29 Degrees in London but I Mist Out...

Definitely overdue for another update, so best get on with things.

As ever, any fuzziness in a photo, right click and open it in a new tab.

Well, the weather this year so far is mad. Utterly bonkers. Just one month ago I was riding Fatso in a mini blizzard - snow everywhere, and in generally snow free Cornwall, our second helping of the year. Today, it's like the best of summer outside, (albeit with fewer leaves on the trees). It is a most pleasant 19 degrees, and very welcome it is too. I actually started the week wearing multiple layers and my fleecy hat - indoors, it was that chilly. 

I've even had to perform one of my least favourite tasks, the cutting of the grass, twice in just one week as with wet ground and suddenly warm temperatures it shot up out of the ground at an indecently quick pace. I like the grass to look cared for, but mowing it isn't one of my favourite chores - I'd get it all concreted, paint it green and vacuum it once or twice a year if I could. 

As said, this weather is most welcome, but it came a day late to me on my travels, as we'll see a bit later on, and hence the title of this update.

So, let's catch up on some rides, starting with a litter pick on the 10th.

I'm about to dispose of the old Clattermonger Carrera, but before it goes, I robbed it of the (polished alloy) bar ends and put them on the Voodoo, as I prefer the shape of them to the ones the Voodoo had before. But, the Carrera jobbies being bright silver wouldn't look right with the sexy black of the rest of the controls, so I wrapped them in bar tape. My first go at wrapping and you can tell which one I did first. If this turns out to be a success, and they don't get too scuffed up from being leaned against walls and so on, I will do them again properly with better tape.

A bit of crap I must've missed on a previous pick up this lane.

Picking up crap in the rain may not sound like fun, and it isn't smiley, giggly, wet yourself laughing, fun, but it isn't unenjoyable, and I find it quite relaxing actually, despite all the hopping on and of the bike giving me some spinal grief.

The proceeds of about 30 yards or so along one particular verge. Quite why it should be all cigarette packets in that spot I don't know - a heavy smoker must do a lot of waiting around there, or chucks the packets out of a car window on the same bit of road each day or something. Whatever, I must've picked up about 30 dead packets along there.

I'm gradually getting my litter picking set up sorted now - big arse Bulldog Clips and strong black bin bags are the way to go, all I need is some where to clip the grabby thing while I'm riding along and I'll be sorted (although I doubt I will go that far, I'm quite happy holding it in one hand and riding with the other once the panniers start to fill up).

Two days later, on the 12th, I set off on the Marin once again, for a break the saddle in ride, this time wearing a pair of padded shorts under my usual riding strides for a bit of extra comfort. I'd got these shorts way back and had never actually worn them before, but now I fear they are needed, at least for the time being, as that new saddle breaks in.

I do like Primroses, in fact...

Have another.

Yes, these shots are taken at my beloved Boswiddle Ford, where stopping to take in the ambience, and to upset the local Crow population, is a must.

Well these look annoyingly fuzzy to me, but still.

From the ford I had a little mooch past Ladock Woods (below)

There's a sign saying 'Private - Keep Out' but I never read anything marked private - it's very rude you know. So I nipped in to the entrance and set the tripod up for a fly by selfie.

Just mooching along...

I later hung a left at Trendeal (just after the turning I stopped for the photo above) and headed up the lanes towards Mitchell, then Carland Cross and home.

I did 14 miles on this ride, and my backside only started to give me pain at around the 9 mile mark, but it's still early days yet. The shorts seem alright, but close examination shows the foam padding to be quite thin, so I may invest in a better pair. I'd prefer to be able to ride without such goings on beneath my trousers, and hopefully I'll be able to once the saddle is broken in, but in the meantime it'll be worth spending a few bob if it means I can ride a bit further in comfort.

Wednesday saw glorious weather here, although it included a blustery wind, but I was stuck home so didn't get to enjoy it. I did however make plans to go for a ride the next morning, Thursday the 19th, this time on the Jamis.

Another beautiful day in the making... Or is it?

I couldn't decide what the best angle was for a shot here...

So took another. The sun was doing its best to burn off the early morning mist, and it may well have succeeded, but I was heading towards the notoriously misty North Coast anyway so was unlikely to see it happen.

It was also decidedly chilly to start off with, and I was glad I'd layered up a bit.

Once again though, my legs were giving me some worry - they seem to be aching far too early in a ride, well I say early, they were aching right from the off, which isn't good. Just the usual above the knee aches and the feeling of being knackered and with no power to boot into a hill. I think this is just a lack of riding fitness as it has been a very stop - start year so far for me cycling wise. At my age my fitness seems to disappear after just a few days off the bikes, and this winter just gone hasn't seen me do my usual number of rides nor miles, so hopefully I just need more saddle time.

I wasn't actually riding up this lane (the lane to Ventonleague, just below the A30) but did stick my camera up it from the junction as it looked rather appealing. 

Did I just mention the A30? Oh flipping heck... that blinking road does my head in. I needed to nip across the A30 in a slight zig - zag fashion, turning left, riding along it a few yards before turning right off it again. Given it was about 07.20ish, I thought it might be fairly straightforward, but no...

I'm old enough to remember when this road at this time of the morning would've been deadly quiet, not so these days unfortunately. Crossing the A30 on my rides that take me that way really is becoming a pain in the neck - the flow of traffic is just continuous and you feel really vulnerable if you have to wait in the middle of the road waiting for a gap to turn right. 

Still, I daresay it's just me and some cycling folk probably deal with roads like this on a daily basis, but it ain't my idea of fun I can tell you. Anyway, I did finally make it across the road and turned right again heading for Fiddlers Green.

Whoop! My first sighting of 2018's Bluebells!

After months of winter flatness, the verges and hedges are bursting into life with colour from the flowers and blossom on the trees. 

Friendly roadie (I got a 'Hi' and a smile) heading towards the A30. Good luck with that mate.

I haven't actually said where I was heading yet, so here is my destination...

Yep, Crantock. A little village that I haven't been to in many, many years, and it not being too far I thought it about time I checked it out, having been to the neighbouring village of Holywell Bay a couple of times in recent years.

The small village green in Crantock. Just in shot on the very left is the end of the village Memorial Hall.

Built in 1922 initially to commemorate those lost in the First World War (their names are above the door) it also includes those lost in the Second World War, and their names are listed to the sides of the door.

Now the bus shelter here might be very neat and spacious, but seriously - no ball games? What sort of ball games could one possibly play in there? 

Old bike is a Raleigh Pioneer Trail and looks a goer too - I've no idea if it is someone's biffabout ride, or has been placed there as part of the sort of display. The fitment of the rear mudguard is erm... unusual.

The village green and the sun dial says it is 08.28, so time for coffee!

I made my way down to the beach car park and unlike when on Fatso which treats dunes and sand in general with disdain, I had to get off and push the Jamis up the dune towards the beach. This isn't easy for me but I got there in the end and, as I neared the top, immediately came the sound, then the sight, of the sea. It was just like in a Hollywood film as both emerged before me as I crested the top of the dune (I'd be played by George Clooney, naturally...) and I also copped the full smell of the sea as well.

The sight that greets you having stogged your way up the energy sapping dune from the car park - the Gannel Estuary. The beach is actually some way below here, and again, had I been on Fatso I'd have ridden straight down onto it, but being on the Jamis, that would've been a tad more... exciting shall we say, and even on sand, I'd prefer not to fall off thank you all the same.

A quick panoramic. I decided that instead of going down onto the beach where all the dog walkers were, I'd nip up into the dunes in the top left of this shot and have me some caffeination.

Asda have just started doing their own brand range of instant posh coffees, and judging by this example - the Latte, they are as good as the big name brand (Nescafe). Not sure the instructions are really necessary though...

On Thursday, the very day of this ride, West London hit 29 degrees, the hottest April day since 1949 apparently. I had mist and murk...

But to be fair, the North Coast is often misty (when we get murk inland we often refer to the weather as being a bit coastal, and it's this coast we have in mind). Not only that, but the weather forecast had predicted such murkiness, so it wasn't a let down by any means, and in fact it is quite enjoyable watching the waves rolling gently out of the greyness.

Had it been hot and sunny, no doubt the dunes as well as the beach, would've been busy with folk tramping about, as I discovered once at Holywell Bay (and had my stove knocked over in the process by a nosy dog!).

Latte drunk and stove all packed away (how does sand get into all the places it does so quickly and easily?) I had the gentle but long pull up the hill back into the village and then another look around. It would appear that nearly every other house in the village is a holiday let unfortunately. Now Cornwall needs the tourist trade badly, but it's still a shame when such places are so dead in winter as no one lives in these places much in the off season, while locals wanting to buy their own house have to move somewhere grotty, or go up country. It's the way of things unfortunately, as said, we need the tourist trade, but it comes at a price some times, and of course, it's not a situation unique to Cornwall by any means.

The Lychgate for the Church of Saint Carantoc.

The Coffin Rest and seating for four Pall Bearers set into both walls. The dead geezer would be laid on the rest and the mourners made to wait while someone went to fetch the priest who would then allow the procession to continue. Oddly enough, there's nearly always a pub near these churches, which from experience, would be the first place I'd go looking for the priest... 

St Carantoc's Church looks like a bad cut and paste of several churches lobbed together, a bit of a cut and shut job.

The church is said to boast Norman and English Gothic architecture, whatever, it's all over the place like a mad woman's breakfast and to my eyes, looks a bit of a mess.

I didn't go in to see if the chaos continues within, being a non believer I might get struck down by a bolt of Lightning or something, but instead beat a hasty retreat as the bells started ringing for 10am.

Yes mate, we all feel like that now and then.

I did have a mooch along the lane to nearby West Pentire, but there was little of note to see other than...

The locals enjoying the view of Goose Rock. I said the locals enjoying the view of... oh forget it. Some people would pay a fortune for a view like that, and this lot get it for free and do they care? Look at 'em, couldn't give a monkey's...

From Pentire I made my way back the way I'd come along the fairly boring lanes that characterise the North Coast until reaching a junction for St Newlyn East, and although it would add a few miles to my ride, I opted to go through there and on to Mitchell, to avoid having to cross that darned A30 again, as the Mitchell road passes beneath it.

St Newlyn East.

From there it was straight home really, with no more photos and nothing much to note other than all the flies that have suddenly appeared. I don't know what sort of flies they are, Horse Flies perhaps, but there were gert clouds of the beggars that I kept riding into as I made my way home. I didn't need lunch when I got in, I was full up having swallowed so many. 

Just as I was unloading the panniers on arrival back at home port, the sun broke out and we had a lovely afternoon of unbroken sunshine. But, the lack of sun on my ride didn't put a damper on things at all - bright, warm sunshine is all very nice, but I don't like it too hot when riding, and I was just right temperature wise, and I hadn't needed to smother my face and neck in sun cream either, so all in all, a very enjoyable ride all round.

The better map, with other guff available can be found HERE

This is a long old post, and we're not done yet, as just yesterday, the 20th, and still feeling good health wise, I once again did battle with the Marin's perch and had a pootle about the local lanes. Riding a little and often might be the best way to break in the saddle, rather than going for longer rides that end in considerable bum damage.

Well this makes a change - dry and dusty lanes rather than wet and muddy. Most welcome it all is too, being able to go out for a ride, on or off road, and not have a bike wearing a couple of pounds of clawing mud on my return is a great bonus.

I'm not a Stravanaut, but I do make a note of things like mileage done on every ride from each bike's computer and so on, just out of curiosity really, to see how many miles places are, how many miles each bike has done and so on, and I can tell you that on this ride I did just 8 miles at an average velocity of 6.9 mph! Now that is quality potterage and bimbling that is. It might even be a personal best for low average speeds, litter picking rides excepted.

 Now I'm no expert when it comes to Farm vehicles, but I'm pretty sure that isn't meant to look like that.

I'm also guessing that fire extinguisher wasn't the best buy the farmer has ever made.

The farmland has been quiet recently due to the weather, and only now have the farmers been able to get onto the fields and get cracking with picking or sowing crops, so this hasn't come at a good time at all I suspect (as if there is ever a good time to lose a tractor). 

The farmers around here are pretty good though, and no doubt would've offered help if needed until a replacement was found. 

I think these are Pink Porslane, but whatever they are, they always put on a brilliant display on this particular roadside bank.

Lastly, a stripey view through a hedge.

So that's my lot for now, and it has been a good few days weather wise, and more importantly health wise, allowing me to get out a bit more, and hopefully that will continue.

Well, the forecast warned of thunder storms coming up from the South for us Cornwall dwellers for this afternoon, and so far it has been all quiet, and just another gloriously sunny day. Let's hope there are more to come and this hasn't been summer 2018 on fast forward and next week we'll be straight into Autumn or something daft. Given the bonkers way this year has developed so far, anything could happen quite frankly.

Anyway, wherever you are, I hope the weather has been equally kind - happy cycling!

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Oh My Poor Backside...

As I'm compiling all this on the editor, some of the photos look fuzzy as hell. If they come out like that at your end, right clicking and opening in a new tab will sort the beggars out.

Saturday morning saw a Mudhugger rear mudguard follow me home from my local bike shop, which was duly fitted to the Marin to finish off the additions to the bike. These guards aren't pretty, and certainly spoil the look of the Marin, but they do work really well at keeping crap off the rider, and more importantly, my new Buttbuster saddle. It'll help keep the saddlebag cleaner too.

So, with the Pine Mountain all equipped ready for some action, and having successfully rested my back after the trip into town, I set about planning a ride for Sunday just gone, as the forecast was for a good day at last. 

Where to go though? That is always the issue, but I wanted somewhere a bit scenic where I could plot up and have a coffee from my stove, and somewhere that would give a decent ride.

I settled on going South of Truro to Coombe, a little village on a creek off the River Fal. I've ridden there once before as it happens, on the Voodoo, and it's a nice run, although a tad lumpy geography wise, with some hills to conquer along the way, but that's the nature of the beast and living in Cornwall. Cornish cyclists always say our miles count as double the up country miles due to the extra effort involved in travelling around our county - I don't disagree with them!

Sunday morning dawned an absolute cracker, but chilly as a dead man's nose as I fed the birds in my back garden first thing. I lobbed the Mini Trangia and some snackables in the new saddlebag, added two bottles to the bike - one water, one with some fancy orange flavoured sports drink, and dressed for cold conditions, set off into the gorgeous sunshine.

Having just fitted the new saddle I was fully expecting to be stopping every few yards to make micro adjustments, as is usually the case after disturbing the set up of a bike, but everything, to my surprise, felt bang on. The saddle did feel hard though, but not uncomfortably so, not yet anyway... Hard doesn't automatically mean uncomfortable anyway, I had a BMW motorcycle that on first acquaintance set my backside on fire as the seat felt like straddling a scaffolding plank,but once bum cheeks and saddle got to know each other better, it turned out to be one of the most comfortable perches I've used on a motorbike.

Threading down through the lanes towards Tresillian I stopped at one point in a gateway and listened to a Woodpecker getting busy in some distant tree or other, the first of two I heard during the day. Everywhere was perfectly still, and the sun was getting stronger by the minute too, warming the day nicely.

A lone bunch of Daffs atop the hedge at Trehane.

The main road through Tresillian heading towards Truro does offer some superb views of the Tresillian River, and the verge at this time of year is always lined with a great display of Daffodils. Pity though about the traffic noise otherwise this would be a great spot to linger a while.

At the Truro end of Tresillian, there's a big right hander with a little lane diving off to the left. This lane also leads into Truro and is used by busy commuters as a rat run to avoid the jams on the main road. It is rather narrow though, and heaven help the motorist salmoning against the commuter flow in the morning or evening.

This bridge carries a path, track or road through the Pencalenick estate over the lane, and for some unknown reason, is called Devil's Archway. For those with an active imagination it's certainly a tad scary in the dark through here!

Eventually, that lane drops one down St Clement's Hill and headlong into civilisation and the big city of Truro (big for round here anyway - the shops have even got escalators in 'em and stuff like that - dead posh). But on this route I wasn't dicing with the traffic for more than a couple of hundred yards before turning onto the shared path opposite Lemon Quay, which is also part of NCN Route 3. This runs up the side of Tesco in Truro and along the river's edge, so easy to find.

Arse update - The saddle is starting to make its presence felt.

Sunday morning in Truro and the place is alive with folk dashing to their place of worship. Not the pointy thing in the background... Tesco...

I crossed the road to take this photo, NCN Route 3 follows the path behind me here.

 Stay on the path opposite Tesco and go left following the signs which take you...

...Back beside the river and then up that little ramp ahead on the right.

NCN Route 3 then runs alongside Newham Road on the shared path/pavement, past modern office buildings to the left, and shabby, crappy old higgeldy piggeldy buildings on the right, including Skinner's Brewery and Royal Mail sorting office.

Now this is where things went a bit wrong photographically, as somewhere here I turned the GoPro off for whatever reason, and so didn't capture the difficult to follow bit of the route - doh. Eventually though, the path/pavement comes to an end, near where an old rail over bridge used to be, and more or less opposite a short but steep hill. To stay on Route 3 you need to nip across the road and up that steep hill, and then into a small car park on the left to join the old Newham branch line. Or you can ride along the Newham Road a short distance and turn right up another steep hill and find the path crossing the road more easily perhaps.

At the back of a small car park off the first hill is where Route 3 continues, now using the bed of the old Newham branch line.

On the Newham branch.

I've got a leaky valve on the rear tyre (flipping Schwalbe tubes - had the same with Fatso) and not having a spare valve core I know to be good, I'd pumped up the rear tyre before setting off having found it a tad soft.

Arse update - Pumping up the rear tyre would come to bite me in the backside, literally with that new saddle, as I was feeling the bumps rather more than I'd like...

Halfway along the old line lies this old level crossing. As I was heading south I left the line here and turned left.

Any rider heading south or west of Truro would do well to use the Newham Line as it dodges a gert big hill around the city and also some busy roads. For those going west, it drops you back out into the bedlam of modern life beside County Hall. It might be a slightly longer route, but it's far, far safer and quieter, and just a damned sight more pleasant, than battling the traffic.

After leaving the old line the lane drops down to Calenick and there is a choice if going where I was, of two routes. Go left, the shorter way, or go right, and then left beside the primary school. I chose the latter, as taking that first left would involve climbing an absolute bear of a hill, properly steeporrific it is, scoring a double arrow on the OS Maps. I gave that beggar a swerve then and ground my way up the longer, but less sharp lane to the school, then left past the posh gaffs at Porthkea, then made a right and down to Coombe itself.

Yes there is a lack of photos along this stretch as although making for perfectly nice riding, it isn't particularly photoworthy either.

Arrived in Coombe and the rather odd 'Reading Room.' This looks for all the world like a village hall (but isn't, there's another hall a bit further back) an old school room or even a chapel perhaps. Whatever, the sign says it's a reading room, but I didn't have any books with me, and besides, it was too nice to be indoors.

Those two shots are the view to the right, let's have a look at the view just to the left...

Now we can see why this is not a bad place to spend a little while. Coombe lies off Cowlands Creek, which itself is a sticky inny bit off the River Fal.

Taking the track to the right here and looking back reveals this...

All so very pleasant.

I had a ride along the waterside track for a while, and did decide to set up the stove by a pair of benches but everywhere was a minefield of dog bombs and it all stank of dog poop, so I made my way back again. After my rant the other day about dog poop bags you might think I'm anti dogs, but I'm not, I love dogs, miss my Jack Russell terribly and hope one day to have another hairy arsed mutt companion.

Up the waterside path a bit, but watch where you tread...

Pottering back towards Coombe. No problem with riding or walking along here, it's not at all soft and boggy and as can be seen, cars mooch along here too.

Arse update - it's coffee o'clock... I think I'll take it standing up...

Coffee time.

Beverage of choice on this occasion and very nice too.

Weather update - getting very warm indeed - I'm very over dressed as usual.

While the beaches were no doubt busy, these inlets and creeks are always quiet and peaceful, and it was great standing in the sun, watching folk rowing/sailing and canoeing up the river off to my right. Unusually for me, I had some lunch here too, just some Peanut Butter sandwiches and some sort of snack bar thing, I forget what exactly now, but I normally don't eat anything before, or during, a ride, so this was a bit of an experiment for me, to see how things went. Hopefully, I wouldn't suffer any griping pains of the guts or the need to dash over a hedge quick.

Well I've heard of high fibre diets but I didn't know you had to climb poles to fetch them.

I had a good look at this as I thought it could be either one of those ring things you throw at drowning peeps, or a handy Hemorrhoid emergency comfort cushion. Unfortunately for my backside, it was the former.

Getting back on the bike and starting the 11 miles or so home I found my backside was really starting to hurt on the unforgiving saddle, and also my legs were aching unusually badly as well. Hmmmm.... Oh well, crack on!

Oh erm... this looks nice, I'll just erm... get off the bike and take a snap...

Oh and erm... the same again...

And again. Nothing to do with my sore backside and aching legs at all you understand... uh-uh. I wasn't looking for any excuse to get off the bike at all, no... not me.

Yes mate, you can see the join...

What the heck went on here? The roof matches nicely as obviously the opportunity was taken to renew the main house roof at the same time as that extension thing was being built.

The garage doors are a great choice and would be in keeping with the house too - much better than the usual up and over jobbie. But what's with the paint? I can only think they have made the decision to separate the extension from the house visually so as not to spoil the proportions/look etc, as it is a cracking looking house it has to be said. If it were me though I'd have made sure the new bit blended in with the old, or not done it at all, but it's not my house so none of my business!

This house is stood at the top of that socking great hill I mentioned earlier, as travelling back towards Truro the gradient is far more friendly and makes for some serious gravity hooning.

Flying down that hill sees you back at Calenick once again, just below the Newham line.

Arse and legs update - really struggling now!

Wah ha ha.... nooo... my lovely clean bike!!! Once more I took the Newham line which is only muddy in a couple of places, and went back to Truro.

Riding back around the side of Tesco and a look at the block of flats that are on the site of the old warehouse building that I used to work in when it was an auction room. Quite how they were allowed to scat that building down I don't know, as it had some age to it and the internal timbers and roof were fantastic.

As modern builds go this doesn't look bad at all I must admit, apart from that bare concrete band running just below the walkaway bit, most visible to the left. Quite why they couldn't face it/clad it or just flipping paint it to finish the building off I don't know. Bare concrete is just ugly.

Local legend has it that Seagulls inland means bad weather at sea, or the council tip has just opened...

Maybe it was looking for sailors in the local harbour - as we know - all the nice gulls love a sailor...

Rather than head back from Truro the way I'd come, I opted to nip through town and head towards Idless, which is my preferred route when riding back.

All looking lovely in the Sunday sunshine, although the theme park is a little disappointing...

Now there's an old building I really like - the Old Ale House. I've not been in in decades (back when it was Charlie's Wine Bar in fact, must be back in the 1980s that was) but I love that facade and especially the half frosted arched window. So much nicer than the more modern effort to the left in this shot (where another old building - the Hotel Central, once stood, and again I was surprised, and shocked, to see that demolished). The cafe building also has some age to it but the architect for that wasn't the most imaginative, or just had a tight budget to play with.

Now I could take the left fork, then a right, and have me a mooch through the main street and past the front of the Cathedral, but that's all cobbled... and bumpy... and my backside is... no I'll go right instead...

This narrow street has all the feel of being a one way street, and many folk think it is, but a quick look at the previous photo shows a no left tun 50 yards sign, and indeed, it is open to two way traffic. On a push bike no one says anything, but on my motorbike back in my argumentative youth, I'd often be stopped by someone telling me it was one way, and boy did I take pleasure in correcting them. I was a bit of an aggressive smart arse back then!

Good job it's Sunday and Warren's bakery isn't open, because the whole street would be smelling of hot pasties and that is a smell that just cannot be ignored, and I'd be in there procuring a Warren's Wonder - a pasty the size of my right thigh. Just the thought of it sat here now, typing this, is making me salivate.

Not a bad little corner of town, but I need to get me and my screaming backside home...

I could have ridden the shortest way home - straight along the A39 but that is a narrow and very busy road, and I just plain will not ride along there at all. So instead I made my way through the lanes past Idless and Lanners Barton and Mill to finally make it home after 22 miles, with a very sore backside and surprisingly aching and fading legs. On the upside, my modest intake of food gave me only a little discomfort as I rode home, so that was very encouraging.

I have since adjusted the seat a little - dropping the nose slightly (as my 'boys' were starting to feel some pressure) and I've also lowered it just a tad, but have yet to ride it to test these small changes. I know the saddle will take some breaking in and will be mighty painful during that, but my aching legs were a worry. I can normally do 20 ish miles without leg aches easily, so I'm not sure what's going on there. The saddle might actually have been a smidgen too high, hence me lowering it (the Nidd seat sits higher above the rails than the previous saddle, so I'd lowered it a bit after fitting it, but maybe not quite enough). Mind you, going too low with the saddle will also create issues so maybe some fine tuning will be in order.

Anyway, regardless of the minor agonies imposed on my pert posterior, and me walking like a Cowboy and unable to stop a pig in a passage, I'm looking forward to getting more miles in on the Marin this year - I've just got to get over my desire to keep the darned thing clean that's all!

Handy map of the torture ride on Sunday, but fuller, betterer details can be found HERE

Right, that's the gossip about the Bimbler's bad backside...

Happy cycling!

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