeled off into the woods for the first climb of the day up a muddy footpath. Falling in behind the man in front, as we neared the top he offered to let me pass. An offer I kindly declined, knowing that the pace we were doing was fast enough and if I overtook I’d have to pick up my pace further, rather than hold him up in the process. A rousing performance from one of the lovely marshals manning a sharp turn, directed us across a muddy field and into the woods for the first time, where dead leaves lay thick in the wet mud and heavy drops of rain dripped from the trees as we passed. Through the 5 mile mark and I was feeling good, I was working hard but not too hard, and my knee, whilst tender, was holding up Ok. Coming up to the 6 mile mark I gained a couple of places as we slipped and slid along a muddy track. The ground underfoot already churned up by the 10K runners, who had taken a shorter route to this point and arrived ahead of us. Another uphill section, saw another couple of places gained. My start slow, finish strong tactic starting to pay off. And as we approached the 9 mile point, having again rejoined the route of the 10 Km runners, the first of the back markers from that race hove into view. I fully appreciate how demoralising it must be to be passed by someone who set off ten minutes after you and has done 10 miles to your 10Km. But, as the one doing the passing, it’s a massive morale boost, and with almost 10 miles in my legs, any morale boost was more than welcome. Just shy of the ten mile mark the 10Km / 10 mile and half marathon routes split again, and as I followed the route for the extra 3 miles to make up the half marathon, most of those in front peeled off, their day done, leaving just a few visible in front of me. Repeating the slippery muddy trail from earlier I picked off another runner and on the next climb the only other person I could see in front of me fell behind. The pacing strategy was certainly paying off, and as I started the descent back towards the start I was able to pick my pace up slightly. More backmarkers, this time from the ten mile and ½ marathon groups, gave me plenty of people to chase after during the last mile and a half, and I put in my fastest mile of the day racing towards the line. Heart beating, breath ragged, legs pushing long strides, I crossed the line in 1:47, a time which was good enough for 25th place from the 97 starters, and more importantly, a time I’m more than happy with considering this year's lack of miles and injuries. Yes I could undoubtedly have gone faster, but today wasn’t about times, it was about seeing how my legs felt over the distance and having fun. And by god did I have fun. I didn’t realise quite how much I’d missed running until I started getting ready for Sunday. Collecting up the bits that havent been used for all those long months where injuries have stopped me running. Safety pins to attach my number, trail shoes from the van, gloves from the drawers upstairs, water bottle from the cupboard. All little things that were so familiar and then weren't. The drive up to the start, the excitement and apprehension waiting for the off, and the thrill of the run itself. Legs working hard, breath ragged on the climbs, pushing hard to catch the person in front, working even harder as you hear someone catching from behind, and the joy of being outside, propelling yourself through the damp winter countryside. Muddy paths, stiles to climb, puddles to run through, slip sliding from one side of the path to the other. Open countryside, wooded climbs, fast descents and boggy paths. Oh yes, I’ve really missed running! Right, a joke’s a joke, and I can take a bit of humour as well as the next man, but I’ve had enough now! Since the middle of September, I’ve been on 7 Audax’s (The End Of The Lines and Wye Gravel, The Ticking Tortoise, The Mid Sussex Hiller, The End Of Summertime and this weekend The Upper Thames and with the exception of The Ticking Tortoise, where it was only drizzling, it’s absolutely thrown it down with rain for all of them! And for the one before that at the start of September (The Morris Major) it was so hot that only a few of us actually started, for fear of heatstroke! I mean, seriously, how can it only rain at the weekend? Looking back through my diary at work, I’ve gotten properly wet commuting to work 13 times so far this year, and on the weekends, it’s 11 times. Now, considering that I commute to and from work every weekday, but don’t cycle every weekend, and there’s 5 days in the week and only 2 at the weekend, that must mean it rains a lot more at the weekends than it does during the week! And how can that possibly be? I’m guessing from my little rant above that you might have gathered that I got a bit wet this weekend again! What you might not have guessed is that for only the second time in my Audaxing career, and the second time in as many weeks, I DNF’d (Did Not Finish) again on Saturday, and I’m bloody annoyed with myself about it! Saturday was the Upper Thames 200KM Audax, which is a cheeky little jaunt around the edge of the Chilterns and the Cotswolds. Now I’ve done this ride a few times over the years, and I can’t think of a single occasion where it didn’t rain at some point in the day, but that’s never stopped me before, and it’s always a good day out. This year though the weather in the last couple of weeks has been pretty dire and the forecast for Saturday during the preceding days had been for more of the same, so rain wasn’t unexpected. Unsurprisingly then, Saturday morning I woke to the sound of rain falling steadily on the van roof, each and every drop of which added to the puddles already on the roads and the rivers cascading off the fields, which is never a good sign when you've got a 200KM day in front of you. By the time I’d had breakfast and made my way to the start it was still raining, and the skies showed no signs of clearing any time soon. The few unhappy looking faces at the start and the table full of uncollected Brevet cards seemed to echo the grey skies outside, and if I’m honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such despondent looking faces and general apathy to start a ride as I saw on Saturday morning. As we stood in the rain waiting for the 07:30 start time, it was clear that this was not going to be a pleasant morning. Eventually though 07:30 came and we slowly departed, heads down, shoulders hunched, each probably wondering, as I was, what the hell we were doing. Rivers ran in the gutters, puddles the size of small oceans hid potholes the size of open cast mines, sharp shards of flint mixed with mud and general debris coated the roads, each laying patiently in wait whilst valiantly trying to find a way in to puncture a tyre, and still the rain fell from the sky like a shower in full flow. Within minutes of our departure the rain had penetrated my gloves and filled my boots with cold, dirty, water, and the cold, absent in past weeks, had started to penetrate my defences. Battling up the first of the days climbs against the river which was flowing strongly down the hill restored a bit of warmth, but I was certainly already colder than I had been for many months, which is never a good sign when you're only a few miles into a long day. Pushing on, trying to stay warm, as I approached the first of the days checkpoints the rain eased, and I’m even tempted to say it may have stopped for a few minutes. Any relief was short lived though, as minutes later I was wheel hub deep in a small lake, the filthy water filling my boots again as I fought my way through the flood water, whilst trying valiantly not to fall off in the knee-deep ocean! By the time I reached Henley I was really starting to feel the cold, and spotting a small supermarket I stopped in search of washing up gloves to add under my cycling gloves in a last-ditch attempt to warm up my hands. Pulling on washing up gloves which are at least two sizes too small (that's all they had) onto soaking wet, freezing cold hands, is no mean feat, I can tell you. But having managed to get them on, at least my hands were sort of dry at last, and as I set off again it was with renewed hope that I might make it through the day. Minutes later, those hopes were cruelly dashed as the rain returned with a vengeance as I made my way slowly up the long slow climb past Stonor Park to regain the high ground of the Chilterns. This time however, the extra energy expenditure of the climb failed to work its magic, and the cold continued to seep slowly and inexorably into my core. Approaching the top of the climb a handily placed shelter hove into view and I pulled up in another vain attempt to get warmed up again. Knowing the weather was going to be against me, I’d packed a spare pair of dry socks and an extra top, and I took the time to get out of my wet socks and into some dry ones, adding a couple of plastic bags that I'd acquired at my earlier stop, before putting my sodden boots back on in the hope that they may keep the worst of the water off my new dry socks, and donned my extra (emergency layer). As we all know, what goes up, must come down, and shortly after the climb came the long, fast descent into Wallingford. Coming down the steep road the rain fell in sheets, stinging my face and obscuring my view as I hung onto the brakes, trying desperately to control my speed on the steep descent, whilst at the same time get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible. This just wasn’t fun! Coming back out of Wallingford, as if a sign from God, I noticed a small road sign pointing in the opposite direction, stating that it was only 4 miles back to the start. Initially I rode past, and then I slowed, my mind trying to convince my heart that continuing wasn’t a great idea. A few meters further and I’d rolled to a stop. Standing in a muddy field gate, with the rain pouring down, I spent a few minutes contemplating my fate. I was wet, I was cold, there was no chance of drying out and warming up unless the rain stopped, which didn’t look likely, and even if it did, the wind was picking up. Was this really fun? But at the same time, two DNF’s in as many weeks. I’m supposed to be a big tough endurance cyclist, not a scared of the rain, stay at home weakling! As I stood there with the rain dripping down my collar, the cold biting into my wet fingers and toes, and my bike gently rusting beside me, it wasn’t a hard choice to make. 4 miles back to the warmth of the van, or another 90 in the rain. What would you have done, in that situation? I’m still bloody annoyed with myself though. A couple of hours later, the rain had stopped, and the sun made a brief appearance. There’s no doubt about the fact that if I’d just pushed on for another hour or so, I’d have got round, and probably have had a great day with it. The fact is though I made some silly mistakes early on, mistakes that I shouldn't have made. I knew the weather was going to be bad, so why did I leave the washing up gloves which fit well and keep my hands warm and dry under my cycling gloves at home? If I'd started with those on, as I normally would on a wet winter ride, my fingers would never have got wet, or cold. Likewise, I realized Friday night that I didn’t have any plastic bags with me to put between my boots and socks, a neat little trick which is about the only thing I’ve ever found that comes even close to keeping my feet dry(ish). Why didn’t I just go out and get some instead of thinking ‘It’s not that cold, it’ll be alright’. And why the bloody hell didn’t I start in waterproof trousers! There are 3 little things there, which had I acted on them and dressed accordingly, would undoubtedly have meant I’d have finished Saturday's ride, warm, dry, and comfortable. But because I’m an idiot, I ignored all my previous learning, and thought ‘I’ll be fine, it’s only a bit of rain’. Idiot!!!!! Typically, Sunday was a far nicer day with only a couple of light showers in the afternoon, not that that was a lot of help, because there was no cycling planned. We did have other plans though, so there was no lazing in bed, and I was up bright and early with “The Emma” in tow.
Having “The Emma” in tow is unusual in itself, but I needed her assistance, so she was going to have to get up early too. In fact, we were on the road before 08:00 on a beautiful Autumn morning, heading for the South coast. I can hear you all thinking “Ahhh, a romantic day out at the seaside, how nice” but you’d be wrong. Yes, we were having a day out, but we were actually off to look at another car, not sit on the promenade eating jellied Eels and Whelks or build sandcastles. You’ll note that I said “another” there and not “a” because if I’m honest the car situation is getting a bit out of hand now, and this one brings the total to 7 between us. The ironic thing being that I do far more miles a year cycling than I ever do driving. In fact, I hate driving. But “The Emma's” got to have her hobbies too, and I’ve got plans for this one that don’t actually involve driving it for the foreseeable future. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we had a pleasant drive down, spent a couple of hours looking at my latest purchase, went and had some breakfast, and “The Emma” drove the latest acquisition home (see I told you I needed her help). I did offer to drive it home myself and she could drive the van back, but she muttered something about rather having needles poked in her eyes, grabbed the keys out of my hand and was gone! So, in addition to the rest of the fleet (1 camper van, a 206 GTI, a Fiesta ST, 2 Subaru Impreza’s, and a Subaru Brat) we’ve now got a 25-year-old MX5 that just about scraped through its last MOT and is about as likely to pass the next one as I am to fly to the moon under my own power. But that’s not a problem, because my intentions are to drive it until the current MOT expires (or preferably until I’ve finished a couple of other little projects) and then it’s going to be used as the donor car for a kit car project. See, I told you a few months ago I had plans for THIS LITTLE SPACE. It’s going to be a short and sweet one this week, mainly because as I sit here on Sunday afternoon, I can’t actually think of anything to write about. Sometimes the words seem to flow onto the page like a leaking pipe soaking into your carpet, and other times it’s like getting blood out of “The Emma” (nigh on impossible apparently). I was off work last week (just to fit in with “The Emma’s” leave) so you would think that I would have loads to tell you about, and in fact I was incredibly busy, it’s just that none of it’s really newsworthy or particularly interesting. And for some strange reason, I don’t even seem to have many pictures from my endeavours to share! Most of what I have been up to, has been catching up on odd jobs and finishing off other things that should have been finished ages ago, in an attempt to clear a bit of the backlog before I start anything else. For instance, I’ve finally got round to fitting the carpet into the airing cupboards, and refitted the trims around the front door, both jobs that have been outstanding since “The Carpet Caper” back in April. I’ve also tidied out the storage garage and fitted shelving down one side so that I can actually get in there now, and at the same time thrown away loads of junk that I’d been saving for some unknown reason, neither of which jobs are particularly exciting. Whilst we're talking about unexciting jobs, the workshop window has been letting in moisture for a couple of years, where the frame wasn't sealed to the wall properly. So I spent half a day digging out all the old, perished, sealant, repointing some of the brickwork and resealing it properly, which will hopefully stop the damp which is creeping down the wall. Although only time will tell if that’s been successful. I’ve had a couple of mornings on the Allotment and in the gardens at home too, tidying up ready for the winter. The Tomatoes and Cucumbers have finally come to an end in the greenhouse, so they've been cut down and added to the compost heap, and the Courgettes have also met the same fate. The Squashes (Butternut and Autumn Crown?) have been harvested and are currently in the cold frame hardening off before I bring them home for storage (hopefully before the first frosts) and I’ve had a good general tidy up too. Oh, and the Chilli plants are fully laden with fruit still, some of which has ripened up already. Hopefully, if the weather stays mild it might still be warm enough for some more to ripen up before the frost gets them too. The other job that’s been ongoing all week has involved making some new end panels for the kitchen to replace the ones I showed the other week which have delaminated. Now this is the sort of little project that I normally get loads of photos for as it’s not too involved and easy to document. For some reason though this time there’s none, so you’ll just have to take my word for it on that one, and if they turn out OK then I’ll stick some pictures up when I come to fit them. (They best had, because getting the paint matched to the other units cost a large fortune) And when you look at it like that, it doesn’t sound like I’ve done much with my week off, but I haven’t stopped. I’ve been struggling to keep my eyes open much after 9 O’clock every evening, and I’m almost tempted to say that I’ll be glad to go back to work for a rest, although that’s so far from the truth it’s unbelievable!
The good news from a blog perspective though, is I’ve got cycling fun lined up for the next 4 or 5 weekends, so I should be back to having something to talk about again, and weather permitting a few more pictures to share. But before I go, and while I’m talking about bikes. I’ve come to the conclusion that this cycling lark is blooming expensive, and I’m pretty much convinced that commuting to work by bike (or at least across the distance that I do) isn’t any cheaper than driving to work. In fact, I’d wager that it costs more in the long run, especially as I still need to run a car for other stuff (I can’t do the shopping on my bike because there’s nowhere safe to park it (thanks supermarkets and thieving scumbags) and I can’t go to the rubbish tip on my bike, because a sofa won’t fit and they don’t like my van, and I can’t, well you get the idea). When you take in to account the wear and tear on my bike from riding it in all weathers, and the need for extra clothes, and the wear and tear on them, it soon adds up. For instance this month my body warmer finally gave up the ghost (the back ripped as I took it off) and I had to replace a jacket that wasn’t going to see me through another winter (I knew that was knackered when I stopped using it in the spring, so that wasn't unexpected). However, the cost of those 2 small purchases alone would have filled my car up at least twice at the current cost of petrol, so that's probably 3 months worth of commuting to work if I went by car. And that's before we even start thinking about the cost of winter boots, summer shoes, long and short cycling bottoms, waterproof jackets, gloves, helmets, decent lights and the other multitude of things that are required to cycle any sort of distance all year round, none of which would be required if I made the trip by car! What actually got me thinking about the cost of my daily cycle commute wasn't my torn body warmer though, it was the bottom bracket on my commuting bike. When I was giving it a quick clean the other day I noticed that the top derailleur pulley was seized. Now that’s not an unusual occurrence, they’re cheap bearings and they’re exposed to all the grit, grime and rain that gets thrown around by the wheels and chain. Sometimes, I can free them off by prizing the bearing grease seals off, cleaning the bearings out and re-greasing them, which usually gets a few more miles out of them. And if that doesn't work, it’s just about possible to replace the bearings if you're careful, but that only works once as the originals are moulded in as part of the manufacturing process, so it does a bit of damage swapping them (they're clearly not designed to be replaced). Anyway, I digress, because whilst I was fixing the derailleur pulley I noticed that the Bottom Bracket bearings were knackered too. Luckily I had a spare one, so swapping it over wasn’t a big job, but what is annoying was the fact that I was sure that I only replaced that a few months ago. In fact I even remembered doing it one evening in the winter! Which was what set me off on the rant about cycling to work being expensive in the first place. Now, a while ago, because I seemed to be forever replacing bike parts, I started keeping track of what got replaced on which bike and when, and its made for some quite interesting discoveries. So once I’d got cleaned up I had a look, and guess what I discovered? It wasn’t this spring that I replaced that bottom bracket, it was actually February 2022 on that bike, and since then it’s done 5856 miles. That’s 5856 miles in all weathers, which is probably more than most bikes do in their lifetime, and whilst I throw a bit of oil on it on a regular basis, it’s a workhorse not a racehorse, and gets treated as such. So Mr Shimano, I guess I owe you an apology for ranting about your rubbish bearings, it would appear that they’re actually quite good (although if you fitted grease shields to both sides of the bottom bracket bearing then they’d probably last even longer)! But my original point still stands. It's blinking expensive this cycling lark, I mean, how can it possibly be £100 for a jacket with no arms, it's less than that for one with arms!
Unusually, I’m going to start with a bit of a moan this week, or maybe more accurately a bit of a word of warning. Back in the summer of 2018, we replaced our kitchen, the units were a bit tired, there was a lack of power sockets and all the normal gripes that relate to a kitchen that had been fitted on the cheap before we bought the house.
The actual kitchen came from the company that advertises itself as the leading supplier of kitchens in the UK, and if I’m honest it was a disaster from start to finish. Having refused to accept my measurements, the specialist surveyor clearly couldn’t measure either, as when the units turned up, they didn’t fit in the space because the measurements had been annotated onto their drawing by their surveyor incorrectly. I’d even questioned this during one of the design meetings and said to the designer that the proposed plan wouldn’t fit, but had been reassured that their measurements were spot on and it would fit. I can’t remember now why I didn’t double check, or pursue it at the time, but I clearly didn’t as I expected the expert to be correct. How wrong could I be! Before we’d even got that far though I’d totally lost faith in them, as they couldn’t supply what they had promised during the design phase, a number of units had arrived damaged, and there were a number of manufacturing defects in the units that did arrive undamaged. Anyway, to cut a long story short, after loads of messing around, they did replace all the damaged and incorrect parts, and did give us a considerable discount on the cost, due to all the messing around and failings on their part. Cutting forward to the start of this year, I noticed that a number of the cupboard doors were starting to delaminate in the centre of the panels. Now, I’d already been regluing the very edges of a number of doors where the laminate had started to lift on the edges, but this was another level of rubbish. So I complained to the manufacturer, and fair play to them, they came back and said that they would either replace all the doors and panels with new items (to be fitted at our cost) or refund a significant amount of what we had paid in the first place. After a bit of discussion, we came to the conclusion that we couldn’t be doing with ripping it all to bits again, and if one set of doors had already failed, the chances of another set being any good was slim to none, so we took the money, and thought that we’d just live with it for the time being, with the long-term plan being to replace the doors etc with a handmade set that I’d make once I had a bit more time (Like that’s ever going to happen). Anyway, if that’s not enough of a warning to be careful when companies are telling you how brilliant their products are. Last week I noticed that another entire end panel had fully delaminated, with the laminate now flapping in the breeze. Now if this panel was against the cooker and getting hot etc, I might be able to accept this. But the panel in question is sandwiched in against the washing machine so never sees the light of day, and the laminate has just fallen off! Brilliant! I seem to think that the list price on these panels was over £100 each, and the laminate has just fallen off in 5 years! Granted, I’ve already had all the money refunded for the substandard product, but I’m pretty sure that it’s not supposed to happen like that. And at the end of the day, I’d rather have the product that I paid good money for last the expected life of the kitchen, than be looking at ripping the entire lot out again 5 years after fitting it. Buyer beware is all I can say about that! Oh, and while I’m on a rant, the washing machines only 6 years old and the bearings on the drum are on their way out. You can’t change the bearings though, because it’s a moulded one-piece drum, and a new drum is £200. So, for the sake of a £5 bearing, the washing machine is going to be getting scrapped in the very near future too. How in the name of all that’s holy is that acceptable!
Apart from trying to reattach the laminate to parts of my kitchen, the main highlight of this weekend was the Morris Major 200Km, or more accurately 215Km, or 220Km if you add in my bit of backtracking, Audax.
I’ve done this one a couple of times before and the things that stick in my mind from the previous attempts are that it’s blinking hard, and rather hilly at times. But just in case I’d forgotten how hard it is, I thought that I’d better have another go this year. Which is how I found myself gathered with a somewhat reduced number of like minded lunatics at early O’clock, on what showed the early promise of being a real scorcher of a day. Chatting with the organiser at the start he reported that the low numbers milling around waiting for the off were as a result of a number of nonstarters, mainly due the forecast temperatures for the day. And judging from the previous days temperature, and indeed the temperature at 07:00, I was starting to suspect that they may have made a wise decision.
Heading North in the cool of the early morning, the sun, still low in the sky, glints through the trees and casts long shadows on the road, whilst a Kite or buzzard circles overhead calling to its mates. Fields of freshly harvested stubble line the roadsides, and the trees, still green and verdant for the time of year after the summers endless rain stand proud against the clear blue sky, and all appears to be good with the world.
Considering the workload which I know awaits, and the heat, which was slowly building even at this early hour, I make a conscious decision to keep my pace and effort levels low, and it wasn’t long before I was being passed by a number of riders. It’s surprisingly difficult to hold back when riders which you could easily keep pace with are coming past, but I had a feeling that this was going to be a long day, and there was going to be plenty of time to make up any time lost at the start, if the expected temperatures materialised. Plodding along at my reduced pace left plenty of time for taking in the sights and views as I slowly progressed through The Cotswolds, as in turn the morning slowly progressed with me. Steep descents, followed by long, energy sapping climbs, whilst pretty villages of Cotswold stone, with church spires standing proud amongst the trees and rolling hills dot the landscape. Through Bibury where the road follows the river, an “info control” at Withington. Large groups of club cyclists coming the other way as I climb slowly up towards the A436, and the seemingly endless climb to overlook Winchcombe, where we cross the afternoons Tour of Britain route and I pass under the “king of the mountain banner” before the reward of the long, mainly downhill, descent towards the first stop of the day at Snowshill.
A slice of delicious homemade carrot cake, lovingly served by the organisers wife and daughter provide a just reward, and the ideal energy boost after the efforts thus far at the first control, and the next few miles prove easier going as we descend from The Cotswolds at Broadway to pick up flatter, faster, roads as we traverse into Worcester.
Rolling hills give way to fruit orchards, and my pace picks up slightly, although I was still trying to keep the effort level as low as possible as the morning progressed and the sun moved ever higher in the sky. Sweat glistens on my arms and drips from my nose on the gentle inclines and dust and pollen cling to the sun cream on my legs, turning it into a sticky, gooey, mess. The most Northerly point on the days route arrives at lunchtime and I make the turn to start heading back towards home. The long climb up to Astwood Bank sees the sweat once again dripping from my nose, but the views from the top more than made up for the effort, and the long descent down the other side gives me chance to catch my breath
Sweeping down the country lanes in the dappled shade from the roadside trees I pass a small green on a junction with an inviting bench and think to myself “I think I stopped there last year”. A couple of miles further on I come to a junction where there should be an “Info Control” but it's nowhere to be seen.
And slowly it dawns on me, I know why I stopped at that little green with its inviting bench last year, that’s where the “Info Control” is. Bugger! What now? Push on without the control information or back track back up the hill? I contemplate the options for a minute or two and then swing the bike around to make my way back up the hill again. It makes no difference, there’s no prize on offer, nothing to be gained from going back, but it’s the principle that matters. Missing control information gathered, it’s only a few short miles to Wellesbourne where I treat myself to an ice cream and refill my water bottles. There are some hard miles ahead and I’m going to need every bit of energy I can muster, to get back through The Cotswolds.
As I make my way back into The Cotswolds the climbing starts in earnest. Long, seemingly endless drags, ever upwards, and I find myself having to stop regularly as my body struggles to cope in the heat of the afternoon, my heart rate high, breath ragged, sweat soaking my top and dripping from the brim of my helmet.
I’m not the only one struggling though, and I pass another rider taking a few minutes, sat in the shade on a roadside verge, cooling off before pushing on. The climbs came thick and fast with barely enough time on the descents to get my breath back before it starts again. I’m making progress though and as the time starts to head towards 5 O’Clock I know that the worst of the days heat is behind me.
Bourton-on-the-Water is thronged with day trippers making the most of the late summer sun and I pick my way carefully through the pretty little village before stopping on the way out for another ice cream. You know it’s been a hard, hot, day when you’ve had two ice creams!
Heading back out of Bourton-on-the-Water I nearly manage to convince myself that it’s all downhill from here, conveniently forgetting about the climb up towards Little Rissington. One last effort and even that’s behind me and it really is all downhill for the final 10 or so miles back to the start. And a great 10 miles it is too. The heat of the day is starting to dissipate as the sun starts to sink from the sky, slowly turning the glare of the day into softer pastel colours, as the shadows start to lengthen again. Another 30 minutes and I’m rolling to a stop, back where the day started, just under 11 hours and 141 miles previously. There’s a couple of riders just got back as I arrive and more filter in as I sit in the evening sun chatting about the day we’ve just had with a brew and another slice of cake. Everyone agrees it’s been a hard one today. The temperature was over 30 degrees in the afternoon and with no shelter or respite from the sun it was hard going, but oh so worth it. The grime, dust and dirt from a long day on the road clings to the sun cream on my arms and legs, my lips feel dry, and my nose has caught the sun despite a generous application of factor 30. My skin feels tight as the salt from a day’s sweat dries and salt marks stain my top. But, as always, I’ve been to new places, seen things that I’ve never noticed before, ridden through pretty villages, admired the views from the top of hills, felt the wind in my face on long descents, enjoyed the dappled shade from roadside trees, and suffered up those endless climbs, but the satisfaction of a hard day’s effort and the memories of another day out, is all the reward that’s ever required. Although that carrot cake comes a close second in the reward stakes!
And just to wrap things up, let’s have a couple of photos of the allotment and gardens, including a new bit of fruit trellis that I put up last week to support the new Raspberries that I planted last year. I think I might carry this on for all the fruit supports.
Over the last 10 years I’ve spent a fortune on wooden stakes which just rot and fall over after a couple of years, and although the metal tubing is a bit more of an outlay, it’s not actually that much more and if it lasts a bit longer, as well as looking better, it’s probably a wise investment. That’s another little project to add to the list then (I keep on saying the list never gets any shorter!)
Right, having said last week that I was determined to keep on top of things, here we are again, and I’ve actually got something to talk about this week for a change.
As promised, I actually went out playing bikes last weekend amongst other stuff. But before we get on to that, lets just wrap up the little garage refurbishment job for the time being, because apart from a bit more tidying up, I’ve pretty much completed the first phase of my little garage / workspace project. I say pretty much completed, because like everything, I’m sure that over time it will evolve, and I’m still waiting for “The Emma” to acquire me some weights to attach to the solar panel before I fit that. But the space is at least now useable, and the majority of the tools are now in the correct places, so keep watching to find out what I’m going to be using this newly acquired dry space for. But don’t hold your breath, because there’s lots of other stuff going on at the same time, so it might be a while before I get back onto this one!
So, with that little update out of the way, lets get straight on to the weekends main event, the Airbourne 200 Audax, a gentle excursion through the Sussex countryside, taking in the delights of Eastbourne and the South coast, with plenty of opportunities for a bit of plane spotting along the way.
I’ll admit that I’d been a bit nervous about this one in the days leading up to it. I’ve not done any real miles for a few weeks and my knees and Achilles tendons haven’t really been playing ball, limiting any enjoyment and making me wonder if I was ever going to get back into proper bike riding again. So it was with some trepidation that I took the van down to the start at Horsham, and spent an uncomfortably sweaty night trying to get some sleep amongst the heavy rain showers and near 100% humidity that seem to have characterised the summer of 2023. Luckily, after a wet and humid Friday, Saturday dawned dry. Although as I made my way from my overnight spot to the start point, it didn’t look like it was going to stay dry, and it was still an uncomfortably humid morning. Formalities quickly concluded, it wasn’t long before we were ready to start the days fun, and after a quick briefing to warn us of the major hazards and biggest potholes, we were off. Passing through Horsham heading for Horley and beyond, the early morning departures and arrivals from Gatwick Airport provided some airborne diversions from the glorious countryside on offer at road level. Moving steadily Northwards the air traffic slowly changed from the outbound departures to the inbound aircraft as we made our way from one side of the airport to the other, signifying the passing miles in a pleasant way.
Lingfield, famous as a horse racing destination, marked the most Northerly point of the day and provided the first checkpoint, before we turned towards Ardingly and ultimately the coast.
The run down to Ardingly proved fast, on smooth roads with little climbing and little of note. The leg after Ardingly was however somewhat different, with the wind gradually increasing as the morning went on and we neared the coast, proving a forbearer of what was to come in the afternoon. Whilst there was little of note in the mornings leg, with the sun shining and the birds singing it was great to be out. Although, the one thing I must mention is the cycle path alongside the A27 which we picked up for the final 10 or so miles into Eastbourne. If you’re not familiar with this area, the A27 is an awful bit of road. It carries a heavy traffic load, but it’s only a narrow, single carriageway, in each direction, and Saturday, as I imagine it is most days, it was head to tail slow moving traffic, none of which was prepared to give an inch. That said, it’s also now got a new purpose built, segregated cycle / footpath, running adjacent to the road, and it’s brilliant. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that this is one of the best bits of cycling infrastructure that I’ve come across in this country to date (the best bit is probably the cycleway which runs alongside the Cambridgeshire Guided Busway). Traffic free, those miles along smooth tarmac where an absolute delight, and judging by the number of families cycling along, and walkers and joggers enjoying the morning sun, it’s a hit with them too, providing a safe environment to enjoy the outdoors and get to your destination. Other councils take note, this is how you provide segregated travel options, not painting a line on the pavement that crosses the road every 10 feet or putting up a sign, and schemes like this are the only way to increase cycling miles and reduce needless car journeys!
Those lovely traffic free miles couldn’t last forever though and before long we were spat back out into Eastbourne’s lunchtime traffic. Heading through town the sea finally hove into view and as we turned to start heading westwards along the seafront the full force of the wind came into play. This was likely to be a hard few miles!
Not only is Eastbourne on the coast, but it’s also the eastern end of the South Downs Way and the start of the Seven Sisters chalk cliffs. Which means it’s all uphill from the seafront to the top of Beachy Head and beyond. The long hot climb in the early afternoon sun bought a rare treat today though in the form of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight completing their air display for the Eastbourne Airshow. Slowly ascending to the sound of Merlin engines roaring overhead and the odd glimpse of the Lancaster and Spitfires looping around over the sea was one of the real treats of the day, and by the time I reached the top of the climb and gained a clear view over the sea, they had been joined by a Typhoon, adding the sound of jet exhausts to the melee.
Eastbourne to Shoreham along the rolling coastal road, was a strange mix of fast enjoyable descents, slow gruelling climbs, heavy traffic, and that persistent nagging headwind which made for slow, hard, going.
Eventually though I reached the final turn point, and turning North the roar of the headwind stopped to be replaced with peace and quiet for the first time since lunchtime and the energy required to push forward reduced significantly. Steyning, Ashurst, and Billingshurst, came and went in the late afternoon sun as the miles ticked steadily down. Until, just under 10 hours since departing I rolled to a halt back at the start. And what a great day out it had been. It had been a few weeks since I was last out riding just for the fun of riding, and I’d almost forgotten how great a feeling it is to cover long distances by bike. The sun on your back, the wind in your face, something new to see around every corner. New roads, new places, new faces. Hard climbs, fast descents and the joy of being outside all day. A great route, a warm welcome at the start and finish, the sound of Merlin engines over Beachy Head, the sun glinting off the sea, crowds on the seafront, quiet country lanes and the sound of tyres on tarmac. Brilliant!
After Saturday’s exertions, Sunday was an easier day, and something completely different for me.
Unusually, I was at a loose end, but “The Emma” was signed up to take part in an Autosolo car event at Thruxton, so I tagged along for a day out. Now, anyone’s that’s been following along with my drivel over the past couple of years will know that I have no interest in driving whatsoever, in fact I'd go as far as to say I hate driving! But I do enjoy a bit of tinkering with cars, and I’m more than happy to watch someone else trying to kill themselves, or thrash the bits off their car, especially when it’s not on the road. As I was out and about anyway, I went direct to Thruxton from Saturdays Audax and met “The Emma” there. Well, I say “I met the Emma there”, I got there at the time she told me to be there, and she turned up half an hour later and then complained that I’d parked in the middle of the row of cars and there wasn’t room for her car beside the van. "Errr, no, when I got there, I was on the end of the row, and I kept the space clear for the first 30 minutes before I gave up!! Anyway, minor domestic sorted, I did my allocated duties and swapped the wheels on the Peugeot to the spare set, ready for Emma to ruin the tyres, and then went and volunteered my services as a marshal for the day, for which the organisers were more than grateful. Well, there’s no point just sitting around is there! It was a good day out too. “The Emma” had a great time thrashing the little Peugeot around, and I enjoyed my day sitting in the sun whilst helping to ensure everyone had a good time. And as an added bonus, the cars still in one piece too.
And finally. It’s an awful position to be in, when you’ve got so much veg on the allotment that it won’t all fit in the bucket, and you’re having to use your hat as a makeshift trug!
The allotment’s been really productive this year after a slow start, and is continuing to produce far more than we can eat. The fruit trees in the front garden are heavily laden with slowly ripening fruit too (except the pear, which has never borne fruit, despite being covered in blossom every spring) and I suspect that I’ll have to allocate a couple of hours next weekend to making plum jam. So watch this space, and I'll be back next week with some more uninteresting drivel! Right, I know that I keep on saying it, but let’s get this little Blog project back on track and try to keep it that way. I keep on making excuses for my lack of updates, but if I’m brutally honest, I’ve just been struggling for motivation and focus recently, which isn’t really an excuse at all. I’m sure that you've all had enough of hearing about my seemingly never-ending bout of injuries too, which hasn’t been helping with the mental side of things either. But I do finally think that things are on the mend. I still think that I’m a fair way from a full return to running, and even when I do eventually get back running, there’s going to be a long slow battle to regain anywhere near the fitness and stamina I did have. But my knees are definitely getting stronger, and I'm hoping I've finally turned a corner on that front. I’ve had a few weekends off the bike recently too, which seems to be helping on the injuries front, although the miles continue to mount up with the weekday commute, so I’ve not been totally lazy. I suppose this leaves one big unanswered question though. If I’ve not been running, and I’ve not been out playing bikes, then what have I been up to? Well, for a start, judging from the weather over the last month or so, I certainly don't feel like I’ve been missing anything. I don’t think that there’s been a weekend when it hasn’t rained since June, and I certainly haven’t missed getting wet, that’s for sure. What I have been doing, is actually enjoying doing some of the things that I’ve been neglecting over the past few years, while I’ve been busy adventuring. For a start the allotment looks better than it has for a long time and I’ve been really enjoying spending a peaceful couple of hours pottering around, chatting to my plot neighbours and generally enjoying the place on a weekend morning. Instead of rushing around trying to get things watered and under control before rushing off for yet another weekend away. The rains certainly helped with keeping things growing too. I don't think I've ever picked so many Runner and French beans, and there's still more to come. The greenhouse has been equally as productive too, and I’ve eaten more Cucumbers than I know what to do with, and given away even more. Likewise the Tomatoes are laden down with fruit, the Sweetcorn looks like it will be ready in the next couple of weeks, the Beetroot are the size of tennis balls and more then ready to start harvesting, and we’ve been scoffing Potatoes, baby Leeks, Carrots and Courgettes like it’s going out of fashion! Surprisingly, the rain seems to have kept a lot of the pests and bugs away too. The last few years the Broad and Runner beans have been massacred by Black Fly, but this year, I haven't seen any. Likewise, it's normally a battle keeping the Cabbage White Butterfly caterpillars from devouring all the cabbages, but again I've hardly seen any this year. It might have been a miserable few weeks of summer, but I suppose every cloud has a silver lining, and we need to be grateful for small miracles. I’ve been busy on other projects too, in fact the last few weekends have been spent on what will hopefully become a bit of a long term big project. I’m not going to reveal what that's going to be just yet, as there’s a lot of background work to be done first. But, this idea has been knocking around in the back of my mind for quite some time, but has never been even close to coming to life due to a lack of space. That all changed a couple of weeks ago when I managed to acquire another rental garage right outside our house. Now, you’ll note that I said another there, as I’ve already got a garage, but it’s crammed to bursting point with bikes, tools, DIY stuff, and assorted treasure, that’s far too useful to throw away and comes in handy on a regular basis. “The Emma” says that garages are for keeping cars in, but I note that she’s got a bike hanging up in mine, and when the BBQ comes out she doesn't seem to notice that it’s been stored in my garage all winter. Likewise when she wanted a bit of wood for something the storage garage provided, so it would appear that she’s wrong on that front! The plan for this new space isn’t to fill it full of treasure though, it’s to keep it as a workable space. Somewhere that I can actually do some work without getting wet. Obviously my little workshop’s dry, but it’s significantly limited on space. Even having made the best use of every spare inch I can, there’s not even room to swing a cat, let alone cut up an 8’x4’ sheet of plywood, or work on a car. To that end, whilst a drafty, dark, old, garage is dry, it’s not a very pleasant place to do any real work, so before I even think about embarking on a long term project, I’ve been busy making a usable space. And you know what, I’ve been having a great time doing it. Making and fixing stuff has always been the real passion in my life, and it’s something that I’ve not really done for the last few years due to the running and cycling taking over. Yes, the allotment has still been ongoing in the background, and I’ve had a couple of other little projects bubbling along, but this has been something to really get my hands stuck into and get the old grey matter working, and I’ve been loving it. I’ve forgotten about all my aches and pains, I’ve enjoyed a few weekends off the bike and I’ve made what will hopefully be a really useful space and lead to even bigger things over the next few months. And at the same time, I feel refreshed and reinvigorated and I’m looking forward to getting back on the bike next weekend for a bit of Audaxing. But before we go back to playing bikes, let's have a few pictures of what’s been occupying my time! |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
March 2024
Categories
All
|