During the recent cold snap, I popped out to the shops with my wife. She was wrapped up in a coat, whilst I was in my shirt-sleeves. We bumped into a neighbour who, after the usual pleasantries, looked me up and down, pulled
his coat collar up and asked if I was cold. I genuinely didn't feel so and I think the reason is going out riding on days like this. Somewhere during the last six years of cycling I've become less bothered about the muck British weather can throw at me.
I had a couple of hours free (should have allowed for three), and decided to get my February 50km ride in. I was also a bit stressed (having odd moments where my internal monologue mutates into some kind of tourette's gibberish - something I'm sure my subconscious will work out soon and let me know what the damned problem is I'm apparently worried about.
)
When I left Ipswich, it was overcast. By the the time I got to Bucklesham and the natural highs where beginning to kick in, there were a few spots of rain, but nothing to worry about.
By Kirton, it was a drizzle.
By Trimley, it was raining.
By Felixstowe, it was raining hard.
It was around this point I began to consider the wisdom of not yet replacing the mudguards on Patsy #2 The CX. And of attempting this ride, today.
As I left Felixstowe the chaffing begun.
At the time of writing, I have yet to summon up the courage to inspect the damage.
So, to take your minds off that image, here are a couple of pics.
This on the approach to Kirton:-
And this on Felixstowe sea-front. (The old hotel on the hill looking like the older cousin to The Bates Motel.)