Just a casual, causal, easy thing

This is what I posted on Friday morning:

Anyone fancy a ride on Sunday morning? Not too early, not too late, not too easy, not too hard?

That was before  I got shot-blasted by the rain on the way home, and shot-blasted by the all-conquering (for a change) Irons yesterday. Fortunately the scheduled time was 11.30AM, meaning a bit more sleep was possible, but I was still feeling a bit on the tired side when I rolled down into the Square in Axbridge for a new class of ride.

Four of us set off, Mendip Mackem, Skip and IT (name to follow soon) and we went over past the Webbington Hotel, switching back and forth trying to avoid the stiff northerly wind. I had opted for shorts, it's Spring and bright sunshine abounded, and I didn't want to be too embarrassed by MM, who avoided the stereotype by adding arm warmers to his shorts and short-sleeved jersey. By contrast I had a warm base, a warm top and a windproof coat. Southern sofite and proud.

The human beings in their metal boxes were an eclectic bunch today. Just after I stopped to put my chain back on, a man stopped to offer me help, he had a wide tool selection in his car apparently. That's never happened before, such public spiritedness was in marked contrast to the camper van driver who misjudged my speed when overtaking in the face of an oncoming car. Avoiding action and a Look , that the he who shall not be named would be proud of, were duly dished out.

Likewise the random abuse I got from the passenger in a car that passed me near Yatton school. I have no idea what she said as she charmingly leaned out of the window of the Citroen Saxo her male companion was driving. She might have been complimenting me on my stylish pedalling action or the colour co-ordination of my lycra. Who knows, she didn't look very happy, and all that emotion sadly was wasted on me.

The vague, casual plan, had been to head out to Kingston Seymour via Yatton. We considered changing our mind, but stuck to it in the end, only to find a shut cafe. Or rather a cafe shut in readiness for a Christening party. We ummed and ahhed and came up with an alternative plan to hit the Walled Garden. It was at this point that Skip decided to bail, as the effects of her sportive and the understandable lure of Asda caught up with her.

Paradise

The rest of us swung out across the moors, before passing Motivation corner and up Brockley Coombe. I was beside myself with excitement, internally at least, that a plane flew directly over our heads as we cycled past the end of the Bristol airport runway, narrowly missing some startled plane spotters in the process. IT and MM were both decidedly "on it", and we had a brisk climb up Brockley, with MM leading the way.

We stopped for some lovely coffee and reasonably priced and discounted cake in the Walled garden, my choice was chocolate and stout, all the iron being the obvious attraction.

If you have ever read Dr. Hutch in Cycling Weekly, you will know about his friend Bernard, the one who has races with other cyclists, the latter not realising they were in a race. It was delightful for IT and I to catch a Weston Wheeler, he had around 3-400 metres on us at the start of Burrington Coombe, and we took him just before the top.  ACG 1 Weston Wheelers 0. All we have to do now is keep a low profile and the League is ours.

From there we wended our way back to Shipham and Axbridge respectively, for a round trip of around 45 miles, and very enjoyable it was too, so thanks to my fellow riders for a great ride, even if the planning was even more casual than I intended.

Charlie's route

My friend Bunny has been having some serious issues with his back of late, which has stopped almost all exercise, so I hope he pulls through unscathed in the end. It's poor posture that is the cause of all this, and it also meant I spent Thursday afternoon on a table in just my underpants, lying on a rolled up towel while a woman jumped on top of me. Obviously that is poetic licence to describe osteopathy, and sounds much, much more pleasurable than it actually was. If you have ever been in the position of having four of your mid-vertebrae unlocked at the same time, you will know this. If you haven't, you really should give it a go, it's such fun.

At home Mrs Mendip Rouleur is scaring me by clearing out stuff.  Lots of stuff, from drawers, desks, cupboards, you name it. EBay and the charity shop have never been so busy. In fact I'm not going to sit in one place for too long or I could be next. Apparently we shouldn't be keeping stuff we haven't used for ages, "just in case we need it", as we won't. Like the cycling top I hadn't worn for about 3 years, one of the first I ever owned. But my blue Northwave top was perfect today, and although I see her point, and I do now have dozens of rags (aka clothes that were going to be recycled) for cleaning the bike, the perfect blend of temperature and wind direction and sunshine that meant only today's clothes combination would do, could well recur.

It just doesn't pay to be too casual about these things, it matters.