Apologies for the length of time between posts but you know how it is; sometimes real life gets in the way…. So any ways, back in the mists of time Roachy and I decided it was time to find some more routes for our Tuesday night rides and on that strength we decided to use a weekend ride for a recon blast.
We agreed to meet at 9 at my humble abode and so when Roachy turned up at a quarter to we were both shocked and surprised to find I was ready! At a decent pace (for a Sunday morning) we set off making our way to our first climb; a short but very steep cobbled path that cuts a fair bit of road off the route. Things were starting off good and I was giving it a good go until the chain came off onto the spokes trying to reach the lowest gear on the cassette and twatting my knee on the handlebar. Maybe not so good after all.
The next mile and a half was road to the cut off point and it was nice to be off the tarmac and onto the trails proper. We followed the path past the farm and across the back of the industrial estate gossiping as we went and also lamenting about all the land that both he and I had played on as kids that was now new housing. We crossed the dual carriage way eventually to get onto some more trails and carried on to Thorpe lane. We flew down Thorpe lane and cut off down the back of Middleton dodging burnt out cars and broken glass all the way.
We came out across from the White Rose and followed a track that I hadn’t ridden for years (and judging by the state of it neither had anyone else). It was a narrow path running parallel to a stream with a lot of overgrown thorn bushes and the surface was that awful slippy mud that’s almost impossible to get any traction on. After a short distance we were out of Nam and back onto open fields and the last few miles to home.
On the final climb of the day the hill seemed to be getting even harder to go than usual and with a few muttered blue words I looked backed and confirmed my suspicion of a puncture. Less than a mile from home as well. Feck. After wrestling a thorn out of my tyre (it need the pliers from my Leatherman) and replacing the tube we finished the climb and parted company at the road.
Back home I rinsed the bike down lubed the chain and man handled it into the cellar. Getting as nekkid as the day I was born in the kitchen I flung my filthy kit into the washer and dashed upstairs flesh wobbling all the way to the shower. Singing badly to the Snow Patrol CD I noticed something in my arm. Picking it out with a fingernail a thorn had worked its way through my rain jacket through my jersey and into my forearm. Nice. Still it will be a good ride for Tuesdays
Fat Lad