Tonight's ride started too late, caught the worst of the weather and although I tried to make it shorter, I only succeeded in making it a little flatter, more exposed, into a head wind, more off-road, downhill in the worst place (the tail wind, ergo - colder) and 10% longer.
It was bloody brilliant.
I explored new lanes, found posh houses I didn't know existed. Rode to Wentworth Castle, looked down on the hundreds of red and white lights on the M1. I avoided 90% of traffic on black Friday, despite only leaving work at 6 and as the rain lashed torrentially I was in the middle of a field on the Trans-Pennine trail, approaching Wortley, laughing at puddles.
By Oughtibridge my rain leggings started to leak which is just where I started to get blown along at 30 mph, the rain flying straight up into my eyes, soaking my gloves and chilling my already wet toes. I toyed with the idea of riding over the hill to avoid Hillsborough on a Friday night but I was *that* tired and cold I decided to face the main road. So I pedalled downhill as fast as I could for 8 miles before the lovely warming uphill to my house.
I thought I would be sad to retire Phoenix as a race bike but with adventures like these, I am proud that we're growing old disgracefully together.
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