I've just come back from Thailand and quite frankly the last week has been a bit of a struggle. Dr. Internet says that jet leg lasts for the same number of days as time zones you cross. Which means I should be back to normal, a statistical average by the way, nothing more, by Monday.
I did still play football, where I was OK, and cycled in to work on Thursday, where I was fantastic on the way in, and hopelessly mangled by the wind, drizzle and mud on the way home. Despite doing no cycling in Thailand, at 36C in the shade, I had little inclination to move never mind clip in, I did get in to the swimming pool on a regular basis. My purple shoulders and upper back on the first day were a bit sore by day 2, especially when they were being pummelled in my massage session.
And before you ask, no I didn't, it was all very respectable thanks for asking. But I'm hoping my calves and hamstrings will have derived some benefit in the weeks to come. I did see some proper cyclists on the road, roadies in lycra and all the trimmings, and if you think us lot in the UK are strange, boy they must be blooming mental. The traffic makes Bristol at rush hour look like the lawn of a vicar's tea party.
I can't think of many successful far-eastern cyclists, I guess there aren't too many roads and hills for them to ride up, and it's not really in the culture of boiling hot countries. Having come from sub zero temperatures in the UK I know a cold as cold as it gets, but honestly, I was glad to get back to the drizzle and the damp of February in the Mendips.
Which brings me to today. One of those days with unseasonal weather, or so it proved in the end. To start the day I was having a faff over clothes, the forecast was for 4C at 9AM, rising to 12C by midday. Given that we had a few hills planned on our ACG trip, this did not seem easy to plan around. But as Skip always says, it's all about layers, and I mixed my ACG coat with some natty HTC gear underneath.
A collection of six of us assembled in the swirling fog, with a route planned by yours truly. I think at one point or other, most of them told me they hated me, as after a warm up around Wedmore, we climbed Deerleap, then a new hill out of Crosscoombe, and finally, for the three hardcore, Rowberrow.
The cafe, btw is called the Rock Cake cafe, but I had a bacon sandwich. On brown, so healthy. I felt a bit sorry for GH, it was only his second ride after 5 months off with a broken wrist. It was good to see said wrist orientated in the correct position, the car drivers seemed a bit tetchy today, and I think his wrist's former inclination may have been misinterpreted. But using that traditional north-easterner's trick of wearing hardly any clothes, while secretly despising us southern softies, got him through.
It was a great ride, and the weather turned out nice, so it did. For sure. Glastonbury Tor poking out of the mist down below us was a highlight, and it felt so nice to be out in the sunshine after the dreary winter. Yes, Spring is coming already.
I am concerned and slightly jealous all at the same time of Skip. She seems to be disappearing before our eyes, and means that she can bound up the hills with little effort. But it can't be healthy and there must a limit. Please.
The ride was cut short as various people had civic duties back in Axbridge, but I enjoyed the descent down Shipham hill tremendously, recording a 2012 top speed of 44.1mph as I hit the final corner. Don't pay too much attention to Charlie either, he lost about 4 miles somewhere, I know because i had to do a little lap of Winscombe to hit the half century. Which was good because at least I got my four climbs in. I did, however, arrive home early enough to earn inadvertent brownie points, not sure if that's good or not yet, time will tell.
One final thing. The eagle-eyed will spot a justgiving banner at the top of the page. For Above and Beyond, my charity of choice for the last three years, for quite personal reasons. I did Bristol to Land's End with them 2 years ago (250 miles) then the Somerset 100 last year (turned out to be 117) and now 'm doing a paltry 100km, but it is at night, real night when everyone is asleep, so that makes it harder.
I don't agree with Bunny about all this. I think everyone can spare something, and I get to enjoy cycling around Bristol on a sportive in the dark. If you feel like joining me, that would be great, it could be fun. But if you don't, I'd really appreciate a donation, even a small one, it all counts. Thanks.
Sunday, 26 February 2012
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
I met you wild in a snowed up town
This is not a post as such, it's more of a controlled rant. A kind of "get it off my chest" cathartic opportunity to really let rid. Sort of.
Drivers. Or more particularly, drivers who don't look. I commuted today, usual 40 mile round trip, bit of this, bit of that. I counted the number of reflective, hi-viz strips, etc, on my clothing, well started to count. I got bored when I passed 50 (it's the chequer patterns, they all add up). I have three rear red lights, and three white front lights. And yellow, lots of yellow. But they don't know about us, these people, because they don't look in the right places, i.e. beyond the end of their noses.
Or the tractor driver last Sunday, on his mobile phone who ignored me on the roundabout.
I could go on, but I'm boring myself.
Something must be done.
I could have a herd of wildebeest in front of me, or the hanging gardens of Babylon behind me, it would make no difference. So I promise this is the last time I'm going to complain about car drivers, even though they only get a slap on the wrist of a community service order or a couple of points on the licence. Like the idiot who pulled out of a turning as I was cycling past it.
In other news from the Mendip Rouleur household, I am pleased to say all is well and we can all relax now. If you know what I mean.
Rant over, normal service will resume in two weeks.
Drivers. Or more particularly, drivers who don't look. I commuted today, usual 40 mile round trip, bit of this, bit of that. I counted the number of reflective, hi-viz strips, etc, on my clothing, well started to count. I got bored when I passed 50 (it's the chequer patterns, they all add up). I have three rear red lights, and three white front lights. And yellow, lots of yellow. But they don't know about us, these people, because they don't look in the right places, i.e. beyond the end of their noses.
Or the tractor driver last Sunday, on his mobile phone who ignored me on the roundabout.
I could go on, but I'm boring myself.
Something must be done.
I could have a herd of wildebeest in front of me, or the hanging gardens of Babylon behind me, it would make no difference. So I promise this is the last time I'm going to complain about car drivers, even though they only get a slap on the wrist of a community service order or a couple of points on the licence. Like the idiot who pulled out of a turning as I was cycling past it.
In other news from the Mendip Rouleur household, I am pleased to say all is well and we can all relax now. If you know what I mean.
Rant over, normal service will resume in two weeks.
Sunday, 5 February 2012
You've got to move in a straight line
Some things strike me as absolutely barking with the benefit of hindsight. Like cycling down Cheddar gorge at sunset on a day like today. Although the temperature had risen, it was 5C at the top of Burrington Coombe according to a friendly man sat in his car, it was a good deal lower than that in the gorge. The verges were still lined with ice, I suppose the sun didn't really get the opportunity to warm the cockles of the tarmac.
I had also mistimed my ride, and was fortunate to have a couple of small lights on my helmet, and of course, my new bib. Not that there was much traffic, most people must have been at home by then. So my brakes got an outing on a descent that I normally take full-on, and I was able to pick a good line, and came through unscathed. But very, very slowly. A lesson learnt.
It was the only thing I got wrong though. For once, the weather people got it spot on, and a very convoluted and complex forecast at the start of the weekend, offered the chance to ride in a temporary thaw this afternoon. And that is how it was, as I took to some main roads, a few south-facing back roads, and combined a good half-century (old money) with some good climbing. Including a new one, the delightful Wraxhall Hill near the Tyntesfield NT estate. Steep, wooded, but with a beautiful surface of freshly laid tarmac. And I do love that.
Not many people about today, which was good, because I have had a busy peopley week, it's nice to get out away from the madding crowd sometimes. I was in London for two days, and stayed over in a hotel in Southwark, which gave me the opportunity to re-visit an old work stomping ground, meet up for dinner with Bunny, (which was great fun) and walk across a new bridge.
If you haven't been paying attention to my ramblings you may have missed that I adore a good bridge. The Millennium footbridge from Bankside to the City is as good as it gets if you want your view spectacular, with the whole panoply of London laid out against the sunrise-red-tinged azure sky. As I walked into work, can't get better than that I'd say. Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner, (song anyone?) and maybe because I have a 20 year affinity with St Paul's Cathedral, but I'm looking forward to doing it again.
I will, however take a different bag with me. I had one of those overnight bags on wheels, with a retractable handle. Boy, they are everywhere in London. I think more and more people are staying down in London, probably working on "projects", and they all pull these bags around after them. And it can make for an interesting obstacle course.
First, you have the ubiquitous problem these days of people not looking where they are going. It used to be a minor irritant, but with the advent of the iPhone and its android cousins, I'd say about 50% of people now convey themselves along the pavement with no real forward gaze of their eyeballs.
Despite my earlier comments, I do like people. Generally, I'm bending over backwards to relate. My bag, and the lattice of the steel of the bridge, combined to produce a noise like a jet engine taking off at Stanstead, one of those short take-off and landing ones. Very high-pitched and very loud. Bunny gave me some sound practical advice, that if you get one wheel right in the side of the bridge, it's only like the plane's undercarriage retracting.
So as I was strolling in to work, admiring the view, I'm right up against the edge of the bridge, keeping the noise down. Halfway across, coming towards me is a woman of a certain age, and I know, I just know this is going to be.....interesting. Five yards from her, I stop. She looks at me, and says, "Who do you think you are, expecting me to move out of your way".
"At least I'm happy" was all I could think to say as I moved out of her way, was that rude? Probably, it didn't occur to me until later that maybe she was someone famous, or maybe she was on some kind of charity bridgeathon, and there were some rules in play. I think most of all, I felt a twinge of sadness that all those people in London are so busy charging around they never have time to just, be.
On the other hand, some things strike me as absolutely barking while I'm doing them, like washing my bike in the dark, with a headtorch, trying not to slip over on last night's ice. But at least I'm happy.
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/147419719
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/504015
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4tEX8tm6qw
I had also mistimed my ride, and was fortunate to have a couple of small lights on my helmet, and of course, my new bib. Not that there was much traffic, most people must have been at home by then. So my brakes got an outing on a descent that I normally take full-on, and I was able to pick a good line, and came through unscathed. But very, very slowly. A lesson learnt.
It was the only thing I got wrong though. For once, the weather people got it spot on, and a very convoluted and complex forecast at the start of the weekend, offered the chance to ride in a temporary thaw this afternoon. And that is how it was, as I took to some main roads, a few south-facing back roads, and combined a good half-century (old money) with some good climbing. Including a new one, the delightful Wraxhall Hill near the Tyntesfield NT estate. Steep, wooded, but with a beautiful surface of freshly laid tarmac. And I do love that.
Not many people about today, which was good, because I have had a busy peopley week, it's nice to get out away from the madding crowd sometimes. I was in London for two days, and stayed over in a hotel in Southwark, which gave me the opportunity to re-visit an old work stomping ground, meet up for dinner with Bunny, (which was great fun) and walk across a new bridge.
If you haven't been paying attention to my ramblings you may have missed that I adore a good bridge. The Millennium footbridge from Bankside to the City is as good as it gets if you want your view spectacular, with the whole panoply of London laid out against the sunrise-red-tinged azure sky. As I walked into work, can't get better than that I'd say. Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner, (song anyone?) and maybe because I have a 20 year affinity with St Paul's Cathedral, but I'm looking forward to doing it again.
I will, however take a different bag with me. I had one of those overnight bags on wheels, with a retractable handle. Boy, they are everywhere in London. I think more and more people are staying down in London, probably working on "projects", and they all pull these bags around after them. And it can make for an interesting obstacle course.
First, you have the ubiquitous problem these days of people not looking where they are going. It used to be a minor irritant, but with the advent of the iPhone and its android cousins, I'd say about 50% of people now convey themselves along the pavement with no real forward gaze of their eyeballs.
Despite my earlier comments, I do like people. Generally, I'm bending over backwards to relate. My bag, and the lattice of the steel of the bridge, combined to produce a noise like a jet engine taking off at Stanstead, one of those short take-off and landing ones. Very high-pitched and very loud. Bunny gave me some sound practical advice, that if you get one wheel right in the side of the bridge, it's only like the plane's undercarriage retracting.
So as I was strolling in to work, admiring the view, I'm right up against the edge of the bridge, keeping the noise down. Halfway across, coming towards me is a woman of a certain age, and I know, I just know this is going to be.....interesting. Five yards from her, I stop. She looks at me, and says, "Who do you think you are, expecting me to move out of your way".
"At least I'm happy" was all I could think to say as I moved out of her way, was that rude? Probably, it didn't occur to me until later that maybe she was someone famous, or maybe she was on some kind of charity bridgeathon, and there were some rules in play. I think most of all, I felt a twinge of sadness that all those people in London are so busy charging around they never have time to just, be.
On the other hand, some things strike me as absolutely barking while I'm doing them, like washing my bike in the dark, with a headtorch, trying not to slip over on last night's ice. But at least I'm happy.
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/147419719
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/504015
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4tEX8tm6qw
Friday, 3 February 2012
The tell tale signs of hypothermia
I don't usually blog after commuting on the bike. It's a very repetitious thing, cycling the same roads, avoiding some places, seeking out others, you know the drill.
But today was a bit exceptional. Can you have a bit exceptional? Who cares. Yes it was very cold, and I understand why Jack Dawson didn't last very long once all he had to sustain him was Kate Winslett blathering on. Minus 7 Celsius was the official lowest temperature while I was riding to work this morning. Surprisingly very little ice about, although I was cautious just the same, particularly in the dark. One slightly dodgy moment in Barrow Gurney where there was very thick ice all over the road, where a farmer had considerately flushed his farmyard.
I had five layers on my top half, but I think I could have had fifty on and it would have made no difference. I never warmed up. K-1 wasn't playing ball either, as the back brake cable snapped on first application, so I had to go back and get the Red Madone out of her winter hibernation. Instead of warming up, my muscles seemed to get colder and colder, despite the sunrise as I swooshed down the hill towards Bristol, and very picturesque it was too.
Not too many cyclists out either, lightweights, just like all the New Year's resolutioneers at Kingswood on the first few Sundays of January, all gone back to pies and the sofa on a Sunday afternoon, once the novelty of fresh air and an elevated heart-rate has worn off. My HR was elevated today, trying to keep me warm I guess. Despite our central heating and two fleeces, I still have to wear a hat indoors. I'll have to get one of those Dickensian nightcaps with a tassel on the end. No, we don't want to go there, this is a family blog.
I read recently that there has been a spate (great word) of young women being hospitalised, or worse, in Newcastle, after going out in the evenings, getting lashed and passing out in the cold. Apparently they don't wear enough clothes to protect them from hypothermia.
On days like today, I get a little warm in my heart when I think of Winter, after all it shows the landscape at its best, especially at dawn, all misty and wispy. And temperatures like today, with dry roads, just have to be ridden in my view, for all sorts of reasons.
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Pattern Matching
How much do you know about the limbic system? It's not some strange accounting system for a firm of Bristol lawyers, it's in our brains. Have you ever wandered down a dark alley, late at night, with the wind whistling in the swaying trees? (I should stress, in case you think my description a little too familiar, that I'm not in the habit of doing this, just building the mood.) Suddenly, out of the corner of your ear, you hear a sound behind you, you half-turn your head, and see a dark shape moving towards you.
Panic!!!!! You're convinced someone is following you, intent on stealing your wallet, or worse, your new Oakley jawbones, custom-designed to match your best kit.
Your heart rate rises, your stomach knots and you start to speed up, upping the pace and accelerating away from danger. You look round, whoever it is, or whatever it is, it could be a ghost, or worse, Lance Armstrong, or even Jeremy Kyle with a DNA testing kit in his hand, following you.
At last you reach the end of the alley, and emerge into the street, flooded with neon light, while your blood is flooded with adrenaline, cortisol and other stress hormones. Following you, harmlessly, is a small child on a Halfords bike, or a black cat, or a black bag being blown by the wind. You realise there was no threat, chuckle to yourself about how stupid you were, and continue on your way.
Your limbic system has stored an image of harmful things in alleyways. And when sights, sounds, smells, nearly match that unconscious image, your brain switches on the fight/flight/freeze response, or race/sprint/crash to give it its cycling equivalent. Until your cortex, your thinking brain, gets new information AND you are clam enough to process it, you will remain in the grip of that panic.
Today I tested out a new gilet come bib, which I bought recently from here:
http://www.equisafety.com/polite/polite-notice-think-bike-reflective-waistcoat
As you can see it is a particular type of hi-viz, although it is pretty tight and has pockets, so not your usual flappy bib that makes you look like a dork. It was recommended to me by a friend on Facebook, and is amazing! Normally I shy away from this type of stuff, but I thouight it would be good for commuting because it can get pretty hairy cycling in rush hour traffic and I had heard good reports about drivers giving cyclists more space.
So I bought one and tested it for the first time today as Skip and I rolled over the levels to Glastonbury and back on a bitterly cold day. I had tried to warm up by doing a recce up and over Shipham Hill, and there were a few patches of ice on the descent, so we stuck to the flat today. The reaction from drivers is obviously a pattern match. We were given loads of space, no-one overtook us in dangerous places or tried to squeeze through under the brow of a hill, or before a bollard. We were thanked, waited for, all in all it made for such a pleasant ride, I can't wait to wear it with the matching helmet band on my run to work.
Just goes to show the impact on drivers of a good pattern match, doesn't it?
Skip should post a picture on her blog later:
http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/
The ride itself was nice and fast, we had to, we'd have been frozen in ice if we hadn't kept moving. We stopped for coffee in Heaphys in Glastonbury, which is under new management, and being refurbished. Including a hole in the door, ao we didn't even warm up there.
But it was a great ride, I did just short of 50 miles, and feel very virtuous that I washed the bike too. Perhaps I'll have to get a white bike with a chequerboard blue and silver pattern on the frame, or maybe even a blue helmet, just to match the bib of course.
Panic!!!!! You're convinced someone is following you, intent on stealing your wallet, or worse, your new Oakley jawbones, custom-designed to match your best kit.
Your heart rate rises, your stomach knots and you start to speed up, upping the pace and accelerating away from danger. You look round, whoever it is, or whatever it is, it could be a ghost, or worse, Lance Armstrong, or even Jeremy Kyle with a DNA testing kit in his hand, following you.
At last you reach the end of the alley, and emerge into the street, flooded with neon light, while your blood is flooded with adrenaline, cortisol and other stress hormones. Following you, harmlessly, is a small child on a Halfords bike, or a black cat, or a black bag being blown by the wind. You realise there was no threat, chuckle to yourself about how stupid you were, and continue on your way.
Your limbic system has stored an image of harmful things in alleyways. And when sights, sounds, smells, nearly match that unconscious image, your brain switches on the fight/flight/freeze response, or race/sprint/crash to give it its cycling equivalent. Until your cortex, your thinking brain, gets new information AND you are clam enough to process it, you will remain in the grip of that panic.
Today I tested out a new gilet come bib, which I bought recently from here:
http://www.equisafety.com/polite/polite-notice-think-bike-reflective-waistcoat
As you can see it is a particular type of hi-viz, although it is pretty tight and has pockets, so not your usual flappy bib that makes you look like a dork. It was recommended to me by a friend on Facebook, and is amazing! Normally I shy away from this type of stuff, but I thouight it would be good for commuting because it can get pretty hairy cycling in rush hour traffic and I had heard good reports about drivers giving cyclists more space.
 |
| It says polite and there's nothing wrong with that! |
 |
| Thank heavens my red top's not showing |
So I bought one and tested it for the first time today as Skip and I rolled over the levels to Glastonbury and back on a bitterly cold day. I had tried to warm up by doing a recce up and over Shipham Hill, and there were a few patches of ice on the descent, so we stuck to the flat today. The reaction from drivers is obviously a pattern match. We were given loads of space, no-one overtook us in dangerous places or tried to squeeze through under the brow of a hill, or before a bollard. We were thanked, waited for, all in all it made for such a pleasant ride, I can't wait to wear it with the matching helmet band on my run to work.
Just goes to show the impact on drivers of a good pattern match, doesn't it?
Skip should post a picture on her blog later:
http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/
The ride itself was nice and fast, we had to, we'd have been frozen in ice if we hadn't kept moving. We stopped for coffee in Heaphys in Glastonbury, which is under new management, and being refurbished. Including a hole in the door, ao we didn't even warm up there.
But it was a great ride, I did just short of 50 miles, and feel very virtuous that I washed the bike too. Perhaps I'll have to get a white bike with a chequerboard blue and silver pattern on the frame, or maybe even a blue helmet, just to match the bib of course.
Monday, 23 January 2012
I know a land where they live for today, 'cause tomorrow is too far away
Unfortunately not and I fear too little sleep for me today.
The Princess used to, and maybe still does, have trouble sleeping. Foolishly I used to think it was something that would never happen to me, slept like a log, could sleep anywhere, all that. But this Winter, well, it's been difficult. I'm off somewhere tropical myself in a few weeks, let's hope I don't meet that fate. But at least it will give me a boost before the real Spring kicks in. Once the sleep thing gets into your head, well, that's it, or rather it isn't. There's probably a German word for it.
Lots of plans being made for things to come at the moment, so today (or yesterday) it was nice to just get out and do a straightforward ride with like-minded souls in the ACG. Skip's great blog is descriptive, I really haven't the ability or desire to repeat it all, read hers, she does it better.
http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/
And I went to see War Horse yesterday. All the adults came out crying whilst the kids, well my 11-year old son, seemed to enjoy the explosions and the trench warfare. Good film (if a tad predictable), and Dartmoor looks spectacular, which is why I'm going to do my best to ride there as much as possible. It seemed to have touched another friend of mine last week too, although probably not for the same reasons.
http://monmarduman.blogspot.com/
I have to say I think he's mental for wanting to do all that running, not a sabre-toothed tiger in sight. He'll be swimming in a couple of years, like the triathlete who came out with us today, all a bit too organised for my liking. Beauty, that is where it is, form over function, every time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9H0PwObjfA
Charlie stats below:
The Princess used to, and maybe still does, have trouble sleeping. Foolishly I used to think it was something that would never happen to me, slept like a log, could sleep anywhere, all that. But this Winter, well, it's been difficult. I'm off somewhere tropical myself in a few weeks, let's hope I don't meet that fate. But at least it will give me a boost before the real Spring kicks in. Once the sleep thing gets into your head, well, that's it, or rather it isn't. There's probably a German word for it.
Lots of plans being made for things to come at the moment, so today (or yesterday) it was nice to just get out and do a straightforward ride with like-minded souls in the ACG. Skip's great blog is descriptive, I really haven't the ability or desire to repeat it all, read hers, she does it better.
http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/
And I went to see War Horse yesterday. All the adults came out crying whilst the kids, well my 11-year old son, seemed to enjoy the explosions and the trench warfare. Good film (if a tad predictable), and Dartmoor looks spectacular, which is why I'm going to do my best to ride there as much as possible. It seemed to have touched another friend of mine last week too, although probably not for the same reasons.
http://monmarduman.blogspot.com/
I have to say I think he's mental for wanting to do all that running, not a sabre-toothed tiger in sight. He'll be swimming in a couple of years, like the triathlete who came out with us today, all a bit too organised for my liking. Beauty, that is where it is, form over function, every time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9H0PwObjfA
Charlie stats below:
Sunday, 15 January 2012
What have the Romans ever done for us?
If you have ever watched "Life of Brian" you'll know where that comes from. My favourite line from that particular snippet of genius?
"Well, yeah, obviously the roads, the roads go without saying don't they?"
I spent a lot of time pondering that quip today, about three and a half hours, give or take, and wondering where that wisdom went between the end of the Roman occupation of Briatin, and the jurisdiction of the various petty bureacracies that make our highways and metalled surfaces what they are.
I'm sure I learnt at school that the Roman roads were so good, that they were still the best roads in the UK over a thousand years after the Romans left. If that's the case, what happened? Our roads are shocking. Cracks, potholes, gravel, hedge debris, poor drainage. That's just the start.
There's one stretch of the Wells to Wedmore road, just after you come out of Wells and go down the hill towards Wookey. It was always a bit sketchy, so I was delighted to see that they have re-surfaced it. Except, they have done whole sections of the road, and then left big gaps of rubbish in between the re-surfaced bits. What brain thought that would be a good idea? One obsessed with cost and not value that's who.
Now if you want to cheer yourself after reading that rant, have a look at the clip. Just be careful though. If you have limited time, this could lead to an evening's surfing on Youtube, looking at other Monty Python clips.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExWfh6sGyso
I particularly liked the self-defence class.
Today I was due to travel with Skip up to the Cotswolds to do a winter mini sportive. It was an opportunity to cycle with a change of scenery, but she wasn't feeling too good, having a recurring bug, and an unwillingness to consider that she could be over doing it. Who am I to disagree with her?
So I couldn't really be bothered to get up early and decided to fashion a local loop, with a few bail-out options in case she wanted to join me, which she didn't. So I re-fashioned the loop to make it nice and tidy, with no doubling back on myself and a little bit more climbing than I've been doing of late.
I headed north and flirted with the outskirts of Bristol as I climbed Belmont Hill, then back through Long Ashton and up to Barrow Gurney and over the shoulder to Winford and down into the Chew Valley. The wind was decidedly easterly, and was bitingly cold, so I did my best not to hang about. As I passed the lake, I overtook a couple on a tandem, the same couple who had done Bristol to Land's End back in September 2010. I chatted for a while, but didn't linger, as I headed up to Litton, Chewton Mendip and over the hill into Wells.
Now I had the wind at my back and got the speed up as I headed home across the flats, for a round trip of just over 56 miles (Charlie is a bit inaccurate, having lost reception in Backwell) and just over 3000 feet of climbing.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/486679
I've had a good week all in all, first one back at work after Christmas and New Year, and two commuting trips, a total of 150 miles all told. Good job I've banked them, I'm not going to get an opportunity this week, not till Sunday anyway.
As for those roads, the answer is quite simple. Aside from sending someone back in time, it's all about the camber and the drainage. In France, even the small back roads have a camber to them which generally seems to make the water run off and drain properly. Here we have kerbs, of concrete, or verges, of grass, that are higher than the road surface. So all the water stays on the road for longer and freezes when it gets cold. I suspect the materials are poor too, and there seems to be a mentality to repair the least amount possible. This all leads to the deterioration we see every time we cycle.
"Well, yeah, obviously the roads, the roads go without saying don't they?"
I spent a lot of time pondering that quip today, about three and a half hours, give or take, and wondering where that wisdom went between the end of the Roman occupation of Briatin, and the jurisdiction of the various petty bureacracies that make our highways and metalled surfaces what they are.
I'm sure I learnt at school that the Roman roads were so good, that they were still the best roads in the UK over a thousand years after the Romans left. If that's the case, what happened? Our roads are shocking. Cracks, potholes, gravel, hedge debris, poor drainage. That's just the start.
There's one stretch of the Wells to Wedmore road, just after you come out of Wells and go down the hill towards Wookey. It was always a bit sketchy, so I was delighted to see that they have re-surfaced it. Except, they have done whole sections of the road, and then left big gaps of rubbish in between the re-surfaced bits. What brain thought that would be a good idea? One obsessed with cost and not value that's who.
Now if you want to cheer yourself after reading that rant, have a look at the clip. Just be careful though. If you have limited time, this could lead to an evening's surfing on Youtube, looking at other Monty Python clips.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExWfh6sGyso
I particularly liked the self-defence class.
Today I was due to travel with Skip up to the Cotswolds to do a winter mini sportive. It was an opportunity to cycle with a change of scenery, but she wasn't feeling too good, having a recurring bug, and an unwillingness to consider that she could be over doing it. Who am I to disagree with her?
So I couldn't really be bothered to get up early and decided to fashion a local loop, with a few bail-out options in case she wanted to join me, which she didn't. So I re-fashioned the loop to make it nice and tidy, with no doubling back on myself and a little bit more climbing than I've been doing of late.
I headed north and flirted with the outskirts of Bristol as I climbed Belmont Hill, then back through Long Ashton and up to Barrow Gurney and over the shoulder to Winford and down into the Chew Valley. The wind was decidedly easterly, and was bitingly cold, so I did my best not to hang about. As I passed the lake, I overtook a couple on a tandem, the same couple who had done Bristol to Land's End back in September 2010. I chatted for a while, but didn't linger, as I headed up to Litton, Chewton Mendip and over the hill into Wells.
Now I had the wind at my back and got the speed up as I headed home across the flats, for a round trip of just over 56 miles (Charlie is a bit inaccurate, having lost reception in Backwell) and just over 3000 feet of climbing.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/486679
I've had a good week all in all, first one back at work after Christmas and New Year, and two commuting trips, a total of 150 miles all told. Good job I've banked them, I'm not going to get an opportunity this week, not till Sunday anyway.
As for those roads, the answer is quite simple. Aside from sending someone back in time, it's all about the camber and the drainage. In France, even the small back roads have a camber to them which generally seems to make the water run off and drain properly. Here we have kerbs, of concrete, or verges, of grass, that are higher than the road surface. So all the water stays on the road for longer and freezes when it gets cold. I suspect the materials are poor too, and there seems to be a mentality to repair the least amount possible. This all leads to the deterioration we see every time we cycle.
Oh don't get me started.........
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