Ride
I tried out my new bike properly on tuesday. I had a route planned that involved mostly roads, but some tracks through the woods as well. I thought I'd break myself in gently. It was very good fun. Definitely need a helmet though. The hills round here are steep and atm (though i suspect for most of the year) covered in very wet mud and leaves.
I managed to stay on the bike for all the downhill bits, although at a couple of points I balanced on one peddle with my other foot hovering above the ground (and even used it as a brake when my actual brakes had no effect due to it being so slippery) just in case. Not very flash maybe, but there was no-one about to see me. I would have managed most of the uphill too, but my timing was a bit off with my gears and I stalled at the bottom of the main off-road hill and couldn't get started again - leaves on the track, yes.
The path then turned into a very narrow mud track which I attempted to ride on but the wheels just kept spinning. So I man-handled the bike all the way to the top of that only to find a style leading to a field full of sheep. I was in the process of lifting the bike over the style when I spotted the 'no cyclists' sign. They could have put that at the bottom of the path!! There was no way I was struggling back down there again, so I continued on regardless, concluding that as I was incapable of riding the bike over the very rutted, wet field, I was in fact not a cyclist but a loony carrying a bike, and there was no mention of that being a problem.
Once in the field I had 50 pairs of eyes staring at me. They then started to approach in small groups. Ok...back away slowly...use the bike for protection if necessary... But they soon lost interest once they realised I neither had food, nor was food.
It was a beautiful day. Bright sunshine and blue sky but with mist sinking down over the hills opposite. I got back to the road and came home via the extraordinarily picturesque village of Bisley. It even has it's own spring/drinking fountain. Beautiful.
Ben was a bit more daring on his ride at the w/e. Although also a little less well-orientated. Somehow he managed to lose the paths entirely, rode through a random field at the top of the hill and then headed off straight down the precipitous hill through the middle of the woods. When he returned he had splatters of mud all the way from the bottom of his trousers, up his legs and chest, all over his face and up to the top of his woolly hat, but was very proud of himself for not having fallen off once! Apparently the way to avoid that is to ride very fast over the muddy ground so that you carve your own furrow through it all and whatever you do don't use your brakes. Wisdom very hard-won over many years, as you might imagine. Two bright eyes and two rows of teath gleaming through the otherwise brown face suggested that he enjoyed himself though!
I managed to stay on the bike for all the downhill bits, although at a couple of points I balanced on one peddle with my other foot hovering above the ground (and even used it as a brake when my actual brakes had no effect due to it being so slippery) just in case. Not very flash maybe, but there was no-one about to see me. I would have managed most of the uphill too, but my timing was a bit off with my gears and I stalled at the bottom of the main off-road hill and couldn't get started again - leaves on the track, yes.
The path then turned into a very narrow mud track which I attempted to ride on but the wheels just kept spinning. So I man-handled the bike all the way to the top of that only to find a style leading to a field full of sheep. I was in the process of lifting the bike over the style when I spotted the 'no cyclists' sign. They could have put that at the bottom of the path!! There was no way I was struggling back down there again, so I continued on regardless, concluding that as I was incapable of riding the bike over the very rutted, wet field, I was in fact not a cyclist but a loony carrying a bike, and there was no mention of that being a problem.
Once in the field I had 50 pairs of eyes staring at me. They then started to approach in small groups. Ok...back away slowly...use the bike for protection if necessary... But they soon lost interest once they realised I neither had food, nor was food.
It was a beautiful day. Bright sunshine and blue sky but with mist sinking down over the hills opposite. I got back to the road and came home via the extraordinarily picturesque village of Bisley. It even has it's own spring/drinking fountain. Beautiful.
Ben was a bit more daring on his ride at the w/e. Although also a little less well-orientated. Somehow he managed to lose the paths entirely, rode through a random field at the top of the hill and then headed off straight down the precipitous hill through the middle of the woods. When he returned he had splatters of mud all the way from the bottom of his trousers, up his legs and chest, all over his face and up to the top of his woolly hat, but was very proud of himself for not having fallen off once! Apparently the way to avoid that is to ride very fast over the muddy ground so that you carve your own furrow through it all and whatever you do don't use your brakes. Wisdom very hard-won over many years, as you might imagine. Two bright eyes and two rows of teath gleaming through the otherwise brown face suggested that he enjoyed himself though!