Today's outing was precipited by a dearth of eggs and the desire for something different to the usual utility ride.
Once the caffeine had finally embued me with the impetus to push past the lingering grottyness I was out on the Fuji into the bright "breezyness".
After a steady ascent through the woods I found myself in Boar's Hill, with it's fine view over the city
I recall taking a very similar picture in the same location about seven(!) years ago when I'd just got my Boardman; only for the wind to blow the bike over, damaging the shifter as it hit the deck
Despite today's uncompromising wind I thought the Fuji would be pretty much immune to such a fate given its much greater mass and the fact I thought I'd propped it up pretty sturdily; however this proved not to be the case. Luckily this time the day was saved by my cat-like reactions - catching the bike by the top tube as it fell.
Any semblence of smugness was dispelled by the sobering thought that I'd not have been so lucky had this occured when I was actually taking photos and not stood right next to the bike...
From here it was onward past the scout camp before descending back into the valley and doubling back on myself to an extent to push out towards Cumnor.
Getting chilly in just my base layer from having stood still for a bit, I eventually donned my buff which made things palpably more bearable - if doing nothing to address my streaming eyes and nose.
By the time I was close to the historic source of the precious I'd pretty much had enough - cold from the relentless wind and fatigued from having to constantly shift my weight to tack into the wind and react to the gusts to prevent them from pushing me all over the road.
Quelle surprise, despite allusions on the net that the egg business was still going five years after I last visited when I was living in the city, arriving at the house where I'd previously scored reveled neither eggs nor the shed that once housed them.
I pushed on to the farm itself; heartened by the familiar sight of hundreds of chickens roaming free behind a new set of gates that bore a sign with directions to nip around them to access the "egg shed"; however this turned out to be a cruel sham as for the second time today neither shed nor eggs were discovered.
After leaving increasingly pissed off with proceedings I nipped into the shop at the sprawling Milletts farm. This visit was jinxed from the off as they had zero obvious bike parking so I lashed it to another bit of infrastructre, pulled my buff up over my mouth / nose and headed inside. Being a Saturday it was heaving with people not paying attention along with their screaming kids... I did discover eggs from the farm in question but they weren't particularly cheap and by that point I'd had enough of that environment so had an apple outside and left.
I pushed on in a big loop past Abingdon and back to the city - a decent chunk now at last with a tailwind. Picked up a few bits in the centre then headed home along the tow path; negotiating various "windfalls" along the way and trimming some dangling brambles which earned me a "good man" from one passing chap
About 32 miles - glad I went out but probably more glad to get back and cut off all contact with the outside world; barring that filtered through my broadband connection..
Once the caffeine had finally embued me with the impetus to push past the lingering grottyness I was out on the Fuji into the bright "breezyness".
After a steady ascent through the woods I found myself in Boar's Hill, with it's fine view over the city
I recall taking a very similar picture in the same location about seven(!) years ago when I'd just got my Boardman; only for the wind to blow the bike over, damaging the shifter as it hit the deck
Despite today's uncompromising wind I thought the Fuji would be pretty much immune to such a fate given its much greater mass and the fact I thought I'd propped it up pretty sturdily; however this proved not to be the case. Luckily this time the day was saved by my cat-like reactions - catching the bike by the top tube as it fell.
Any semblence of smugness was dispelled by the sobering thought that I'd not have been so lucky had this occured when I was actually taking photos and not stood right next to the bike...
From here it was onward past the scout camp before descending back into the valley and doubling back on myself to an extent to push out towards Cumnor.
Getting chilly in just my base layer from having stood still for a bit, I eventually donned my buff which made things palpably more bearable - if doing nothing to address my streaming eyes and nose.
By the time I was close to the historic source of the precious I'd pretty much had enough - cold from the relentless wind and fatigued from having to constantly shift my weight to tack into the wind and react to the gusts to prevent them from pushing me all over the road.
Quelle surprise, despite allusions on the net that the egg business was still going five years after I last visited when I was living in the city, arriving at the house where I'd previously scored reveled neither eggs nor the shed that once housed them.
I pushed on to the farm itself; heartened by the familiar sight of hundreds of chickens roaming free behind a new set of gates that bore a sign with directions to nip around them to access the "egg shed"; however this turned out to be a cruel sham as for the second time today neither shed nor eggs were discovered.
After leaving increasingly pissed off with proceedings I nipped into the shop at the sprawling Milletts farm. This visit was jinxed from the off as they had zero obvious bike parking so I lashed it to another bit of infrastructre, pulled my buff up over my mouth / nose and headed inside. Being a Saturday it was heaving with people not paying attention along with their screaming kids... I did discover eggs from the farm in question but they weren't particularly cheap and by that point I'd had enough of that environment so had an apple outside and left.
I pushed on in a big loop past Abingdon and back to the city - a decent chunk now at last with a tailwind. Picked up a few bits in the centre then headed home along the tow path; negotiating various "windfalls" along the way and trimming some dangling brambles which earned me a "good man" from one passing chap
About 32 miles - glad I went out but probably more glad to get back and cut off all contact with the outside world; barring that filtered through my broadband connection..
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Just as well we weren't in a car.
