Back into my usual routine and I was late to the starting point. Shooting down the hill to meet Roachy I’d realised two things. One: it was too bloody early and Two: it was far too cold for the gear I was wearing. When I’d looked out of the window that morning it looked a beautiful, sunny and glorious day. Shame I’d not thought that it might still be feckin freezing.
We got off the road quickly and on the very first piece of off road we were greeted by a gaggle of geese. The not-so-little feckers would not budge and hissed at us as we weaved through them. The morning was already becoming far too bizarre for my liking.
We came to a path that had been blocked (we assume to stop motorbikes getting through) with a huge pile of thorn bushes and whilst having a twat of a time climbing over those with NuNu over my shoulder I realised I’d forgotten to turn on the logging for the gps. Doh. So if you actually look at these things you’ll see it starts in the middle of nowhere. Anyways………..
Down past Rooms farm and onto that twatting climb, it was not fun. The surface was that really slick mud where you seem to get no grip and we had a strong wind blowing across us the whole way up. Suffice to say I didn’t make it to the top. In fact I think thats the shortest ever distance up the hill before I’ve had to get off . Up on the top the trail was no better. Our equestrian buddies had made sure the top track was so churned up it was nearly impossible to ride.
Into Cockersdale woods and it was no better, the mud was even feckin worse. We tried a track we’d never rode before but it turned out to be a bit pants. Across the stream and guess what? More mud. (did you guess correctly? Well done if you did! You get 5 points on the Big Al’s Tell-it-to-someone-who-gives-a-feck leaderboard). The only moment of excitement through out the entire woods was when I snapped my mudguard crossing a stile. For a short while we stood deliberating wether to sail it down the stream or not. Being the earth-luvvin hippy I am; I stuck it in my camelbak and we made our way back home.
All said it wasn’t a great ride but it still felt good to be out.
To quote uncle stAn “ A bad day on the bike is still better than a good day at work!â€
Fat lad
