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rhb
Maj
muddy canal pic from todays pootle, first time i've enjoyed riding a bike in about 25 years and all it took was lobstermitts, Gore-Tex boots, flat pedals and no gears
it was premium uk gravel tho, absolute bliss and to do that you have to ride to the ride.
cruising some absolutely lovely Manchester cycle infrastructure with a pal (an inner city dual carriage way), cars howling past, no chance of a natter about the woes of love or how Christmas is "terrible every year but we keep doing it", just the fine purrr of hatchbacks
alas a brief bit of disassociation and we're at the end of the tracks and hopping onto the path for some of that sweet sweet gnermeck'. i'm on the fine bike below, my friend on his brother allday with some lovely slick terravails, cnc'd parts within an inch of our lives, ovnight parts from japan, i'm in arcteryx trousers and hoka boots, a tnf vest i've put cycle patches on, he's wearing a puffer vest and flannels, jeans and knitted giros, let me tell you people, we looked like a couple of GRADE A tossers, you would have loved it.
never the less, the ride, turning the corner we entered what could only be described as the somme, im talking bits of dog sticking out the mud, yummy mummies dragging their children around looking to be crushed by less considerate cyclists, the path was 10% mud, 90% water.
now me? with my swept bars, dropped saddle, semi knobblie tyres? absalutely gliding through it, quick skid in the mud, little hop over a root, if i saw myself in third person i would have seen a gangly girl awkwardly failing to bunny hop a crack but luckily i was in camera 1.
reaching the end of the path and without the sound of hatchbacks i went "damn sweet where to now?", there was noone behind me, hello? i said, it took me a while but about 200 miles back there was the brightest light i could see, the unmistakable engineered beam of a son deluxe II awkwardly navigating the minefield of sunday walkers, avoiding the puddles and nursing the supple, plush terravails over the land beneath them
it was clear from this point this wasn't going to end well, regret was creeping in for my pal. he's genX tho so unlike a millennial he didn't moan about it he just kind of sucked it up and replaced his thoughts with his happy place (when japanese electrical companies designed products to last and not to be replaced), me being a zoomer just wanted to die.
this process repeated 5x or so, i'd stop wait for them to catch up, we'd have a natter about life, the lfgss interior design thread, the next Japanese made good we were buying etcetc, you know, wanker stuff.
At one point the mud got too much and front brakes had to be unclipped, inhibitions were lowered and what was sold as a quiet gravel spin in the golden hour (3pm) actually turned into another way to depress oneself, we cut it short headed home and it was a great decision tbh, i was just in time to start work on sweet potato curry for tea.
however in the face of all this, i had a great time, the bike is ace and for the the first time in a few years i felt i was on a bike i didn't have to be putting effort into have fun on, look forward to more of it :>