I rode out, poked about, ate dinner, ran away again

I've been training for 2 weeks now. The first 2 weeks I stuck to the plan until this weekend. On Friday my head fell apart at work and I did little work. The headspace fug continued into Saturday. I think it's alcohol induced having cooked with wine and drunk the rest between us. The weekend was spent planning motivations for adventures instead of having adventures; working on my bike, not sitting on it.

I took the important decision to ride the Cotic to race this year and spent Saturday transplanting parts so I could ride it and enjoy it and Sunday finding all my stuff and loading it up. The enthusiasm to go out camping outweighed the weather hesitancy and so I loaded up and rolled out at 4. I quickly realised I had neither the lights nor the plan to cope with a 4pm start. However the ride through the woods in the sunset was apleasure and I surprised myself by riding a short ramp I've not completed before. I've still not completed it but I got further up it than I ever have before.

With a bit of saddle position faffing I hit my road climb in time to put the lights on. I also took the opportunity to inadvertently figure out which of my Spot batteries were dead.

I hit the boulders descents cursed myself for tumbling down it Why? Why? Why? Then remembered it was dark and the bike was loaded.

I was tempted to just camp in the woods but instead headed towards Stanage then diverted to a disused building for a spot of dinner. I had new fuel to test so decided a concrete floor would be safest and most reliable. I didn't fancy getting buffeted about on Stanage or committing to the Derwent valley as I started to feel a bit rubbish and washed out.

Up on the open moor with the sun gone, the wind whipped through me so I stopped in the lee of a stone wall bridge to add layers. Huddled down there was the happiest I'd been in ages. Chilled out and a bit elemental and ferral but I wasn't going to camp right on the access track.  The wind also occasionally sneaked around the edge with a chill and threatened to blow everything away. I packed up and ventured back into the cold,  relieved by a sit in the grass and wriggling into new layers. Several hares watched me with hollow eyes as I approached and then disappeared into the darkness when I got just out of reach.

• • •

I made it up to the building and kept the lights on low so as not to bring attention to myself. There's only a couple of sight holes in the clouded-over glass that point towards the Stanedge Lodge but I was moderately nervous that the blazing roaring flame from my stove was genuinely too visible.

I burned a hole in my gloves and was genuinely relieved I wasn't under canvas or in a confined space. I'll give that fuel a miss in future! Despite the shelter from the wind the place was still cold and unnerving. Wind whipped through the eaves accompanied by eerie booms from fireworks in Sheffield. Critters from another world would not have been out of place scurrying through the long grass and tumbling down the chimney. I put on all my layers: waterproof trousers over my windproof shorts and thermal coat over my waterproof coat and tried not to set anything else on fire. I ate my dinner in the red glow of my head torch, concluded the meal was insufficient and resumed my plan of not bothering with a bivi this time around. I wasn't nearly knackered enough to sleep through the noises, graffiti and sense of confinement and not nearly driven enough to find somewhere suitable outdoors.

I loaded up all my cooking gear, risked removing my thermal layer and continued along the trail to its end. It was soggy in places requiring a push where I didn't have the grip on my tyres. The descent to the road was shortlived though. I tossed my bike over a fence without my lights on to avoid drawing attention to myself and cursed through impaling myself on barbed wire. It was a relief to be on friendlier territory & I was pleased to find one of my more regular farmers has finally given up on his nearly impossible gate latch and replaced it with a loop of twine. It was certainly enjoyable to be shoved all the way back to Sheffield by the howling wind while I relaxed and watched the last of the fireworks exploding green and gold above Stannington.

At least back on home turf I felt warmer again in the valley and had the energy left to tow my lungs and legs kicking and screaming up the offroad climb instead of subjecting my ego to the road pavement climb hike known as "my road direct".

I walked through the door at 9:30pm, chilled out and just a bit hungry but mainly content, that I made it out for my first (if what, somewhat abortive) loaded ride.