The week was great! Having not done any riding on Sunday, I vowwed to get out on Monday early and I did, leaving around 7 to watch the end of the sunrise through the clouds as I climbed up Rails Road to the top of the Rivelin Bank and then over the top into the edges of Stannington.
I soon realised I'd made a mistake, if I'd stuck to a right turn up to Dungworth I might have stood a better chance of avoiding traffic. As it was, I joined the school run through the edges of Stannington, rode over to Wortley where I passed my boss's house going the opposite way at 8:30. I added myself to the queue of traffic waiting to climb jawbone hill or turn into the trail of cars heading into Sheffield and enjoyed being the road block all the way over to Grenoside where I took the direct route over to Eckington and joined the bridle path that runs in the shadow of the M1. If you're ever passing just North of Meadowhall and see the cranes, the bike lane passes the other side of those, down in the valley... and IT IS COLD down there.
I braved it out but by the time I reached the office I could only just feel my fingers and as the heat rushed back into them in the office, I tried not to cry as the pain surged through the ends.
I did yoga on Tuesday and had a slightly easier day on Wednesday as I prepared for a customer meeting so on Thursday I was not going to hold back.
I was up at 5 and out the door, wearing ALL the clothes to compliment my fear of cold. By the time I got half way up the hill, I had to stop and shed a layer down to my fleece and high-vis gillet. Climbing back up to Bradfield this time - my ploy to avoid traffic was working.
Down the other side to Dungworth reservoir and up to the Loxley Road, crossing to climb up to Higher Loxley then drop down again to Jawbone hill and in through the same route. The sunrise from the top of Bradfield hill made was incredible . Sooner or later though, the snow started to chase over the hillside so I got a wiggle on.
Down in to Eckington, patiently waiting through the traffic to get on my bike lane then diverting off onto the dirty path through the industrial estate that secretly takes me to my bike lane.
By the time I reached the cranes I was ice-chilled to the core. I stopped, got off the bike and unwrapped my big coat, threw the high vis away into my caradice as it's the sweatiest garment I know and started riding again. The big coat allowed the venting of sweaty fleece and the extra gloves were enough to stop the complete freeze experienced on Monday morning.
I arrived at work with a huge grin on my face, *just* in time for the morning meeting and had one of the best days at work. It's easy to wobble home from a day like that but something just clicked and rather than wobble, I raced home through the streets, riding over the big hill past the Northern General and stamping out quite the pace.
On Friday I had a rest day in an attempt to get the car into the garage for its final MOT before I get rid of it.
On Saturday I was determined to get out twice this week so like an optimist, I dressed early and set off out the door. It was already raining hard and because it was raining hard, I didn't think it would be icy cold so I wore a soft shell and took my summer coat, put my rain trousers on and started riding. I did wear by big thick gloves. I only wore a cotton cap.
By the time I got to the bottom of the hill and set off up the Rivelin Valley I knew something was wrong. My feet had been bugging me for days so I had moved my cleats before I left and the right foot really wouldn't settle. So I popped into the toilets to get some shelter and messed with my cleats, added my summer coat with the hood up and put my helmet back ontop of it. I then took it off again and added my buff around my neck to stop my chin freezing and re-dressed.
Further up hill, I removed the soft shell as I was now warm and fiddled with my cleats some more, with another fiddle out side the water treatment works. I wasn't doing well here.
I stuck to the main road instead of putting myself out there on the tops up on Rodside. The head wind was bad enough in the valley, I thought I'd save the wind on the tops for the way home. I struggled through the wind, feeling tired and spent. Headwinds weren't supposed to be this hard and I could hardly remember feeling so good on Thursday night. It was somewhat the fault of my new crud catcher which I know looks wrong on this bike but I'm so sick of getting covered in crap and wet legs within seconds of riding on a wet road... I put it on backwards and now it acts as very efficient resistance training. Still, at least my legs were dry.
The descent was fine into the Derwent valley on the other side. Whilst I'd left the house with big ambitions for a long day, I was non-commital as to where I was going and hadn't even turned to sat nav yet in the spirit of making it up as I go along.
At Bamford lights I was overcome by the temptation to ride up the Ladybower valley. Theoretically out of the wind, surrounded by trees offering at least some form of solace, shelter and diversity of vision compared to rainy lanes of the Peak, open spaces, the Hope valley with its exposure and wind-tunnel effect.
The idea grew on me faster than the descent and I continued straight on at the lights, turning up the one-way road to Fairholmes and Kings Tree.
The effect was instant, an immediate demise in traffic. One way a view over the lake, the other way, trees, dense, stacked trees. The scene was set for the next 90 minutes.
Debating whether to stop at Fairholmes for a hot pie and deciding not to get cold (there's no "indoors" except the toilets) I continued up past the village of 2-3 houses and on along the contorted contours of the lake shore, in and out of stream beds and finally, onto the last open straight trail to King's tree itself. I had already decided to extend the joy and make this a lap of the reservoir, despite the muck I would experience, riding down the trail on the other side.
Through the gate onto cinder road now, I would see nothing but mountain bikers and soggy walkers, equipped to various levels of rain-proofing.
I passed the tiny humped bridge where I sat with some of my closest girlfriends on my Hen do and then joined the trail on the other side of the water expanse. I forgot how exposed it was on this side!
Split between getting the hell off the open hillside and getting my hands into warmer gloves, I kept pedalling until I reached some tree cover. This went on and on for some time as I passed mountain bikers and walkers and didn't want to stop until gradually I realised that my thickest winter gloves were doing nothing to stem the cold because for all that they're super-fluffy, they're not in the least water proof and they were sodden and being blown on by the icy wind.
As my left hand clawed so that I could not have used the big ring if I wanted and my right started to hurt so badly, I decided it was time to change my gloves despite not being certain how much it would help. I didn't anticipate having to do this before lunchtime so therefore started to get a little nervous about how long my day could be.
Stuffed inside fleecy dry liner gloves and backed up with my fleece-lined water proofs I thought there would be too much padding to allow the blood to flow into my hands but it did and slowly I regained feeling and then gentle warmth. A little moisture seeped through the stretched seams and then nothing, we were back at the road. I was still too alarmed by the temperature though to consider continuing. I could have made the cafe at Bamford for a warming lunch before continuing my ride but I determined that I had already given the day enough of myself. I rode back up the side of the Rivelin Valley, up onto Rodside to brave the elements and enjoy the tail wind home. Unfortunately, the wind had move sideways and was now gusting at such a pelt it almost lifted my front wheel off the ground several times.
My feet slushed around in a little puddle of water in the bottom of my boots and my soles, toes and heels were numb. The pathetic wool socks I'd worn were too thin. If I'd been out for a longer ride I would have stuffed heat pads in there long ago but now all I wanted to do was get home and do something more constructive with the day.
I walked through the back door, took my boots off, threw my gloves, socks and buff straight in the washing machine and went upstairs to pee - something else I'd been putting off doing all morning - the journey from the back door to the bathroom took an inordinately long time as I hobbled through the house on stilts, the fore- and heels of what used to be my feet, completely numb and hardened. My middle right toe felt like it had frozen into an ice-ball. I gently massaged it whilst sat on the loo, reassuring myself that I hadn't actually got frost bite.
Three cups of coffee later, I still hadn't really warmed up but I did make substantial progress towards building the wheels I am intending to ride on various events this year. My bike stood, muddy and dusted and trickling onto the kitchen floor, my Carradice looking very sorry, covered in a layer of grit, gradually drying by the radiator.
I made one big mistake today - I underestimated the weather. Days of snow an ice warnings that didn't materialise and I get one day of forecast "rain" and let my guard down, forgetting to check the wind chill and almost freezing my toes off as a result.
I couldn't feel sad about not riding all weekend. As I sat on the sofa on Sunday, pricing up my van insurance a friend stopped in and empathised that we are both so bored of freezing on our bikes.
I finished project wheel build. I didn't even go to the gym or have a run as I'd promised myself. I just sat through the day, dreaming of projects to come. Hoping that time wears well, that temperatures rise, that I'll get my mojo back for long distance, or anything.
Time this weekend has trickled through my fingers. I am sitting on the sofa again this morning, waiting for neighbours to move their cars so I can get mine out onto the ice and snow to take it in for its MOT and get rid of the fucking thing.
My first job today, therefore is to clear the road. Nothing more. Maybe file some emails whilst I wait for the temperature to rise. To be honest, I could just sit here on this sofa, waiting for the temperature to rise. That is the nature of my day. That is the nature of last week.
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