Boris Bajic
Guest
I had to get to the next town (15 miles and slightly hilly) on Monday.
As usual, I rode with 'posh' clothes in a backpack for the meeting. Normally, this is a huge hoot along sinuous and smooth roads that I know very well. However...
The roads were wet and seemed to lack adhesion. There was farm mud on some faster descents that made it feel sometimes as though the quill stem had come loose.
The wind was blowing a little and there were occasional very powerful gusts that took me out into the traffic lane further than was helpful.
I was riding through the discomfort of a cracked rib, so my confidence was wobbly and my climbing ability was compromised.
Most of the time, it was raining that horrid, thin rain that hangs in the air and penetrates EVERYTHING. I call it Welsh Liquid Sunshine, but am aware that this phrase might offend.
So... I took the train home from my meeting. I knew I would before I got to the end of my ride.
Middle Age at work here?
Wintophobia?
Common sense?
It was lovely and warm on the train and I had a nice chat with another passenger about bicycles, but I felt somehow like a shirker.
As usual, I rode with 'posh' clothes in a backpack for the meeting. Normally, this is a huge hoot along sinuous and smooth roads that I know very well. However...
The roads were wet and seemed to lack adhesion. There was farm mud on some faster descents that made it feel sometimes as though the quill stem had come loose.
The wind was blowing a little and there were occasional very powerful gusts that took me out into the traffic lane further than was helpful.
I was riding through the discomfort of a cracked rib, so my confidence was wobbly and my climbing ability was compromised.
Most of the time, it was raining that horrid, thin rain that hangs in the air and penetrates EVERYTHING. I call it Welsh Liquid Sunshine, but am aware that this phrase might offend.
So... I took the train home from my meeting. I knew I would before I got to the end of my ride.
Middle Age at work here?
Wintophobia?
Common sense?
It was lovely and warm on the train and I had a nice chat with another passenger about bicycles, but I felt somehow like a shirker.