Eight days I'd been off the bike, but it felt more like eight years. We had a three little pigs situation, a huff and a puff, and I'll climb that hill less efficiently than I've done for ages. And somehow I've managed to do close on 55 miles, at various points today I thought I'd "ride into form", but it never really happened and I felt like 2011 is ending on something of a damp squib.
That said, I still enjoyed myself, after all it is cycling, and there are few things in life more enjoyable. And the company was great too, for it was an official ACG ride, to which Skip, Boy Wonder and Military Nurse had made it. Life being life, there had to be the added complication of dropping the car off at the garage in Weston, for its 150K service (no wasp nest today though), but fortunately the strong westerly breeze propelled me to Axbridge in time to do Mrs Mendip Rouleur a favour and erect (steady) the Christmas tree, and get to Skip's house before the scheduled departure time.
It was my route too, and you know there is nothing I like better than taking people up the gorge. Look, I know it's childish, you know it's juvenile, but you still smirked or giggled didn't you? I find it odd we don't have a word in English for double entendre, as far as I know the French don't take it like we do.
From there we looped around the top, and as we were coming towards Burrington, "ping" one of the Nurse's spokes snapped, leaving his wheel slightly buckled and unrideable. He called the cavalry, or should that be the infantry, I don't know, and I gave him my emergency skull cap and gilet. For on the top of the Mendips, that brisk sea level breeze was now approaching a blustery wind, and no-one appreciates that when they are hanging around waiting for a rescue.
Chivalrously (hard to say and harder to spell), we left him there and carried on down Burrington Coombe, which was still fun, despite the headwind. Across to Wrington, and I thought I knew a short cut from the top of Long Lane to cut out that short stretch on the A38. It did the latter, but not the former, and we managed to find the messiest cut hedge in North Somerset. They may not always cut hedges well up here, but they do know how to re-surface a road, as we found out going down Brockley Coombe, and again later on up Ghost Hill (which is not really called that but I'm convinced there is a ghost there).
In between we blasted out into the full force of the wind as it whipped across the levels on the way into Yatton. Grateful for sure to reach the nice warm cafe at the station. I'm sure it will be making an appearance in next year's competition, the Strawberry Line cafe:
http://www.strawberrylinecafe.co.uk/
The soup and bread was lovely as was the coffee. So muddy were we by now that we left a bit too much of it on their nice clean seats, but they seemed OK despite my profuse apology.
All that was left was for me to peel off in Sandford as the others headed back to Axbridge and I headed back to pick up my car in Weston. Unlike the cafe, they seemed quite keen to keep me out of their nice sparkly showroom, even to the extent they were happy for me to pay over the phone on Monday!
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/458463
In a little over an hour's time I'm off to the ACG Christmas meal, so I better go and make myself even more beautiful than I am already. I wonder what we are going to talk about......
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