Grumpy Saturday, Energised Sunday.

Sometimes a bit of mechanical fiddling and fettling is very satisfying – parts are dismantled, cleaned/ greased/replaced, and the whole lot put back together without trauma. A job well done. Sometimes though, the simplest job goes a bit awry and the language becomes rather industrial. The latter was the case on Saturday, as with a freshly washed Fatso sat in my living room, I finally got around to swapping the inner tube in the rear wheel. I've got problems seating the rear tyre properly, with the result being a slightly egg shaped ride. The tubes fitted are 26 x 2.50/2.70, so I decided to bung in one of the spares I carry, which is 26 x 4.0 which might do a better job of filling the tyre's carcass when over inflating to seat the bead.

Fatbike tyres come off and back on again very easily indeed, with no levers required, which is just as well as true to form, I lobbed the tyre on the wrong way round at first (logos go on the drive side of the wheel). I always manage that somehow when fitting tyres that are directional. But anyway, one slapped forehead later and with the new tube in, the tyre refitted, and the bead nicely lubed with soapy water, I returned to the upside down Fatso and replaced the back wheel. I do have a maintenance stand, and jolly good it is too, but I can never, ever, refit a rear wheel with the bike upright. Not me, not ever, no. I don't know why, but I always get in a right tangle, but with the bike upside down it's straight in. Weird.

So with the back wheel back in, all that was left was to get busy with my trusty Michelin foot pump. This is where things went wrong. Barely a sparrow's sneeze had entered the tube when the hose on the pump split. No problem as it happens, as I had some brand new fuel hose the exact same size. Repairs will take but a minute. Erm... no. The original hose was clamped to the male connector coming out of the pump with some crimped metal sleeve affair that made removal difficult. In fact, in trying to release the grip of the crimping, the male nipple thing broke off... Oh.... fiddlesticks. All attempts to fit the new tube by clamping onto the remaining stub failed, so the foot pump was out of action and I was wondering if my swear box takes PayPal.

I could just pump the tyre up with the bicycle pump I carry with me of course, but Fatbike tubes take some filling given their large capacity, and I need to over inflate to get the tyre to seat. That would be hard work with a hand pump for sure, so I thought beggar it, it can wait until I get a new pump.

So Fatso was temporarily disabled, but I did put him in the maintenance stand and spent the evening giving him a coat of wax, which isn't a bad way to spend a Saturday evening, certainly better than watching the tripe on the telly.

Saturday night, trying to get to sleep was a beggar, as it is frequently. My mind just would not stop churning and blowing all sorts of random things up out of all proportion. I must've got off to sleep at some point though, as I woke up again... to daylight too... so I checked the time... 10.45?! Woo that's not good! I hate sleeping late these days (unlike when I was a teenager when I developed lie ins into an art form). My head was heavy as I got up, as it always is when I get too much sleep, and coffee was utterly failing to boot me up, as I sat slumped in my chair feeling more than a bit crappy and befuddled.

Outside though, it was obviously a truly beautiful day. Hmmmm... A quick look online for updates at my usual regular biking sites was all it took to get me going – All those photos of people riding and hooning about on bikes - I needed to go for a ride and to mess around taking photos, the two things that give me most pleasure these days, to rid me of my lethargy and frustrations.

With Fatso out of action I was aboard the Voodoo as I headed off along my usual loop, and was soon splashing through the floods on Tregassow Lane. These had receded a fair bit when I rode along here on Thursday, but a Friday full of rain has seen the lane once again resembling a pop up canal, forcing walkers into an adjacent field to get around it. It has come to something when Sunday strollers take to a gloopy field rather than tarmac thanks to bad weather.

 A beautiful day for a bimble about.

Rural textures.

Being outside was every bit as good as the view out of my windows had promised – a warming sun and what wind there was, barely warranted the description. It was coming from the North East though, so the light breeze was a chilly one, but no matter, the air was fresh, the sun was shining, and I had wheels turning beneath me. The fug of a late start was soon being rapidly banished, being replaced with bracing upliftment (I thought I'd just made that word up, but a quick bit of Googlery finds it is a real word oddly enough, as it sounds all wrong).

The sunshine felt positively spring like, but the bare trees still said winter.

On I bimbled, stopping frequently to check out a photo opportunity, or to just listen, or look, at whatever was catching my attention. The ugly hill that used to cause me so much grief in the past – The Col de Tregassow, now holds no fear at all as my fitness has improved, along with my technique for plugging on. I used to look despairingly at the distant summit with my legs ablaze and lungs straining to cope with effort. Now, with improved engine and pistons able to easily make it to the top without bailing out, it just left the mental approach to be sorted. So now instead of looking up at how much bad ass hill I've still got to climb, I just glance up at the start to make sure the road ahead is clear, and then focus on the front tyre, and keeping it turning away from me. In no time at all the hill has been conquered. Slowly maybe, but that'll do for me.

Bicycle Bimbling bliss.

That really though, was the only time I was concentrating on the actual riding, or the bike itself. The rest of the ride I was just enjoying my surroundings, cresting smaller hills without even noticing them, and instead just pottering along listening to the rhythmic swishing of my trousers and the drone of a light aircraft overhead, while gawping at the rural views burnished by the sunshine. On days like this, on roads like this, I feel I could happily ride all day if I was able.

But other matters were unfortunately now pressing, and so I had to return home after a modest few miles, but it will go down as one of the best rides I've had for tranquil refreshment and enjoyment.

Only a brief ride, but they're all good aren't they. Full map HERE