Tell us about your weekend ride

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  • I'm still coming to grips with not having to find a campsite or having Rosie attached to the back of my bike :/

  • Does Rosie miss the back of your head as much?

  • I have broadly coped with the absence of back of head, but it took me a while to remember how to steer.

    I think doing 130 miles on the last day, ending up at the pub and then getting into work for 8am the next day helped in that there was no time to think about it. I've just had ongoing minor distress ever since.

  • http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=1&doc_id=11240&v=53

    Really enjoying this. Cheers. And hats off to the pair of you!

  • Tour looked fantastic guys. Planning something similar next year. Mind if I borrow your route?

    Although you've now got me searching for tandems!

  • Don't take the route. We learnt that a route spoiled the ride. Pick towns and use street signs. If the course matches your aims, though, we/I/Rosie would happily throw some names at you of places we liked going through on the way. Off the top off my head, Mouliherne and Richelieu were lovely :)
    Also, I just wrote up our Plymouth to Budleigh leg. It's really long, and there's an accompanying video which vimeo is currently converting.

  • TdT Phase Two

    After two weeks of riding on the wrong (right) side of the road, conversing in tongues unknown and having to make do with glorious weather, a return to England had a lot to live up to. The buffer between Spain and England was a Brittany ferry whose bar staff were primarily French and passengers primarily awful.

    Throughout the holiday we had played a game of overtaking bingo (as well as roadkill bingo, and its variation 'roadkill or tree', the details of which shall be revealed at another time) where the nationality of the car overtaking us was guessed before we could see the number plate, most frequently judged by amount of space we were given. The English were easiest to call by dint of the fact that we could usually graze wingmirrors with our elbows. I felt we were being reunited with many of these friends as we consumed our Haribo and Orangina, watching Spain shrink and recede into the evening gloom.

    The ferry was headed to Plymouth, and its slow approach gave us ample time to drink the place in, and then spit some of it back out before the taste spoilt things. Not unpleasant itself, but it felt lacking compared to other seaside towns we had ridden through during the previous week. Larger, maybe grander, but also more squalid than the shambolic sprawl of your small Spanish fishing port. The day's mileage was to be manageable, a short hop to Budleigh Salterton would clock us 55 miles or so. Even after two weeks of this lark, we still neglected to consider elevation profiles, and although we knew that we had decided to eschew the no-doubt manageable A38 Exeter Expressway for the wonders of Dartmoor I was not alarmed. A good night's rest in a minibunk in the bowels of a slowly-chugging leviathan prepares one for all.

    Plymouth is at sea level. Dartmoor is not. Looking back through the logs of the trip, I was disappointed to see that despite scaling mountains and having countries shift beneath us, Strava reported that our longest uninterrupted climb was the road that lead us from Plymouth up to Princetown* (about half way across Dartmoor). But this disappointment only niggles, silenced by the beauty of the view as we ascended. I have dabbled in Dartmoor before, but never made much progress across it. Nibbling off corners and scaling a few steep slopes for flavour, yes, but the periphery is a different beast to the expanse experienced along the higher roads.

    This uninterrupted view of the world below us, all around us, is not without its problems. We had left Plymouth in sunshine, and our direction of travel took us towards, for the most part, scattered patches of blue. We were optimistic at getting to Budleigh without having to wring our socks out. Naivety. Wending our way round this and that our course slowly shifted until instead of facing blue we were facing a grey haze under a blackened sky. The fates, no doubt rubbing their hands with glee, showered us for the first time of many as we ascended our third, maybe fourth, 15% of the day. We were unimpressed.

    After a fortnight of riding I thought I'd got the measure of the tandem, but descending in the wet with luggage+stoker was something else. I'm used to having brake performance impaired on a road bike, but being physically unable to stop while attempting to twist your way to the bottom of a steep dip without any casualities I did not like. The more it continued, the more stressful I found it.

    A pair of brake blocks, zero casualities and one alcohol-free apple flavoured san miguel later the sun came out and life was good again. Due to a rotated signpost we took a wrong turn down a 20%er in Moretonhampstead and had to climb back up it which was unpleasant, but from there to Exeter we encountered smiling roadies who shouted encouragements as they blitzed by in the opposite direction, a great mental lift, much needed as a lack of food was starting to take its toll.

    Bonking on a tandem is a special thing - physically the same as bonking solo, but psychologically a nastier creature. On your own, on your own bike, as your body shuts down around you, you only have yourself to blame. The inner voices snap at you and chastise you. Hungover? Idiot, this is the price you pay. Didn't eat enough, did you? Why not? Come on, force that leg round. Suck it up, push it out, keep on.
    On a tandem, loaded, these demons huddle around you and whisper bad things. Why is it suddenly so hard? It's because you're carrying too much. You're still pedalling but you're not going anywhere are you? Blame the stoker. Look. Go on. They could blatantly push harder. It's all weighing you down, holding you back. It could be so easy if it was just you on your own.

    Horrible voices, and by Exeter I was losing in my efforts to silence them. We were navigationally confused (after so long in empty places, both on the continent and during the UK leg, I found succesfully negotiating built-up areas incredibly stressful, amplified by the difficulty of u-turning a tandem, sets of traffic lights or randomly stopping and starting while figuring out a direction). The familiarity of the flat Sustrans run that marked the last miles to Budleigh helped bring me back from the edge, but the voices were never far away, and as the inevitable final lumps came I snapped, which I'm still ashamed of. Two miles later we were at Rosie's parents with a cup of tea and it felt like everything had been easy.

    Dartmoor in the rain on Vimeo


    Next, The Exmouth Exodus: Out, Back and Onwards - 48 hours of hell 'fun'

    *despite being fully loaded and generally worn, we managed to rank 10th for this 13 mile uphill segment /stravajunkie

  • You write very well youz twoz!

  • this (or at least, documentation of this trip) continues in a far less articulate fashion here:
    http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=1&doc_id=11240&v=53

    I'd pull a muscle just looking at this terrifying sight. If ever a bike was committed to the cause.

    I could handle some of that though.

    Poor frites, no? Look like bloody McCain oven chips. Kronenbourg Blanc is particularly fine though, and could once be had at Wetherspoons on Holborn - a trip which wouldn't have called for a blog, so just as well they stopped serving it.

    Whole trip looks just the sort of thing most would love to do, but few actually get around to. Must ensure I'm not one of those, but I don't want the rear 'arse' seat.

  • I ventured out yesterday for my final ride in the Wales/England borders before returning to the smoke this Friday. I decided to head out to the Stiperstones and Long Mynd for the first time. After cycling on the Wales side of the border on most of my visits here I had thought the ups on the England side would be less savage. Wrong! The first proper climb of the day had some over 20% gradient sections that quickly had me thinking of taking photos, eating some food, having a piss, anything to avoid the relentless grind.

    It was worthwhile though as at the top of the Stipertones I was rewarded with the first great descent of the day, only marred slightly by the cattle grids which give me the fear every time. At this point I lost my written on a post-it directions and I was off the side of the OS map I had so I followed signs for Church Stretton where I knew the Long Mynd started. As it happens the route to CS was over the Long Mynd so I got to descend it rather than climb it. I declined the chance to turn around and climb that beast concluding that going down is a much better, I know I’m right on that. It has instantly catapulted into my favourite descents ever list, and I was buzzing for ages afterwards, which was handy as what followed was a horrendously busy stint along the A49 towards Shrewsbury when I appeared back on my OS map and could disappear into the lanes once more. At this point I pulled into a field for a beer and food break and within 2 minutes Farmer Giles arrived in his tractor and started spreading slurry, ensuring the malt loaf was accompanied by a strange sinus tang that I would’nt recommend.

    I am slowly getting a nice collection of downhill clips that one day, when I can afford a half decent puter and a slither of 21st century technical know-how I will put to music and dub on a half decent commentary, instead of my nonsensical ramblings and Clarkson-esque declarations of ‘what a road!’….WAC more like. Of course these will be of interest just to me, but on the off-chance anyone likes watching clips with shit sound but of hills in Shropshire/Powys area that are begging to be cycled down, then feck me this is your lucky day!

    Sheep dodging on a roller coaster road, both best on HD settings but a bit longer to buffer up (sure that’s not the right term)

    cycle descent stiperstones.MP4 - YouTube

    And my 1st but definitely not last descent of the Long Mynd. I thought I was at the top when I started filming but was’nt so the real downhill bit starts at 2mins 20sec, its sure to make you want to go and cycle down it, and quite likely put you off cycling up it!

    long mynd cycle descent.MP4 - YouTube

    Oh and I'm still working my way through the tandem reports, amazing effort. And props, reps or whatever you call it for Wrongcogs Ditchling effort, I chuckled most of my tea from my cup that day. Defo my favourite-ist thread on the forum.

  • Don't take the route. We learnt that a route spoiled the ride. Pick towns and use street signs. If the course matches your aims, though, we/I/Rosie would happily throw some names at you of places we liked going through on the way. Off the top off my head, Mouliherne and Richelieu were lovely :)
    Also, I just wrote up our Plymouth to Budleigh leg. It's really long, and there's an accompanying video which vimeo is currently converting.

    Thanks for the tips. I'll aim for towns that look interesting.

    How did you guys keep the Garmin charged the whole time?

  • We took two garmins and a battery block thing. We got two days out of each garmin, same again from the battery charger, then charged everything up in a hotel on day 7.

  • Hahaha back on the road, 60 ish miles country Lulworth circuit of old.
    Beach front spin also which is now open for.bikes again-yes result.
    Can confirm 2months off saddle garuntees sore ass, but only little less aerobic power.
    God it felt good.though top company and beautiiful day out.
    No more.buses ever, ever, ever.
    Bike power for the rest of time.

  • Nice one MF. The road welcomes you home!

  • Ahhhh...... lovely post j.m.f... Zinc and castor oil will sort you out. Enjoy.. Be grateful you're not on the South Circular.

  • My mother wanted some help clearing the larger furniture from my late grandparents house down in Lyndhurst, so Friday night saw me heading down the M3 in a battered old transit.

    It was riding high on it's springs as all that was in the back was my bike and some old blankets.

    I'd decided that I'd get out for some quick miles on the road bike as the forecast said it'd be sunny at the start of the weekend.

    Saturday morning arrived slightly overcast but no wind to speak of as I headed out at around quarter past nine.

    This is a figure 8 route that I originally "found" on Garmin Connect when I was at my parents over Christmas.

    http://app.strava.com/rides/20560368

    It's become probably my favourite route- it's got a bit of everything, from short brutal climbs to beautiful sweeping descents, racing from the base of scenic river valleys up to the ridgeline and back.

    This time out there were a lot of other cyclists- lots of cheery shouts of "Morning!" were exchanged.

    I decided about 15 minutes in (when I stopped to take my gilet off) that I fancied pushing on a bit, and managed to up my average speed a little.

    Still a long way to go until I hit my target of a 20mph average on this route though.

  • http://www.strava.com/runs/20462011

    A whole heap of muddy fun. Next weeks end to end is going to be fun. I hope the wind changes direction.

  • I'd like to thank the drivers of Essex for treating us with respect and caution this morning as we did a quick TNRC loop (e4 ecstasy).

  • This afternoon I decided I'd had enough of sitting about in the house and went for a ride, towards Box Hill (I planned to actually go to Box Hill but it started raining when I got near and I thought fuck it and didn't bother).

    Highlight was stopping near the traveller camp south of Carshalton and having a chat with a boy who asked me why my pedals look so weird and whether I could do a wheelie. He asked me where my husband was and was horrified to find out that I am 28 and NOT MARRIED.

    Lowlight was alternating pain/pins and needles in my right hand (now spreading up my arm), I had to stop a couple of times to wait for the feeling to come back. During one of these stops I noticed that I could see really weird shapes around passing cars, and it took a little while to realise that I was hallucinating. By the time I got back to London I was having a bit of an issue as I couldn't tell which cars were parked and which were moving. It was annoying as I thought I'd eaten and could avoid this, but when I thought about it, I realised I hadn't had a proper meal since friday. If my housemate doesn't come home soon I'm going to become completely feral.

    All in all, a slightly frustrating ride, particularly as I got lost due to not reading road signs properly. Oh, and I got called a cunt by a driver, which I always appreciate. On the other hand, I got a very enthusiastic thumbs up from a cyclist going the other way, and it was nice to be out and about. Maybe next weekend will be better...

  • I'd like to thank the drivers of Essex for treating us with respect and caution this morning as we did a quick TNRC loop (e4 ecstasy).

    word!

  • Did around 42 miles today - without stopping and without a drink or any food with me. Silly boy!

    Strava stopped working half way through though so had to le google map it. Took about 2 hours and 5 minutes which isn't too bad (for me) I guess for fixed at 74.48 GI. The time gives me an average speed of around 19 miles an hour so I am pretty pleased with that too.

    Nice quiet roads today also!


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  • Back into track.
    Back in black.
    (sorry)
    Worked out some 200m times from the group of about 10 of us,
    We did matched sprints after, good fun trackstanding and tactical riding,
    Didn't rate my form but happy to enjoy proper coached session.
    And what sort of weather is it? Jesus welcome to global warming folks.

  • Strava stopped working half way through though so had to le google map it. Took about 2 hours and 5 minutes which isn't too bad (for me)

    You definitely need to improve your skill with Google maps--that's way too long to take for entering a ride route. :)

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Tell us about your weekend ride

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