Last edited:
Your ride today....
- Thread starter gbb
- Start date
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Reynard
Guru
- Location
- Cambridgeshire, UK
Today's ride was a treat for spending two hours in the garden clearing up the mess left behind by Doris - so was nicely warmed up by the time I hopped on the Wiggo just gone half four and set off via Downham Common and Black Bank towards Littleport. Loads of pheasants out and about in the fields - they seem to be aware that the season for *bang* *bang* *bang* is over and that they aren't in danger of ending up in someone's crock pot. 
At the top of Black Bank I turned left onto the A1101. Was really busy as it was commuter-o-clock. The road surface has really deteriorated since I last rode out this way, but they are currently in the process of re-surfacing. Not entirely sure whether the newly re-surfaced section is an improvement to the potholes as it's like a cross between tramlines and a washboard.
I think I prefer the potholes. 
Stayed on the A1101 Bates's Drove until it joins up with national cycle route 11 at the bottom of Gold Hill. Then it was another left turn onto Hundred Foot Bank to head towards Pymoor. Alas that turn brought me into a really stiff headwind, which isn't so good on a long straight road. Joy, not...
Stopped in a gateway for a drink and a few M&Ms before pushing on.
There were loads of swans in the fields right alongside the road - mostly Whooper, but some Mute. They didn't seem to be bothered by the occasional car, but went running off in a flap as I passed on the bike.
There is also a heronry somewhere near Long Drove, as I saw eight or nine herons flying around near a small spinney. And near the pumping station, there were daffodils growing on the river levee. Only one was flowering though. And lots of evidence all ride long of Doris' temper tantrum last week - trees down and plenty of debris by the side of the road.
I followed cycle route 11 all the way into Pymoor. I met a very exuberant but extremely friendly Dalmatian when I stopped to turn my lights on. At this point I could have turned for home down Pymoor Lane, but I still felt good, so carried on along Main Street towards Little Downham. Then it's past Corkers Crisps (couldn't smell a thing today) and Adventurer's Drove, up the nasty little climb that's Mill Hill (I'm getting better at tackling it) and into Downham.
At long last I now found myself with a tail wind, which was a blessed relief.
Through the village (no numpties outside the chippy this time) and down the hill the other side. Managed to set off the 30 mph warning lights as I fizzed towards Cowbridge Hall Drove. 
Then it's a left down there, a right at the bottom onto California, and then the last mile and a half home.
That was 17 enjoyable if hard miles in the bag on an afternoon that got increasingly chilly and blustery as the miles ticked by. Could have done with an extra layer up top, but quickly warmed up with a hot brew as soon as I got in.
Felt good to get out and take advantage of the weather while it lasts as it's set to 
later in the week.
At the top of Black Bank I turned left onto the A1101. Was really busy as it was commuter-o-clock. The road surface has really deteriorated since I last rode out this way, but they are currently in the process of re-surfacing. Not entirely sure whether the newly re-surfaced section is an improvement to the potholes as it's like a cross between tramlines and a washboard.
I think I prefer the potholes. Stayed on the A1101 Bates's Drove until it joins up with national cycle route 11 at the bottom of Gold Hill. Then it was another left turn onto Hundred Foot Bank to head towards Pymoor. Alas that turn brought me into a really stiff headwind, which isn't so good on a long straight road. Joy, not...
Stopped in a gateway for a drink and a few M&Ms before pushing on.There were loads of swans in the fields right alongside the road - mostly Whooper, but some Mute. They didn't seem to be bothered by the occasional car, but went running off in a flap as I passed on the bike.
There is also a heronry somewhere near Long Drove, as I saw eight or nine herons flying around near a small spinney. And near the pumping station, there were daffodils growing on the river levee. Only one was flowering though. And lots of evidence all ride long of Doris' temper tantrum last week - trees down and plenty of debris by the side of the road.I followed cycle route 11 all the way into Pymoor. I met a very exuberant but extremely friendly Dalmatian when I stopped to turn my lights on. At this point I could have turned for home down Pymoor Lane, but I still felt good, so carried on along Main Street towards Little Downham. Then it's past Corkers Crisps (couldn't smell a thing today) and Adventurer's Drove, up the nasty little climb that's Mill Hill (I'm getting better at tackling it) and into Downham.
At long last I now found myself with a tail wind, which was a blessed relief.
Through the village (no numpties outside the chippy this time) and down the hill the other side. Managed to set off the 30 mph warning lights as I fizzed towards Cowbridge Hall Drove. Then it's a left down there, a right at the bottom onto California, and then the last mile and a half home.That was 17 enjoyable if hard miles in the bag on an afternoon that got increasingly chilly and blustery as the miles ticked by. Could have done with an extra layer up top, but quickly warmed up with a hot brew as soon as I got in.
Felt good to get out and take advantage of the weather while it lasts as it's set to later in the week.
Roadhump
Time you enjoyed wasting was not wasted
- Location
- The flatlands of South West Lancs
34.75 miles from Southport over to Aughton where I climbed Clieves Hill from the Halsall side before going round to the Aughton side and going up that way as well. My mate who lives in Leeds was telling me about some of his hilly rides last week, which made me think I should make a bit more effort to ride up a few myself, but that's not easy here in the flatlands.
After climbing the hill twice I headed through Aughton towards Melling, via one of the rural type roads in the green belt just outside Liverpool (well I think it's a green belt, there are lots of farms and fields etc around there). There are a couple of large houses in that road overlooking the green belt and which have great views over the countryside to the city and beyond. The 2 photos are the same, but one is enlarged to show more detail of the view from the front of the houses. Imagine waking up to that view from your front window each morning, some lucky people do:
The 5 things sticking up in the air to the left of the picture are cranes at the deep sea port at Seaforth, They were placed there about 2 years ago and allow ships to deliver cargo to Liverpool without having to enter the docks, which apparently means far more cargo can now pass through the port because modern ships that are too big for the dock can now berth there. Then of course, there are the Welsh hills in the background. Enough of the geography lesson! I carried on through the Aughton countryside, along Butcher's Lane which takes you past the back of Ashworth Hospital, and then right towards Melling. I stopped for a few minutes to have a chat with my mate in his motorcycle workshop in Melling, then carried on towards Melling Church. I should have stopped to take a couple of photos there because it is a lovely quaint countryside setting with the church one side of a country lane and the Bootle Arms pub on the other, but it was getting really cold and I wanted to keep going.
I had a nice 25 mph or so freewheel from the church down towards Maghull station and rode on through Maghull and Sefton, then through Ince Blundell and crossed the A565 Formby Bypass to skirt Hightown, go back up to the bypass and through Formby before going back to the bypass again to head back towards home. While I was in the central reservation between the crash barriers on either side, another cyclist was crossing to head into Formby and we chatted for about 30 seconds about where we had been. It seemed a bit strange doing this with cars screaming past at 70 mph in both directions either side of us.
After that I rode past Formby Hall Golf Club and though Ainsdale to get home about 5.20 pm and begin my tea cooking duties for me and my wife, always my turn on Wednesday. Great ride and the route I took helped me avoid riding into the strong westerly wind, except for 2 or 3 exposed stretches, but it was rather more chilly than expected and my feet were like blocks of ice when I got home.
After climbing the hill twice I headed through Aughton towards Melling, via one of the rural type roads in the green belt just outside Liverpool (well I think it's a green belt, there are lots of farms and fields etc around there). There are a couple of large houses in that road overlooking the green belt and which have great views over the countryside to the city and beyond. The 2 photos are the same, but one is enlarged to show more detail of the view from the front of the houses. Imagine waking up to that view from your front window each morning, some lucky people do:
The 5 things sticking up in the air to the left of the picture are cranes at the deep sea port at Seaforth, They were placed there about 2 years ago and allow ships to deliver cargo to Liverpool without having to enter the docks, which apparently means far more cargo can now pass through the port because modern ships that are too big for the dock can now berth there. Then of course, there are the Welsh hills in the background. Enough of the geography lesson! I carried on through the Aughton countryside, along Butcher's Lane which takes you past the back of Ashworth Hospital, and then right towards Melling. I stopped for a few minutes to have a chat with my mate in his motorcycle workshop in Melling, then carried on towards Melling Church. I should have stopped to take a couple of photos there because it is a lovely quaint countryside setting with the church one side of a country lane and the Bootle Arms pub on the other, but it was getting really cold and I wanted to keep going.
I had a nice 25 mph or so freewheel from the church down towards Maghull station and rode on through Maghull and Sefton, then through Ince Blundell and crossed the A565 Formby Bypass to skirt Hightown, go back up to the bypass and through Formby before going back to the bypass again to head back towards home. While I was in the central reservation between the crash barriers on either side, another cyclist was crossing to head into Formby and we chatted for about 30 seconds about where we had been. It seemed a bit strange doing this with cars screaming past at 70 mph in both directions either side of us.
After that I rode past Formby Hall Golf Club and though Ainsdale to get home about 5.20 pm and begin my tea cooking duties for me and my wife, always my turn on Wednesday. Great ride and the route I took helped me avoid riding into the strong westerly wind, except for 2 or 3 exposed stretches, but it was rather more chilly than expected and my feet were like blocks of ice when I got home.
Jon George
Mamil and couldn't care less
- Location
- Suffolk an' Good
Seems to be a common problem with birds in general - around here it's flocks of pigeons or a bouquet of pheasant - or dogs. I sometimes wonder if it's to do with a high-frequency noise from the bike mechs ... or my whistling.
Reynard
Guru
- Location
- Cambridgeshire, UK
Seems to be a common problem with birds in general - around here it's flocks of pigeons or a bouquet of pheasant - or dogs. I sometimes wonder if it's to do with a high-frequency noise from the bike mechs ... or my whistling.
Can't be any worse than mine. Your whistling, that is. I can't hold a tune in a bathtub let alone in a bucket...
Speaking of dogs, the other night I was cycling back from the train station when I had to stop at the temporary traffic lights they've got on some roadworks. Was about half eleven at night, so no one about except for this lady walking two miniature schnauzers. The dogs were fine while I was stationary, but as soon as the lights went green and I pedalled off, they went totally bananas, barking, pogoing around on the end of their leads, that kind of thing. Both their owner and I had a good laugh about it though.
Jimidh
Veteran
- Location
- Midlothian
I took my CX bike out for a ride into East Lothian on a 40 mile round trip on mostly off road trails and old railway lines.
Great to see signs of spring although there was still plenty of ice about and the wind coming back home was brutal.
Came home covered in mud but happy as a pig in - well you know the rest!!
twentysix by twentyfive
Clinging on tightly
- Location
- Over the Hill
Sunshine but blowing a strong one. I headed for the shelter of the hills and hedges. So round by Longley Green and on to Coddington. The crocus were in full flower in the "secret" garden. At Pegg's Farm I turned into the full wrath of the wind as I took on the Munsley up and over. At Pixley I got some shelter from the Marcle Hills as I rode through Rushall. I was looking forward to my tail wind reward from Much Marcle. My legs were feeling it tho', especially on the upslopes. By the time I was taking to the final leg through the Castlemorton lanes I was running on empty. Those fumes proved to be just enough as I crept up the Guarlford road for home. 51 fairly tough smiles.
EltonFrog
Legendary Member
What a lovely afternoon, dry, sunny, clear skies, a little breeze, I didn't have much time so I thought I'd get the Mountain Bike out, I haven't ridden it for months.
Yesterday when I was out on my run I saw a couple of bridleways and BOATS up on The Ridgeway that I hadn't ridden down before, so I thought I'd explore them, a bit of a waste of time really because they didn't really go anywhere interesting, but at least I know now. But it was a good excuse to take some photos, it's truly stunning up there, the phone of I camera doesn't really do them any justice but you'll get the idea.
When I came down off The Ridgeway I took a detour through Blewbury and came down another BOAT on the outskirts of my village, what a boggy slippery mess, shan't do that again, still a smidgen over 12 miles and a lovely couple of hours sodding about on the bike.
The old railway cutting, the track used to go from Didcot to Newbury.
This old road was the A34 from Chilton to Cheivley
I'm not sure what all the brickwork is about, it looks like a very elaborate speed hump.
Which way?
Stunnin' innit?
The disappointing bridleway.
Continued...
Yesterday when I was out on my run I saw a couple of bridleways and BOATS up on The Ridgeway that I hadn't ridden down before, so I thought I'd explore them, a bit of a waste of time really because they didn't really go anywhere interesting, but at least I know now. But it was a good excuse to take some photos, it's truly stunning up there, the phone of I camera doesn't really do them any justice but you'll get the idea.
When I came down off The Ridgeway I took a detour through Blewbury and came down another BOAT on the outskirts of my village, what a boggy slippery mess, shan't do that again, still a smidgen over 12 miles and a lovely couple of hours sodding about on the bike.
The old railway cutting, the track used to go from Didcot to Newbury.
This old road was the A34 from Chilton to Cheivley
I'm not sure what all the brickwork is about, it looks like a very elaborate speed hump.
Which way?
Stunnin' innit?
The disappointing bridleway.
Continued...
The wind and rain finally relented for me to get my first ride in for nearly 2 weeks, with a short ride after work. Set out with the intention of following my regular route around Shrewsbury, but it didn't turn out as planned.
Began by heading through the estate and along the old railway path, where at the end I encountered a pathetic pea brained youth on a bike, who had his face fully covered (up to no good I would say) and he wasn't looking where he was going and almost rode into me. I swerved to avoid him and he grunted something incomprehensible, probably all his brain can muster, so I responded with some choice words around looking where he was going in future
I continued up the cycle paths to Heathgates and then through Castlefields, before coming out by the River Severn. The river was unexpectedly very high, due to all of the recent rain and as I got to the weir I found the flood gates were shut and indeed the river was on the towpath. That scuppered my planned route and so I decided to nip through the older end of Castlefields, across the bridge to Underdale and then just followed my nose with no real plan on where to go. Whichever way meant mixing it with rush hour traffic and I wasn't looking forward to that.
I initially went through Abbey Foregate and then turned up past Whitehall and through towards Belvidere, where I planned to come out around the Shirehall.
I somehow missed the turning and ended up in Belvidere itself, passing the school and pub.
As I was there I thought I may as well loop round that estate and eventually arrived back where I wanted to be!
I took Wenlock Road, which was very busy with traffic, and had what must be the most idiotic and closest pass I've ever had. A prat in a white Tiguan came past me, missing my arm by around an inch I would guess and proceeded to then stop and turn right just in front of me
I don't normally react, but this stupid idiot got both barrels off me and I was pretty much fed up with the ride and so headed straight home, having done 10.4 miles.
Won't be a ride that I remember fondly.
Began by heading through the estate and along the old railway path, where at the end I encountered a pathetic pea brained youth on a bike, who had his face fully covered (up to no good I would say) and he wasn't looking where he was going and almost rode into me. I swerved to avoid him and he grunted something incomprehensible, probably all his brain can muster, so I responded with some choice words around looking where he was going in future
I continued up the cycle paths to Heathgates and then through Castlefields, before coming out by the River Severn. The river was unexpectedly very high, due to all of the recent rain and as I got to the weir I found the flood gates were shut and indeed the river was on the towpath. That scuppered my planned route and so I decided to nip through the older end of Castlefields, across the bridge to Underdale and then just followed my nose with no real plan on where to go. Whichever way meant mixing it with rush hour traffic and I wasn't looking forward to that.
I initially went through Abbey Foregate and then turned up past Whitehall and through towards Belvidere, where I planned to come out around the Shirehall.
I somehow missed the turning and ended up in Belvidere itself, passing the school and pub.
As I was there I thought I may as well loop round that estate and eventually arrived back where I wanted to be!
I took Wenlock Road, which was very busy with traffic, and had what must be the most idiotic and closest pass I've ever had. A prat in a white Tiguan came past me, missing my arm by around an inch I would guess and proceeded to then stop and turn right just in front of me
I don't normally react, but this stupid idiot got both barrels off me and I was pretty much fed up with the ride and so headed straight home, having done 10.4 miles.
Won't be a ride that I remember fondly.
- Location
- Shrewsbury, Shropshire
The wind and rain finally relented for me to get my first ride in for nearly 2 weeks, with a short ride after work. Set out with the intention of following my regular route around Shrewsbury, but it didn't turn out as planned.
Began by heading through the estate and along the old railway path, where at the end I encountered a pathetic pea brained youth on a bike, who had his face fully covered (up to no good I would say) and he wasn't looking where he was going and almost rode into me. I swerved to avoid him and he grunted something incomprehensible, probably all his brain can muster, so I responded with some choice words around looking where he was going in future
I continued up the cycle paths to Heathgates and then through Castlefields, before coming out by the River Severn. The river was unexpectedly very high, due to all of the recent rain and as I got to the weir I found the flood gates were shut and indeed the river was on the towpath. That scuppered my planned route and so I decided to nip through the older end of Castlefields, across the bridge to Underdale and then just followed my nose with no real plan on where to go. Whichever way meant mixing it with rush hour traffic and I wasn't looking forward to that.
I initially went through Abbey Foregate and then turned up past Whitehall and through towards Belvidere, where I planned to come out around the Shirehall.
I somehow missed the turning and ended up in Belvidere itself, passing the school and pub.
As I was there I thought I may as well loop round that estate and eventually arrived back where I wanted to be!
I took Wenlock Road, which was very busy with traffic, and had what must be the most idiotic and closest pass I've ever had. A prat in a white Tiguan came past me, missing my arm by around an inch I would guess and proceeded to then stop and turn right just in front of me
I don't normally react, but this stupid idiot got both barrels off me and I was pretty much fed up with the ride and so headed straight home, having done 10.4 miles.
Won't be a ride that I remember fondly.
You do seem to meet a lot of awkward people on your rides.This ride follows Sunday's catastrophic ride, in the context of an impending exit from the Imperial Century a Month Challenge.
On Tuesday morning I set out for the third time to attempt riding 100 miles in the west of Scotland - in February.
I thought I was being clever, by delaying setting off to avoid the worst of the heavy frost. As it happened, I chose the worst possible time to start, as it put me in direct conflict with horrendous school traffic.
Driving standards are so poor in this area, I came within inches of getting splatted within the first 200 yards. A young woman driving a massive w**kpanzer, with her phone glued to her ear, completely oblivious to the world around her, pulled out of a side street without looking.
What is it about people nowadays that gives them such a strong sense of entitlement?
(I used to walk 2 miles to school each way every day, and I'm only in my thirties - but then I have always been a tad weird...
)
Having negotiated the rat runs with life and limb intact, I started the climb to Fenwick Moor. During this I got dropped - not once, but twice! The chaps in question were wearing club gear, so I'm feeling pragmatic about it...
The segregated cycle path that runs parallel to the A77 was completely covered in sheet ice, so I elected to instead mix it with traffic.
My heart sank as it started sleeting moments before I reached the plateau, and it had become heavy by the time I reached the turnoff for Galston.
Happily, this sleet was temporary, and after a couple of miles the skies cleared up, giving me a new thing to worry about. With the low winter sun in my face and the roads at saturation point, I couldn't see a thing, and so I stopped to switch on my rear light.
It was around this time that I discovered that with the peak of my new cycling cap down, I could see perfectly well - what a revelation!
The village of Москва (не то, что один) was soon passed (without a Trump aide in sight), as was the scene of my big crash in 2008 on the outskirts of Galston.
I then joined the 2016 Tour of Britain route, puggling my way up to Sornhill and gingerly wheeling down the other side out of fear of black ice (I was amazed that the organisers felt that this road surface was up to the standard expected of a World Tour stage...)
During a brief roadside stop I saw the snow-covered Southern Uplands in the distance. I had started with a rough plan to climb the Mennock Pass from the west and double back, but did not want to risk getting stranded or crashing on an icy descent.
I therefore left the ToB route and continued down to Sorn and my first stop, where I raided the local post office/shop for supplies and a chat.
The road from Sorn is a beautiful, undulating country route, and I found myself being easily dropped for the third time of the day, conveniently after I had stopped to take this...
Unfortunately, this joyous ride was not to last - the road from Sorn all too soon joined the A70, which is NOT a fun road to ride.
While it looks innocuous enough in the photo, the A70 is the main road between Ayr and the M74, and my time on it set the tone for much of the rest of the ride. The road surface was heavily eroded, and bouncing around sapped my strength while I had to deal with fast trucks and cars.
The driving skill on display took a sharp nosedive as I approached Muirkirk, due to "traffic calming" measures. To put it bluntly, Muirkirk is a s***hole, a town so dead that Pripyat bustles in comparison.
A few fraught miles later, I arrived in Glespin and with no small relief, I turned onto the back road to Crawfordjohn.
This stretch is an absolutely stunning ride, with scenery that my crappy camera is incapable of doing justice. (Can anyone recommend a technique to fix a foggy phone camera lens? I've tried toothpaste to buff out the scratches to no avail.)
I struggled on the Glentaggart climb, but I stopped about 700m from the summit to eat and rest, so am not too downhearted about being in position 1383/1412.
On the edge of Crawfordjohn I encountered a crossroads. Going left would lead to the main valley that cuts through the southern uplands, with the M74 and West Coast Main Line. Going right would take me up the eastern face of the Mennock Pass to the villages of Wanlockhead and Leadhills.
Given how I struggled on the Glentaggart climb, I wistfully turned my back on the Mennock Pass and headed eastwards. Distance, not elevation, was the mission of the day!
Part 2 to follow later...
On Tuesday morning I set out for the third time to attempt riding 100 miles in the west of Scotland - in February.
I thought I was being clever, by delaying setting off to avoid the worst of the heavy frost. As it happened, I chose the worst possible time to start, as it put me in direct conflict with horrendous school traffic.
Driving standards are so poor in this area, I came within inches of getting splatted within the first 200 yards. A young woman driving a massive w**kpanzer, with her phone glued to her ear, completely oblivious to the world around her, pulled out of a side street without looking.
What is it about people nowadays that gives them such a strong sense of entitlement?
(I used to walk 2 miles to school each way every day, and I'm only in my thirties - but then I have always been a tad weird...
)Having negotiated the rat runs with life and limb intact, I started the climb to Fenwick Moor. During this I got dropped - not once, but twice! The chaps in question were wearing club gear, so I'm feeling pragmatic about it...
The segregated cycle path that runs parallel to the A77 was completely covered in sheet ice, so I elected to instead mix it with traffic.
My heart sank as it started sleeting moments before I reached the plateau, and it had become heavy by the time I reached the turnoff for Galston.
Happily, this sleet was temporary, and after a couple of miles the skies cleared up, giving me a new thing to worry about. With the low winter sun in my face and the roads at saturation point, I couldn't see a thing, and so I stopped to switch on my rear light.
It was around this time that I discovered that with the peak of my new cycling cap down, I could see perfectly well - what a revelation!
The village of Москва (не то, что один) was soon passed (without a Trump aide in sight), as was the scene of my big crash in 2008 on the outskirts of Galston.
I then joined the 2016 Tour of Britain route, puggling my way up to Sornhill and gingerly wheeling down the other side out of fear of black ice (I was amazed that the organisers felt that this road surface was up to the standard expected of a World Tour stage...)
During a brief roadside stop I saw the snow-covered Southern Uplands in the distance. I had started with a rough plan to climb the Mennock Pass from the west and double back, but did not want to risk getting stranded or crashing on an icy descent.
I therefore left the ToB route and continued down to Sorn and my first stop, where I raided the local post office/shop for supplies and a chat.
The road from Sorn is a beautiful, undulating country route, and I found myself being easily dropped for the third time of the day, conveniently after I had stopped to take this...
Unfortunately, this joyous ride was not to last - the road from Sorn all too soon joined the A70, which is NOT a fun road to ride.
While it looks innocuous enough in the photo, the A70 is the main road between Ayr and the M74, and my time on it set the tone for much of the rest of the ride. The road surface was heavily eroded, and bouncing around sapped my strength while I had to deal with fast trucks and cars.
The driving skill on display took a sharp nosedive as I approached Muirkirk, due to "traffic calming" measures. To put it bluntly, Muirkirk is a s***hole, a town so dead that Pripyat bustles in comparison.
A few fraught miles later, I arrived in Glespin and with no small relief, I turned onto the back road to Crawfordjohn.
This stretch is an absolutely stunning ride, with scenery that my crappy camera is incapable of doing justice. (Can anyone recommend a technique to fix a foggy phone camera lens? I've tried toothpaste to buff out the scratches to no avail.)
I struggled on the Glentaggart climb, but I stopped about 700m from the summit to eat and rest, so am not too downhearted about being in position 1383/1412.
On the edge of Crawfordjohn I encountered a crossroads. Going left would lead to the main valley that cuts through the southern uplands, with the M74 and West Coast Main Line. Going right would take me up the eastern face of the Mennock Pass to the villages of Wanlockhead and Leadhills.
Given how I struggled on the Glentaggart climb, I wistfully turned my back on the Mennock Pass and headed eastwards. Distance, not elevation, was the mission of the day!
Part 2 to follow later...
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Brasso has a very light 'cut' and should remove the scratches. Best try it out on a piece of plastic of similar hardness first though
Make sure you apply it with a soft clean cloth
