At 4pm I got on the rollers, it seemed like a poor excuse for exercise and as I set myself up I contemplated adding more layers of clothing and my light and heading out the door for a short, dark ride - anything - just to get up the hill and back down again but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I got on the rollers and full-on sulked for the first 20 minutes of the ride and faffed with my shoes and my saddle. I finally got comfortable enough and turned my music up load enough to properly enjoy it and bashed out 28 miles but it really wasn't that rewarding, balancing between the radiator and the washing machine and staring at the back door. I rode fast and hard to beat myself up and felt like some kind of sick addict, not the well balanced, happy athlete that I'd like to be.
I felt like I'd achieved nothing except the mental insurance that I was knackered enough to get a decent night's sleep - and sleep I did.
So, today I had to ride.
Still, I spent most of the morning on the computer getting a job out of the way I've been leaving for a while - buying new wheels for the bike - a dynamo hub on the front and 32 spokes on each wheel - insurance for if any ping on my trip!
We finally made it out at 11:30 which is dangerous because lunch pangs are starting.
We had an early stop planned at the Adventure Cafe in Castleton before something else. That early stop almost got shortened further as it started snowing on us going over Moscar and then turned to torrential sleet / hail at Ladybower dam.
We coated up but by the time we'd reached Bamford lights it was starting to brighten so we reverted to plan A.
Blissful that they had space in the caf, we demolished lunch and extra coffee before heading back out. It had been bright but as soon as we stuck our noses out the door it started to sleet again. If this was my punishment for spending 2 days indoors then I accept it with open arms. I love being prepared for horrendous conditions. I feel like I am perfectly and hermetically sealed.
TSK has done plenty of riding the last two days so he headed home whilst I set out for more. I fancied having a go at Winnats Pass in extreme conditions. God knows how I was going to get back - there was some kind of plan involving a long ride around on main roads... whatever, it felt like an interesting challenge.
I started the road up out of Hope in glorious sunshine, finally and couldn't help myself stop to take this photo.
I pulled off the road and stood in a gate way to take the pic, my bike tucked onto the grass verge alongside the pavement. My bike took up no more space than a human stopping to take a picture would although the stink eye I got from well heeled passers by was excruciating. Clearly I was messing up their neat and tidy trip out to a country pub day by being sweaty and in their way... or maybe they were just jealous that I didn't pay to park.
Within 100m of the turn which forms the start of the climb, I knew I was in trouble. Where I'd expected to be out of the wind in the lee of the climb, instead, the freezing cold air from above was hurtling down the hill like a wind-tunnel, channelled between the rock faces that form the sides of Winnats Pass.
I crossed the cattle grid, already standing hard on the pedals and without any gears left. I'd kind of expected this road to have been gritted as it's a tourist hot spot and through-route to Manchester but no, it was slushy. Probably rideable under-tyre but with the wind, practically impossible. My lunch weighed heavy in my belly and I turned around and freewheeled back out, stopping to go through the gate instead of cross the cattle grid.
Two lads going the other way on bikes looked at my quizically as they must have seen me bail, I reassured them it was "probably passable but I couldn't be arsed with the wind" and then rode off to leave them to their choices.
I headed into Hathersage next to pick up some stuff that's on my TAW shopping list and then back-tracked to the Grindleford Road.
I couldn't help a trip out to Eyam. Somehow I convinced myself it would be less blowy and less icy.
Initially it was, then it got worse where motorists had persevered. I rode the steep bit (protected from the weather by its gradient) but then had to get off to walk on the ice higher up as there wasn't enough traction for my road tyres which occasionally kicked out worryingly. I got fed up of taking in short sharp breaths - and holding it - whilst trying to ride and I had far too much adrenaline in me now. I walked all the way to the top.
On flatter terrain I managed to ride again. A few motorists were leaving the parking area at the start of the off-road trail. I stuck to my guns and rode in the tyre tracks - slightly clearer of ice than anywhere else on the road. At the top it was particularly icy and one Audi driver stopped by the side of the road ahead.
I wasn't sure if he was waiting to check I was OK, or what but he brought my attention to the condition of the road - sheet ice across, crunchy in some places, hard as nails in others. I tentatively shimmied across it. He pulled away as I looked more stable and competent. I don't know if he was looking out for me or not but he sure was in a nice spot. With him gone, there was no-one around. The place was absolutely silent. I took out my phone to capture the wonderful sunset and the moon contrasting with the snow and green grass on the other side of the road. As ever, it didn't capture the wonder but hey, I've got evidence I was happy and I think mostly it was the silence I was photographing.
I slithered on down the hill, staying on top of the brakes all the way down to Eyam, just in case. A brief respite through the well-travelled village then back up the other side, along the broken road back towards Grindleford. The broken road was so clear on the broken bit that I nearly let my guard down and had a sketchy moment as I rejoined the tarmac right in front of a family who warned me that the rest of the road was also badly icy. Phew. Not too far to the main road.
Although I'd enjoyed my silent moment, it was nice to get back to the steady flow of traffic - or rather the knowledge that I could plough on at full speed without too much of a worry. Up to form and flying up on to Froggat which I enjoyed, mainly because it was warm - and because I was motoring along quite nicely thank you very much.
A few cautious moments over the top where the lovely council had kindly put "ice!" warning signs out to notify road users of places where streams and such tend to cross the road but they were mostly clear. As the sun disappeared, I was happy to be heading for home with the traffic.
Deciding not to risk the back-lanes home, I stayed on the main road into Eccleshall - one which I don't normally enjoy because of the traffic but today I appreciated its fast, ice free descent almost as much as I appreciated the long climb back up through Broomhill and Crookes to get me warm again following 17 minutes of freewheeling down hill in a gentle shower of front-wheel spray.
I full-on beat three motorists at the game of "stop at the zebra crossing for the pedestrian" before wobbling cautiously down the pavement to my own home for 5pm to an army of cuddly cats and TSK.
That, people, knocked the socks off beating myself up on the rollers whilst staring at the cat flap yesterday.
No comments:
Post a Comment