Saturday morning. Lou was on-call and had been called in, so we couldn't really make plans and I needed to do something to shake off the post alcohol fug. A quick change into cycling clothes, fill the waterbottle, grab my winter gloves (a welcome present of my mother-in-law) and out.
Bloody 'ell it was cold. I think it was the first properly cold day this year. I clicked up a couple gears and tried to get warm. As I cycled down Brooklands Road I realised I didn't have a clue where I was going. I usually decide on a destination before I set off and work may way over to it. It must be because I rushed myself out. I turned left towards Wythenshawe instead of my customary right towards Hale. I thought I'd do a quick ride upto Wilmslow through Heald Green and Handforth. I'm not that familiar with Wythenshawe as I've never had much cause to go there. It was strangely quiet and the bright, crisp winter morning made everything seem pleasant. I'd never really considered how much green and open space there is. Apparently there are 12 parks in Wythenshawe alone(zzzzzz).
Moving on and through Heald Green. As I got to the lights at Wilmslow Road I saw a Manchester Wheeler pushing his bike. I stopped and saw that he had a puncture. He said that he'd only come out with one tube and had just suffered another puncture. I handed over my spare tube and rode towards Handforth. A couple of hundred metres on it occurred to me that I now had no spare tube, no puncture repair kit and no cash on me to buy another tube. Balls. I'd have to hope that good karma was with me for aiding the stricken cyclist.
Wilmslow came and went, a quick ogle in the window of Royles Cycles at the Alderley roundabout. £13,000.00 for a bike! Now I was on the Knutsford Road. Why Knutsford again? I could head off through the worlds largest village that is Mobberley but then I'd end up by the Airport and only 5 or so miles from home and I wasn't ready to head home just yet. My legs only seem to 'switch on' after 10 miles, so I was only just starting to enjoy it. On past the turnoff for the Frozen Mop (excellent food there by the way) and then a quick down and short up to the edge of Knutsford. The usual path past the lower shops and into Tatton Park. I really need to stop coming here.It's at least once a week now. Rosthern exit and then blast through to Ashley and then Hale. My gears had started to chatter and weren't shifting crisply so I thought I'd stop in at the shop in Ashton Village. Always a warm* welcome there. A bit of a chat and gears repaired I went home. My lovely wife was back from her callout so popped out for lunch.
31.81 miles
*by warm, I mean abusive and offensive
Sunday 15th
With Lou still on call (to be there) I had arranged to go the the Bike Jumble at the Manchester Velodrome. If you think that it would be full of sad anorak types talking about obscure bike parts by part number...you'd be right! There was also a load of bargains and some really cool bits and bobs. Unless you don't like obsessing about bikes. In which case it was boring, full of odd people and smelt funny. You know, a bit like the inside of your Grans' cupboards (not a euphemism).
The rest of the day escaped me, late lunch in the Bean and Brush and then a nice walk around Walton Park (See I do non-bike related stuff).
I decided to do an hour on the turbo. Just to clarify. The turbo-trainer is the thing I dislike doing most. Cycling should be outside in fresh air and with a destination. It should not be in your living room watching Final Destination 5 or somesuch trite potboiler.
20 miles red and sweaty and a large pool of sweat gathering on the floor.
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