I realised the other week that I was living next to some beautiful
countryside so bought a map of the Peak District and nipped off to look
at some peat. Got the train without any bike hassles from Manchester to
Glossop then cycled off to the start of the walk. The first half was all
uphill. Immediately realised that I am s-l-o-w up the hills - was only
doing 10mph - eek, I'm a trundly! Then it got worse. 9mph, 6.5, 5.5 then
horrow of horrors The Granny Ring Noooooooooo! Following the example of
some of the more cunning members of this group I stopped a couple of
times to take pictures + admire the view. Still didn't work - the after
starting again the speed quickly dropped back to the horrendous below-
trundly speeds. I passed the time experimenting with road positioning
but the cagers were used to wobbly cyclists and gave me a wide berth
regardless of road positioning. Tried some very primary positions round
some of the 'no overtaking' corners to see if I could get a conker[2] but
they just overtook on the blind bends anyway. Ho hum. What was
interesting is that when a train of cars came passed each got
successively closer[3]. Actually that wasn't interesting at all, but it
illustrates how bored I was with the hill.
Eventually after a period of time longer than it will take to read this
post I got to the top of something. To my immense enjoyment it was
downhill all the way for the next two miles. The big ring thing wasn't
working (bloody derailleurs...mumble...grumble) so it was a case of
letting gravity do its thing. As I passed thirty mph a vaguely worrying
wobble developed in the front wheel/headset so I kept my speed lower than
I could have.
Got to the car park, locked up and had a most pleasant time walking about
looking at peat, sheep and the view. From the top of Kinder Scout I
could probably see Manchester through the binoculars but couldn't be sure
through the haze. Watched a couple of planes land at Manchester Airport
then started walking back looking at more peat, sheep and strange rock
formations. Was absolutely no one about so scrabbled about over nig
boulders, tried to scare myself by looking over the edge and baaa'd at
the sheep.
The ride back was even better than the ride there. Had thought about the
wobble and decided to see if it was serious or not. An evil headwind
stopped me going to fast but this wasn't a problem as I did the last four
miles above thirty mph. Got up to just under 38 as my top speed which is
not too bad considering that I wasn't pedalling[4]. Raided the garage
for ridiculous amounts of chocolate to replace all the calories I'd burnt
off, then off to the station to get the train back to Manchester.
Whilst riding through Rusholme, land of the curry, I was thinking about
how considerate all the drivers had been when an oncoming Mr SMIDSY
turned right, just in front of me. I slammed on the brakes with a quick
prayer along the lines of 'don't let it hurt but please wreck the bike so
Mr. Insurance buys me a new one' but unfortunately the brakes worked a
bit better than I expected and I just smashed one of his hubcaps. The
guy stopped and I pushed the bike over. "you alright?" says he. "didn't
see you"
"Yeah, think it's ok" says I spinning the wheel to see if its buckled,
and hoiking the wheel back in line with the handlebars.
"bugger the bike, I'm worried about you!"
Crumbs. Obviously blind/dopey but he both stopped *and* seemed to care.
Slipped the unused u.r.c. Goolie Cutters back in my pocket and pedalled
off home.
Plan for the next week is to do some mystical chants over the gears to
try and get the derailleur thingy working properly, then do it again and
see how fast I can go with pedal power.
Mark.
[2] The Great Trog Conspiracy. Track a copy down and devour it.
[3] Apart from sports cars, who seemed to welcome the opportunity to
fling the car about a bit.
[4] Or is that selling stuff?
- where'd [1] go?