On paper yesterday seemed like a good opportunity for a ride, but nothing really appealed.
I'd tried to upsell myself a leisure ride on the Genesis but wasn't really feeling it; I think because of the weight of expectation to get something from it other than the completion of some tangible utility task. I considered a shopping trip on the Fuji; and while I'd been reduced to swigging
mother's ruin from the bottle by a tonic water drought didn't need much else.. I had things for the charity shop but that required thought, decision and commitment as to what was going and to where; while the tip was out on account of the less than pleasant route involved.
Finally I decided on a trip to Woodstock - about 30 miles round-trip mostly on quiet rural backroads. I'd take the Fuji, try to sort some tonic water and maybe stop for a drink.
After an age of anxiety-driven mincing I was finally out the door at about half three; having packed for all eventualities and chucked the posh camera into one of the pannier bags in the hope of getting some pictures. I initially headed west to avoid the grottyness of the main road, eventually coming to the first gate of many on NCR5 that leads through some farmland / an estate:
I like this route as it's off the road, however the many gates and grotty surface do take the shine off it somewhat. After a bit more road I ducked down a familiar bridleway and across some fields; the idyllic surroundings jarring somewhat with the rough ground and its demands for me to sweat even more than I already was..
By the time I'd made it across the fields I was glad to get back to the relative smoothness of the roads and continued to head south. While grateful for the protection from the sun afforded by my cycling cap, I was less keen on the sweat accumulating beneath and welcomed every bit of shade as an opportunity to remove the hat and let my head breathe a bit.
The roads proved gloriously quiet and it felt like I hardly encountered any other vehicles as I rolled on at a sedate pace..
Eventually I reached the bit of NCR5 that once more diverges from the road and continues along a few miles of off-road track; beginning fairly innocently with a tarmacked, car-width surface that ultimately tapers down to a 6" wide bit of singletrack bounded by overhanging foliage.
While manageable it's enough to keep the less-technically-proficient amongst us on our toes, and while the hard-pack earth is fine under the Fuji's 32mm rubber currently; in the winter you'd want to be on a decent MTB with some knobbly tyres.
As nice as it was I have no pics of this bit as I was concentrating more on the ride / not becoming part of the hedge. I always like having photos from a ride but find that for some reason the experiences of photography and cycling don't mix well; I think because constantly looking / stopping for photos distracts / detracts from the enjoyment of the ride itself.
I guess it might be less problematic to have a more-easily-accessible compact camera rather than hauling a full-size DSLR from the panniers every time I want to take a shot; but I do like the trappings of nice gear!
As I came into Woodstock in the now-mercifully-cooler evening air I was feeling pretty good after a fairly sedate ride, and thoughts turned to how-not-really-very-far-away the start of my normal commute is in Yarnton.
I could push on to Oxford.. however of course that would be a stupid idea since it would be by far the longest distance I'd covered this year, it was still pretty warm and it would mean a good chunk of the return leg would be in the dark.
In the face of all these sensible reasons not to press on to Oxford, I hung a left at Woodstock and headed down the Yarnton road towards the city. This decision ironically having been enabled by my anxiety; which earlier had demanded the packing of lights even though I'd expected to be home well before dark
Outside the airport during an overcast portion of the golden hour:
As I got closer to the city I felt a growing sense of forboding that I'd overcooked it; bits were starting to ache and I was a bit concerned about heading back in the dark. Regardless I'd come this far so pressed on; eventually passing the point I usually park the car for the morning commute and heading down onto the lush familiarity of the tow path.
I'd sort-of welcomed this as an opportunity to compare the characteristics of the Fuji and Brompton; however given the various stops I couldn't really compare relative speeds. Unsurprisingly the Fuji did feel a bit smoother and more relaxed over the slightly bumpy and undulating tarmacked surface.
An environment I'm more used to sharing with a very different mode of transport:
While passing Wolvercote I was tempted to conclude the outbound journey at The Plough; however in for a penny, in for a pound and I pressed on to Jericho. Somewhat hampered by the Fuji's lack of bell I made do with as-friendly-and-unthreatening-as-possible vebal announcements of my presence to pedestrians; which seemed to go down OK.
Predictably the Vicky's terrace was full and pickings otherwise slim in Jericho so I pushed on into town. The White Horse on Broad Street boasted a generous amount of outdoor seating so I settled here for a swift G&T and a few photos. Additional points were awarded to the pub for including some Joy Division in its soundtrack
Proof I made it - the Fuji in fairly unfamiliar surroundings:
I also spotted the rare sight of a Brompton locked up in the wild; its Turkish Green paint nicely matching the copper roof of the Sheldonian behind:
Cold G&T enthusiastically supped-to-death, depleted water bottles refilled and dusk starting to descend I began my way back; stopping at Sainsburys for a reduced posh BLT and Tesco for the all-important own brand, full-fat tonic water. I also enjoyed potentially getting the eye from some milfs along the way which was a boost - especially in my sweaty, dishevelled state
I began my egress north along the Woodstock road; stopping for one final shot against some fantastic autumn colours. And to apply some Vaseline to my chafed-left-arse-cheek.
Given the fading light I didn't take any more photos. My humble Moon lights sufficiently identifying my presence to other road users until I reached the cycle track at Woodstock and had to don the head torch to actually see where I was going in the near black. As usual the torch did a fantastic job; the versatility afforded by its duel spot / flood beams and their good range of outputs making it easy to get an appropriate amount of light where I wanted it.
A few miles in the call of an owl made me remove my earphones and immerse myself further in the night. I encountered a great selection of wildlife - narrowly avoiding a defiant toad on the cycle path; the reflection of its two little eyes staring directly at me being enough to spot it in time to take evasive action.
I was escorted along sections of the cycle path by an assortment of bats - sometimes flying with me for a few hundred yards between the high hedges on either side; presumably hunting the insects drawn to the light of my head torch.
Back on the little country roads I was probably more happy than I had right to be in spotting an actual, live hedgehog shuffling around on one of the verges. Some miles on I happened across another nonchalently lazing in the middle of the road; a poke with a pedal proving ineffectual to move it out of harms way; but my eventual staring persuaded it to indignently scuttle off into the undergrowth.
I also saw numerous rabbits and a particularly attention-hungry fox; which instead of just shrinking into the hedge when hit with the head torch chose to gallop all over the road infront of me for quite a while before finally disappearing. This is another nice benefit of the head torch in that it really allows you to see what's going on around you; rather than what's directly in front of the bike.
Retracing my route I took a detour in the hope of avoiding the section gated road I'd followed on the journey in. As it happens I diverged too soon and found myself having to cut back across-country to avoid the main A-road back into the village; going once more through the gated section. This was not only a bit of a pain due to the demands of the many gates on my increasingly fatigued being, but also somewhat intimidating given the many sets of eyes reflecting back at me as I entered the last field; which thankfully turned out to be sheep and cows however intitially reminded me very much of playing
Doom as a yoof.
Anyway, I eventually made it home; chain squeaking, neck and shoulders aching, feet starting to protest, arthritis in hands making its presence felt... but it could have been worse considering how long it's been since I've covered similar mileage.
Good use was made of my fresh bottle of tonic and I treated myself to a decent wet shave and hot shower before bed. I slept well but could probably have done with more sleep; however feel a lot better today for yesterday's outing - which I think is comfortably the largest of the year and probably only possible thanks to the stamina built by commutes on the Brompton.
In numbers: 52.57 miles and 1700ft at 12.2mph and 125bpm for around 2400kcal burned. Interestingly this compares very well to March's trip to Woodstock, which was shorter, similar elevation but much slower and at a higher HR - suggesting that I'm fitter now than I was then.. hardly surprising given the circumstances but it's always nice to see progress
