A couple of rides and some fiddling to catch up on.
We'll start at the beginning (when I worked in an Auction room, one of the daft questions people sometimes asked was 'Do you start at lot one or at the beginning?' None of us could figure out how you'd come to ask that question, but ask it a surprising number of folk did).
I spent Saturday night wondering where the sun had gone, then it dawned on me...
Ahem, moving on swiftly, Sunday morning wasn't looking as bad as weather girl Holly the Brolly had warned it might be. The forecast told of imminent gales and rain that'd strip paint from outhouse walls and the girders of bridges such would be the ferocity of the showers that were coming our way. But on gaining the vertical and peering out of the window, it looked alright out, good enough for a chunter about, but having been caught in the mother and father of rain showers recently, I wasn't going to take any chances, so donned waterproofs this time, and set sail for Ladock Woods.
Velo du Jour was Fatso once again.
A little dash of colour on an otherwise rather dull looking Sunday.
Risk of skid eh? Worr yeah! Bring it on! The lane twixt Boswiddle and the Ladock Road has finally been resurfaced. It didn't need it, but resurfaced it has been.
Even going at maximum chooch, I couldn't get the bike to ping gravel like the sign shows. Must try harder next time.
The only noise to be heard was the delightful crackle of the tyres on the chippings and the 'swoosh - swoosh, swoosh - swoosh' of my over trousers as I made my way along dry roads, feeling just a little over dressed, but the forecast had predicted much turbulence and wetness, so we'd see, I might have the last laugh yet.
Negotiating the steep downhill to Boswiddle Ford on the loose chippings was a buttock clenching affair, my saddle had a newly formed ridge up the middle when I reached the bottom, but a big grin broke out across my face as I turned the last bend and saw the water was running across the road again for the first time since very early spring. This was due to some hefty showers during the day before no doubt, and I daresay the level will have receded again now.
Hmmmm... looks fuzzy to me...
Ladock Woods are owned by the Duchy of Cornwall, and I'm not entirely sure what they feel about bike riding in there. There's nothing to say you can ride a bike in the woods, but nothing to say you can't. So I tend to go in on a Sunday for my potters about, 'cos if the forestry boys aren't working, nobody can tell me to beggar off out of it.
The woods are home to all sorts of Fungi, this tiddler being a Puffball I think. Once I'd spotted this one, I started seeing more and more of them. Only small and easily missed, but they were everywhere in this part of the wood.
More of these weird shapes have appeared since my last visit. Lots of these 'sculptures' for want of a better word, are dotted about and when you catch a glimpse of one out of the corner of your eye they can make you jump in a "What the chuff is that?" kind of way. There's a lot of forestry work going on at the moment, plenty of felling and clearing going on, so I suspect the forestry workers are the ones decorating the area with these striking bits of old tree. I hope they're left there too, but no doubt some clipboard carrying Health and Safety type will worry about them falling over and injuring someone or something, seeing as the public are allowed in the woods.
Most of the wood was surprisingly navigable and free of claggy gloop, but I did find the occasional bog blocking my way. Blocking is the right word too, as I bottled out on this occasion and took another, less sloppy looking, path.
That was it photo wise, I made my home again with bike and body refreshingly free of mud, but also wetter through sweat than through the light drizzle that I encountered on leaving the woods. So much for the forecast then, I needn't have bothered with waterproofs after all. So I made it home without meteorological molestation, to have a hot shower followed by Chicken Noodle soup in front of a Columbo repeat on the telly. Lovely.
Right, we're almost up to date now, just yesterday's doings and we're there.
I was feeling unusually, but pleasingly, fit yesterday, both mentally and physically. Every now and then I wake up and instantly feel my back is moving more freely and without pain and yesterday was such an occasion. I don't know why or what happens during the night to randomly free it all up, but it is a fantastic feeling when it happens, even if the range of movement is still limited (such as how far I can look up or side to side and so on).
So a good day was in prospect and wanting to make the most of it, I planned to make it a productive one.
First item on the agenda was a quick ride of course, but on this occasion I was going to throw caution to the wind, and ride my usual Tregassow Loop, the other way around. Oh yes, instead of my usual anti clockwise course, yesterday I left the way I normally arrive and set about a clockwise circumnavigation. I know how to live life on the edge alright, proper dare devil me.
Heading out of the village the way I normally come in. This used to be a main road I'm about to join - the A39. Back in the day you could've leaned out the upstairs window of one of those cottages, stuck your tongue out, and licked a stripe up the side of a passing truck. Thankfully the main road has been realigned so it by-passes the village now.
That's the entrance to a new build estate on the left. As is often the case with these affairs, the entrance doesn't look too bad. The houses well presented and have space around them. Go into the estate though and you find they're all crammed in a lot tighter. At least some of them, including this one on the corner, are reasonably in keeping with the location and not just universal red brick anonohouses.
Nice day for a bimble.
Random shot in the lanes.
T'was nothing to do with me, that gate was on the ground when I got there, honest.
Oh no... I've been and gone and joined the ranks of the Selfie Stick Dicks, and taken a photo of my manly mush as I was chooching along. I hate having my photo taken, especially up so close, but something weird came over me, and before I knew it, I was using the selfie stick as it was intended rather than my usual practice of dangling it down by the wheels or something.
Obviously I need to repent this considerable sin, so shall repeatedly beat myself on the bum with a rolled up copy of Cycling Weekly to atone myself.
A fuzzy looking Five Turnings junction. The fifth direction a just landed parachutist (or Alien visitor) could take, is just out of shot on the left.
A mucky Marin in Tregassow Lane.
Back at Bimble Towers and time for a bit of TLC.
Fuzziness not just water on the lens, but from Google's upload/transfer process somewhere. Well, it's fuzzy on my screen anyway.
I know a lot of folk say never to use a pressure washer because bad things will happen, and your bike will be killed to death, many times over, but they are fine when used with just a little amount of thought and care, and make light work of bike cleaning.
Hoi mate! You missed a bit! Not hard to spot who forgot to wash under the front mudguard...
Both the Marin and Fatso got washed, but the Fatty was lined up for a bit more attention. Firstly, I bunged on the new chain I bought last week, a job made so easy by the quick link, and by using a cable tie looped through a couple of links near the join, to pull the two halves together against the spring of the rear derailleur and put some slack into the ends to be joined.
The wheels were off because I wanted to swap the tyres over front to back. The rear one was starting to look a bit worn, while the front was still looking peachy (it's the immense wattage I put through the pedals and into the rear wheel clearly...). Getting the tyres on and off is an absolute doddle, no levers required at all. The hardest part though is getting the buggas seated properly on the rims - a well known issue with the On One Floaters.
Why is Fatso there upside down when I clearly have a maintenance stand? The front wheel is fine, but for the life of me, I just cannot get the back wheel in place when the bike is in the stand. I get in a right kerschmuckle. Upside down though, a little lift of the jockey wheel, a deft flick of the rear hoop and boom! Straight in she goes.
I also fitted 26 x 4.0 Schwalbe inner tubes, replacing the 26 x 3.0 tubes that On One fit, as I reckoned they'd fill out the tyre more, and seat that bead around the rim better. I was partly right, as seating was a lot easier than in the past, which involved lots of deflating to try again, and messing about with all sorts of slippery fluids on the rims. This time it went a lot better, but on each tyre there is still one area where the bead line disappears behind the rim. These tyres are great for riding with, but they are an almighty pain in the posterior to get seated. I will drop some air out of them (currently over inflated at 30 psi each to seat them) and see how it rides. If they feel ok and I'm not bobbing up and down like a clown with egg shaped wheels, I'll leave 'em as is, life is too short for beggaring about trying to seat the darned tyres!
But still, I'd had a ride, washed two of the steeds, and done a couple of jobs on Fatso that needed doing, so it was a satisfying day bike wise.
Now both those two are all clean again and sitting very prettily in my living room, I won't want to take them out and get them all gribbly again... Oh well, the Voodoo needs a ride anyway, and the Jamis hasn't seen combat in weeks...