You know you’re going well when you come to a hill and the cyclist you’ve been slowly catching struggles out of the saddle as you spin past still seated. Then a mile down the road you make a cursory glance backwards to survey the scene and there he is: a hi-vis spec in the distance. Of course it’s all relative, but it’s very reassuring in these headwinds that cyclists have been treated to this summer. If my Physics is accurate then the power required to maintain a given forward velocity into an introduced headwind is proportional to the square of the force produced by the wind… so although a lot of my rides are in largely flat terrain in Yorkshire and Humberside, the inevitable headwinds do go towards making up for the lack of hills!
I headed out towards Cawood, Ryther and Ulleskelf on Friday and made my way back through Towton and Saxton. Ferocious headwinds made sure I had a good workout, but it was nice to have a tailwind for a few miles and drafting a combine harvester at 25mph for a mile or so also helped.
Saturday wasn’t quite as athletic. I rolled out of bed at 10am, ate some Weetabix and then drove to Altrincham. I did shower and dress in between the healthy breakfast and getting on the M62 – driving naked and with bed-head would be a social faux pas. That afternoon and evening consisted mainly of Saturday football, bizarre strangers and strong Belgian beers. It must be evident to strangers that I'm very approachable – whenever we’re out as a group and someone collars us, it’s always me who ends up fielding the press conference and making the small talk. I don’t actually mind this, but it was annoying on Saturday when the lady who befriended us (because Andrew looks like Morrissey, apparently!) thought I was taking the piss out of her when really I was just trying to be pleasant as is my nature. I was a little upset that I’d upset her and it played on my mind for a while… but it’s water under the bridge now and looking back; it was slightly booze-fuelled.
And that brings me to the Belgian bar we spent a large chunk of the night in. Table service, dozens of beers to choose from and a pretty waitress… what’s not to like? Well Rob didn’t like his second drink and likened it to Dettol. I wish I could recall the name to ward you all away. I stuck to ‘Orval’, a 6.2% light brew… all the 10% proof offerings were tempting, but for once I remembered that I had to make it through the rest of the evening AND drive home the next morning. A good night was had by all and there were one or two revelations, which I am not at liberty to divulge.
Facebook gets a bad press from a lot of people. I use it regularly and enjoy reading friends’ status updates and looking at photographs of their travels and adventures, but it really is the all-seeing eye and that can be dangerous – the “I’ve nothing to hide” argument is a weak one and we all know it. Last week I ended up chatting to an old friend from a few years ago at work when we were based at The Old Brewery offices. We’d been connected on the book of faces for a short while, but hadn’t really been in touch. Anyway that’s all changed for the better and it turns out we have more in common than we ever realised back in the day… it’s been a tough few months, but this little re-acquaintance has helped to cheer me up. :-)
Thanks for reading!
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