the vanishing

down the steps, cursing the sanitation. spaced just too far apart for fun, but stick with it, it's about to get good. sneaking right and it all smooths out. time to increase the speed. flashes of green and yellow. the seasons are a changin' but the sun's still out. keep on weaving between the ancient oaks and silver birch.

early morning means dappled trails, the light plays tricks on the ground. hard right. get into the groove and slingshot round. remember to miss that bit of old concrete post, almost hidden by wild flowers. brambles scratch and tall grass tickles, the trail narrows beneath your wheels. short, sharp left. a bit steep, almost a switchback but not quite. more of a chicane. red berries scatter, power out and power on.

you can see where you want to go but, for a split second, the route almost disappears. off camber acorns and hold your nerve. back into the trees. handle bar high nettles line the way. two more swoops and you're done. relish the final twist. get spat back out. onto the yellow dust road.

'the vanishing'. it's less than a quarter of a mile long but it's the best stretch of local dirt and sand. it's nearly perfect, the faster you go the better it is. one more time? yes please.

dancing shoes

august has been a wet month. i'm not complaining about muddy trails or slippery roots, i wouldn't know, i've not ventured further than the offy. the past few weeks have drifted by in a boozy haze. who knew shouting europe's 'the final countdown' could be so much fun, or drinking shots through ridiculously long straws is in fact hilarious.

things are starting to wobble again and the thought of lycra makes me run away screaming. a self imposed detox is to begin-which basically means no mid week booze, no crisps or chocolate to be consumed whilst on the sofa and no baking until...september.

...thanks for the photo lizzy. not my shoes by the way.

a virtual holiday

...no, i don't know why i'm wearing a beard either.

hangovers seem to linger these days. the big chill was fantastic, as usual. dancing til dawn and living off tequila and chips. the high of big cycling miles combined with good friends and chooons lasted as long as the hangover.

back to earth with a bump. suddenly everything needs to be done at once. the 'serious' to do list is ever growing. bursary forms need completing, houses moving, decisions making, my job also finishes in 6 weeks, probably should find something to fill in the gap til skool starts. basically, i've been busy doing nothing but having a little worry. however, as the great ronan keating says, life is a roller coaster and you've just gotta ride it.

it's jane's birthday tomorrow and she'll officially be a giffer (30). it's also my two year blog-a-versery this week. there's been lots of ups and downs, some flat bits, quite a few punctures, a few too many cakes and more friendly support and baiting than i could ever have imagined. thanks for stopping by guys, it's very much appreciated. help your self to a cake, there's plenty to go round.

the 'home2home' ride

nottingham to newport, according to google map, is 141m ...if you don't get lost.

monday morning, don't snooze, don't think, just get up. coffee, muesli, gingerbread man. check out the window, still no rain. no excuse not to go. out the door and pedaling by 06:00.

moved by the romanticized pain and suffering of le tour i fancied a big ol' road ride. as usual the idea was great but my planning was poor. road bike not in a fit a state for the distance, so slicks fitted to the lean, mean, commuting machine. route plotting consisted of getting walking directions from google map. 24 pages of instructions to be exact. i was ready for a long day in the saddle....

still in nottingham, and first turning missed. brain still asleep. on to castle donnington and i find myself riding down a slip road to the m1. wake up time. back on route and heading to (adrian) mole country. flat green fields and bright yellow corn, the tarmac winds its way through sleepy villages. 4x4's and jag's being driven too fast, country pubs and flies in my eyes.

a couple of jelly babies and by 11 o'clock i'm just south of of birmingham. the sun is shining and all is well. a pause for marmite sandwiches (freshly made this time) and i'm rolling on the first bit of duel carriage way towards evesham. typically, i manage to cycle 7m in the wrong direction. that makes 14m of superfluous, death defying dual carriageway. oh well, keep on pedaling.

when i finally reach evesham i stop for a pint of coke. and a pint of water. oh, and a bag of cheese and onion crisps....oh, and can i have a bag of peanuts as well please. the bar keep comments that i've put my good work to waste with all those calories.

sat outside someone asks me for directions, ha, i nearly choke on a dry roast peanut. a local bar fly asks where i'm heading. i realsie that newport sounds ridiculous, so plump for chepstow. "what! today, on that? it's about 140m!" i hope he's wrong, it should only be about 70m from here.

rollin', rollin', rollin'. some more missed turns and cursings of google map directions. a realisation that a more comprehensive map, or a map, would be really useful. in a village somewhere near cheltnam i break. mind fuzzing around the edges, nothing makes sense anymore and i've been up and down the same stretch of road for the last 30 minutes.

i phone home. jane manages to work out where i am, despite me not being able to remember how many times i've crossed to motorway or give her any road names. printed directions are now scrapped. jane gets me moving and soon i'm on the roads i know. i spot my first sign for newport. only 43m.

the genius of this route 'planning' is all the climbing is in the last 30m. brilliant. but climbs mean descents and i'm going as fast as i dare. the severn estuary is on my left and it's a stunning evening for fast corners on skinny(ish) tyres.

more coke, another sandwich, another fly in the eye. the sun's setting as i finally cross the boarder into wales. this really does feel like the home straight now, only 10m to go. dark, car-less lanes lead me to the final turn. i've never been so pleased to see my parents house.

just over 16hours in the saddle, approximately 158m ridden, numerous wrong turns, slight sunburn, not a single puncture and a smile from ear to ear. first tick off the list. tidy.