An unexpected 41.4 miles up and over the beloved Mendips via Cheddar Gorge. The in-laws are down so the boy was sorted, the rain forecast said 'crap' so I decided to work but come the 'affy work said, there ain't none, on yer' bike. And I gladly obliged.
It's been a crap few days though for various reasons and I should have known better; first off a very un-civic Honda driver decides to cut me up at the bottom of my hill. There's always confusion at this place for retards who don't understand that when there's a line in the road whether it's physically straight on (or not) you're the one who has to indicate and he didn't, the stupid old twat. I have his number plate and I had the good caution to hear his pointless acceleration to gain that vital few seconds behind me and the danger was averted. If I do see him again, I'll follow him like I did today for a while as he pondered in his mirror what action I would take.
The wind is pretty rough and due the 'crap few days' above my only bib tights are in the wash and so I departed with bare legs, stubbly too, so stubbly they look like a pig's saddle at the moment, not being one to continue the ritual throughout the bib tight months. There'll be nobody out anyway, and I wasn't wrong. Come Cheddar Gorge I'm invigorated! I get to the top at a reasonable cadence and pile on the speed as is the custom and head past the firing range and hang a right. I continue about a hundred yards but the crosswind is so ridiculous I nearly end up in the gutter. I always loop this circuit and come back round again on a road that runs parallel taking me back down the Gorge and I know that if it's strong enough to blow me into the gutter this side, then the other side it's definitely strong enough to blow me into the road instead. For the first time in a long time then, what I figure was about 40 mph plus winds turned me back.
I did climb Shipham Hill on the way back though and that wasn't on the agenda (I did the other side on the way to the Gorge) and then the rain starts. Only a little trinkle as it happens but enough to reinvigorate the desire to get home and shower (which probably isn't fixed due the plumbing nightmares of the preceding days).
It is sorted though and my son smiles a greeting as I walk rather wet through the door. My daughter, who has just started school on the other hand, prefers to carry on watching fairies on Disney Junior.
I rubbed the bike down and got in the shower looking forward to the pint of cider I now hold proudly in my hand.
