|I just missed the best part of the sunrise, but the clouds kept the picture interesting.|
As predicted on the last post, my feet were freezing shortly after leaving the house. The rest of me was lovely and warm. The cold took my by surprise, as it always does. It gets gently cooler each weekend, and then suddenly I have painful toes.
I'm still thinking about the summer, and longer rides to little villages and pubs. How are they now so far in the past?
I am determined to get out no matter the weather, I'll stay at home if it gets too dangerous though. December last year, had me slipping, sliding and eventually going down. I have been lucky so far. Matt and I do go out in the snow, it's not that bad until it starts to melt. The fun wears off quickly, as we get wetter and colder. The likelihood of ice is what keeps us inside. Hit a patch and it's almost guaranteed to end painfully.
Today was a lone ride, Matt has been plagued with punctures. It's become very common to get an abort due to a flat text; very frustrating.
Being on my own meant I could choose a different route. I rode along roads that normally lead to Brighton or at least a pub a few miles short of the coast. I knew I wouldn't have time to go that far, so at ten miles I turned around and headed for home. Unfamiliar roads gave the ride new interest. Matt and I rarely have the spare time we use to so we do less exploring.
The picture below was taken yesterday as we sat at the bus stop drinking our beverage of choice, I have had the mud guard for years. But the humour in the name only just dawned on me. They're a British company based in Cornwall. It does as good a job as the big guards you attach to the seat post, but doesn't work loose all the time. I think it looks neater too.
Next weekend it'll be time to increase the layers of clothing, and maybe avoid the slow way to the bus stop. It's always the first to get icey and both times I have fallen, it's been on this road. The problem is the B269 is an unpleasant place to cycle. People drive along it with little regard for cyclists, and the cycle path is poorly maintained and at this time of the year thickly covered in wet, slippery leaves. I'm sure it's where Matt picks up his punctures. On the way home we part company at the start of the road; I turn off down a twisty lane, and Matt often takes to the path.
Thirty six miles this weekend, with plenty of hills; I'm really pleased with that. Apart from holidays, I have barely missed a ride.
Can't wait for next weekend.