My easter present to myself is getting my grubby little hands on "The Vanu".
I am a future-motor-home owner.
Laughing.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
It's off to the Flatlands
This morning I jump in a hire car and sweep myself and the lovely childlike Anthony off to the Fens to start a new project. It is quite exciting although the prospect of leaving TSK behind, not so much.
I am placating myself with the thought that I am leaving to find us a new nest, one which will keep us warm, hold our stuff save us the 2 and a half hour journey back and forth between the two locations every weekend and give us the opportunity to make money out of the new project.
Once I have found a place, TSK will probably join me, along with all the bikes and toys for a new future of fun and excitement. The joy is, that when we return to our home roost, we will have a whole new range of exploring to take up again, and we might have made some money out of the place.
If we can only get rid of the fleas...
They have been haunting us for quite some time and on Sunday we played a game of move all the furniture and spray - everywhere. My ankles are so bitten that I explained that if this doesn't work I will be buying a Dyson. The next move is to strip the carpets out of the house so at least we only have to get fleas out of the furniture.
After treating the whole house with insecticide, we went out walking with our bikes. It being too windy to hit the ridgeway on our first mountain-biking session since the disease, we rode around on the "plains" which we hoped would include enough undulations to keep us entertained and drain the water away.
We were wrong. Several fields filled with nothing but tussocky grass and cows' deep hoof prints prevented us from riding so we pushed, stalled and pushed our bikes again. I hate cows. Cows are gits. For the rest of my life I will relish in eating beef.
It wasn't all bad, there were some good tracks and the weather was fine and sunny. We discovered butterfly woodland - a nature reserve that did indeed blossom with yellow and red and blue as decorative eyes fluttered through the budding trees at us.
There's a lot of things I'm going to miss about Wiltshire - but definitely not its cows.
Sorry no photos, I forgot the snapper :(
Miles cycled in March: 203
Miles cycled in April: 17
I am placating myself with the thought that I am leaving to find us a new nest, one which will keep us warm, hold our stuff save us the 2 and a half hour journey back and forth between the two locations every weekend and give us the opportunity to make money out of the new project.
Once I have found a place, TSK will probably join me, along with all the bikes and toys for a new future of fun and excitement. The joy is, that when we return to our home roost, we will have a whole new range of exploring to take up again, and we might have made some money out of the place.
If we can only get rid of the fleas...
They have been haunting us for quite some time and on Sunday we played a game of move all the furniture and spray - everywhere. My ankles are so bitten that I explained that if this doesn't work I will be buying a Dyson. The next move is to strip the carpets out of the house so at least we only have to get fleas out of the furniture.
After treating the whole house with insecticide, we went out walking with our bikes. It being too windy to hit the ridgeway on our first mountain-biking session since the disease, we rode around on the "plains" which we hoped would include enough undulations to keep us entertained and drain the water away.
We were wrong. Several fields filled with nothing but tussocky grass and cows' deep hoof prints prevented us from riding so we pushed, stalled and pushed our bikes again. I hate cows. Cows are gits. For the rest of my life I will relish in eating beef.
It wasn't all bad, there were some good tracks and the weather was fine and sunny. We discovered butterfly woodland - a nature reserve that did indeed blossom with yellow and red and blue as decorative eyes fluttered through the budding trees at us.
There's a lot of things I'm going to miss about Wiltshire - but definitely not its cows.
Sorry no photos, I forgot the snapper :(
Miles cycled in March: 203
Miles cycled in April: 17
Friday, March 30, 2007
Stunted blogging
Easter is coming and that involves planning... trips to south wales
First there's a trip to the Fens for a week working for the new client. Hopefully blogspace will not be left behind. Tonight we are being seen-off by colleagues with a big Italian meal. Yay for pasta!
There are so many maps to buy.
Then there's the vanu to pick up. They have discovered the full service history - I knew we were right to buy that one. It will not be used for Easter weekend because I don't want to be stuck in traffic with all those other muppets. I will be used for extensive garden-shed-buying the week after.
A big Ahhh please for Uncle Tom who accidentally wiped his hard drive last week. A bigger Ahhh for my cuz who had 3 university essays to rewrite in as many days. He will take one lesson with him from college... never rely on dad's technology.
Miles cycled in March: 253
First there's a trip to the Fens for a week working for the new client. Hopefully blogspace will not be left behind. Tonight we are being seen-off by colleagues with a big Italian meal. Yay for pasta!
There are so many maps to buy.
Then there's the vanu to pick up. They have discovered the full service history - I knew we were right to buy that one. It will not be used for Easter weekend because I don't want to be stuck in traffic with all those other muppets. I will be used for extensive garden-shed-buying the week after.
A big Ahhh please for Uncle Tom who accidentally wiped his hard drive last week. A bigger Ahhh for my cuz who had 3 university essays to rewrite in as many days. He will take one lesson with him from college... never rely on dad's technology.
Miles cycled in March: 253
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Another rung
On Saturday we cycled to Marlborough.
Nothing new about this really, except this time we had a task to complete. A tail wind pushed us all the way which was annoying since I needed no inspiration to get there and all the time knew that getting home would be extremely difficult. Our average speed to Marlborough was 14 mph compared to my usual average of 12.
Close to our destination, the Trep got hungry but, despite efforts, there was no food in any of the little villages. Our hosts did, however, supply us with two hot steaming mugs of tea to accompany us on our quest of looking around, in and under the 27 VW Transporter vans, cruely kept within the confines of their fence.
In the end, it came down to a race to the line between a yr2000 van with a muckier engine and weird feeling gearbox but better bodywork and a stainless steel exhaust and a yr 2002 van with a few rust spots, a dead-looking exhaust but a cleaner engine that started straight away.
First we took the newer one out which was OK to drive. We went in, to make an offer but grumbling about the bodywork, the exhaust and just that we liked the other more. The dealer shrugged his shoulders and dug out the 2000 model from the back and gave us the keys.
It rocketed out of the steep driveway and zipped up the road. This one was much more fun to drive. There was little fuel in it so we ragged it a bit then came back to base to do the deal.
After a good half hour of chatting about the trans-Canada trip with the cyclist-salesman we headed off home, leaving the van to be kindly tended, touched up, serviced, MOTd and all the rest for our reunion in two weeks time, holiday weekends and excursions to Peterborough permitting. The ride home was all the more difficult for that roaring headwind, excitement and a huge hunk of chocolate cake consumed at Applebys tea-room in Marlborough before leaving.
Miles cycled in March: 208
Monday, March 19, 2007
What to catch up on first
Our second Open5 Series Navigator race did not go to plan. The Trep was sick - and had been for two weeks. The doctor promised the Trep that the cough would only last one more week so the Trep reluctantly took the decision to spend the race taking a leisurely, un-stressful walk around the Yorkshire countryside whilst one half of Team Pamplemouse completed the event as solo male.
I walked for 4 hours along the ridge of Sutton Bank (photos) which is near Thirsk, about 30 miles North of Rippon on the A1. Sutton Bank is the name of a 1 in 4 road which climbs up a steep craggy embankment. The cycling "milk race" has climbed it many times in its history as one of the classic climbs to do in the country. Cars towing caravans are banned from using it and there are statistic signs warning that the road has been blocked 137 times so far this year by truck drivers that just don't realise what they're letting themselves in for. There is a hairpin bend one half of the way up which our brand-new shiny rental van handled without pain and the lady in the Rover in front exclaimed, "I was hoping you would push me up there" when we got to the top. I was tempted, I surely was.
It was with reluctance that I saw TSK off on his way. Part of me was jealous that he was racing alone. Part of me knew he would do better without me and didn't like that. Part of me knew that if I rode in my own category, I'd do better than us as a team and didn't like that because I like to ride with him. Part of me was looking forwards to a day of walking and wished he'd leave so I could get on with it. But that was mainly because I wished he was with me. Walking alone is lonely. Walking with dogs, fine. Walking with a loved one, fine. Walking alone - there's no-one to share the joys with.
However, the day was bright and I could manage to walk. I filled with glee as I realised I could manage to go further, further. Then I descended to a village in search of food and to time my arrival back at the van to greet TSK (with the keys) and get a rest before setting off on the long drive back. The deal is always that he reads the map and I drive - particularly when he's been racing and I haven't.
Back at the car park I was treated to the tail end of a classic mini-car rallye up Sutton Bank and laughed as people were treated to a bit of old fashioned speed as other cars were held up behind the little revving, struggling, smoking classic cars.
The final result of the race, TSK got 390 points without me and arrived back 6 minutes late. He was 20th. Quite high up the field compared to our usual score. So, as I embark on the second of my 70 mile ride to work weeks, I'm looking forward to the next Open5 series and praying to stop coughing long enough to go for a run... just one before the next race would be nice.
I walked for 4 hours along the ridge of Sutton Bank (photos) which is near Thirsk, about 30 miles North of Rippon on the A1. Sutton Bank is the name of a 1 in 4 road which climbs up a steep craggy embankment. The cycling "milk race" has climbed it many times in its history as one of the classic climbs to do in the country. Cars towing caravans are banned from using it and there are statistic signs warning that the road has been blocked 137 times so far this year by truck drivers that just don't realise what they're letting themselves in for. There is a hairpin bend one half of the way up which our brand-new shiny rental van handled without pain and the lady in the Rover in front exclaimed, "I was hoping you would push me up there" when we got to the top. I was tempted, I surely was.
It was with reluctance that I saw TSK off on his way. Part of me was jealous that he was racing alone. Part of me knew he would do better without me and didn't like that. Part of me knew that if I rode in my own category, I'd do better than us as a team and didn't like that because I like to ride with him. Part of me was looking forwards to a day of walking and wished he'd leave so I could get on with it. But that was mainly because I wished he was with me. Walking alone is lonely. Walking with dogs, fine. Walking with a loved one, fine. Walking alone - there's no-one to share the joys with.
However, the day was bright and I could manage to walk. I filled with glee as I realised I could manage to go further, further. Then I descended to a village in search of food and to time my arrival back at the van to greet TSK (with the keys) and get a rest before setting off on the long drive back. The deal is always that he reads the map and I drive - particularly when he's been racing and I haven't.
Back at the car park I was treated to the tail end of a classic mini-car rallye up Sutton Bank and laughed as people were treated to a bit of old fashioned speed as other cars were held up behind the little revving, struggling, smoking classic cars.
The final result of the race, TSK got 390 points without me and arrived back 6 minutes late. He was 20th. Quite high up the field compared to our usual score. So, as I embark on the second of my 70 mile ride to work weeks, I'm looking forward to the next Open5 series and praying to stop coughing long enough to go for a run... just one before the next race would be nice.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Getting back to it all the time.
Cycled in February: 95 miles
The possibility of meeting with the obnoxious teenager again and the prospect of a blue sky got me out on the bike early again this morning and I rode up onto the downs, down (bizarely) back into the valley then up again to work. The sky was indeed blue and the traffic much less threatening in the dry though I did claim myself room in the road to allow for the occasional gust of wind blowing me two feet to the right from time to time.
Just as I'm getting on a roll with this extra-mileage commute I am off to Germany on business soon and I fear everything will fall by the wayside. The determination to get back to it when I return remains strong.
With a TSK coming to stay, who knows what I will get driven to achieve. Things are certainly looking up.
If it works, this video made me laugh...
The possibility of meeting with the obnoxious teenager again and the prospect of a blue sky got me out on the bike early again this morning and I rode up onto the downs, down (bizarely) back into the valley then up again to work. The sky was indeed blue and the traffic much less threatening in the dry though I did claim myself room in the road to allow for the occasional gust of wind blowing me two feet to the right from time to time.
Just as I'm getting on a roll with this extra-mileage commute I am off to Germany on business soon and I fear everything will fall by the wayside. The determination to get back to it when I return remains strong.
With a TSK coming to stay, who knows what I will get driven to achieve. Things are certainly looking up.
If it works, this video made me laugh...
Monday, February 12, 2007
The long way round - is my number up?
Today is the first day since my pre-Christmas crash that I felt like riding the long way to work. I looked out of the window to see a bright blue swathe of sky (I had a lie in courtesy of last week's intensive bid). By the time I moved Green out of the bike-room, locked the door and walked outside, it was grey and rainy - everywhere. The waterproofs went on.
I saw Jeff riding the other way and called good morning to him. He was oddly bemused to see me going the wrong way to work but understood I am sure. At 62, Jeff is the fittest man in our department - self included.
The heavens gradually opened further as I approached and turned up Elendune Road where my longer ride got more enjoyable as the traffic died away. Still the rain sneaked through the slits in my helmet and I felt the gradual encroaching damp in my leggings from the odd drip off my coat and splash from my mudguard. A polo driver squeezed past at high speed, grinding away someone's carefully mowed grass verge with his nearside wheels. An Audi driver swung into the drive way to give me 4 ft to pass. Elendune Road is only car-wide. I stopped for the Milk tanker coming down the hill and he passed with a wave. On the hill climb a porsche cut it fine because he was too busy avoiding a fallen branch on his side. I managed to ignore him.
Back on the main road I descended to my village and had a moment when a driver decided to pull out in front of me as I descended on a wet road with wet brakes. He got some moderate abuse as I was genuinely scared and knew he'd seen me but chosen to ignore me. I know I shouldn't do abuse - not when I live so close to work but 30 seconds later a car door opened in my face and a spotty teenager emerged complete with skin head and baseball cap. I could see the spiny blonde bumfluff of skinhead under his grimy hat.
Un-remorseful, clueless ****. I wish I'd blown the bloody door off.
I got to the bottom of Brimble hill.
'Pooter was dead. Not just misbehaving - dead.
Fuck fuckity fuck fuck. All those extra miles (all six of them), all that extra abuse, all those extra dangers, all that extra rain. Worthless according to a little black block of plastic.
I got to work. Someone has discovered my secret closet of warmth to change in. Someone else's clothes were in my cubicle. Damn. I began to wonder if this is all worth it.
Then a friend came and talked bikes to me. He'd had two close calls this morning too. Was there something in the air? Were we all just that little bit tetchier because of the weather?
Only now, do I remember that as I got to the bottom of Ellendune hill, I passed a well dressed (green wellies and wax jacket well-dressed) lady walking her dogs the other way and at the exact moment we made eye contact and said good morning, the sun came out and blazoned us with daylight through the grey. Somebody turned the lights on and two complete strangers acknowledged each other verbally and that, amongst other things, is one of the treasures that makes my ride to work all the more worthwhile.
Off to fit a nu 'pooter.
Miles cycled in February: Approximately 85
I saw Jeff riding the other way and called good morning to him. He was oddly bemused to see me going the wrong way to work but understood I am sure. At 62, Jeff is the fittest man in our department - self included.
The heavens gradually opened further as I approached and turned up Elendune Road where my longer ride got more enjoyable as the traffic died away. Still the rain sneaked through the slits in my helmet and I felt the gradual encroaching damp in my leggings from the odd drip off my coat and splash from my mudguard. A polo driver squeezed past at high speed, grinding away someone's carefully mowed grass verge with his nearside wheels. An Audi driver swung into the drive way to give me 4 ft to pass. Elendune Road is only car-wide. I stopped for the Milk tanker coming down the hill and he passed with a wave. On the hill climb a porsche cut it fine because he was too busy avoiding a fallen branch on his side. I managed to ignore him.
Back on the main road I descended to my village and had a moment when a driver decided to pull out in front of me as I descended on a wet road with wet brakes. He got some moderate abuse as I was genuinely scared and knew he'd seen me but chosen to ignore me. I know I shouldn't do abuse - not when I live so close to work but 30 seconds later a car door opened in my face and a spotty teenager emerged complete with skin head and baseball cap. I could see the spiny blonde bumfluff of skinhead under his grimy hat.
Un-remorseful, clueless ****. I wish I'd blown the bloody door off.
I got to the bottom of Brimble hill.
'Pooter was dead. Not just misbehaving - dead.
Fuck fuckity fuck fuck. All those extra miles (all six of them), all that extra abuse, all those extra dangers, all that extra rain. Worthless according to a little black block of plastic.
I got to work. Someone has discovered my secret closet of warmth to change in. Someone else's clothes were in my cubicle. Damn. I began to wonder if this is all worth it.
Then a friend came and talked bikes to me. He'd had two close calls this morning too. Was there something in the air? Were we all just that little bit tetchier because of the weather?
Only now, do I remember that as I got to the bottom of Ellendune hill, I passed a well dressed (green wellies and wax jacket well-dressed) lady walking her dogs the other way and at the exact moment we made eye contact and said good morning, the sun came out and blazoned us with daylight through the grey. Somebody turned the lights on and two complete strangers acknowledged each other verbally and that, amongst other things, is one of the treasures that makes my ride to work all the more worthwhile.
Off to fit a nu 'pooter.
Miles cycled in February: Approximately 85
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