Yes, that was my early morning wake-up call again today, another thigh-busting climb out of the Wye valley, leaving below our fourth night accommodation. Monmouth was welcoming , interesting and lively - none of which could be said of our hosts the previous evening.
With bitching left in my slipstream I trundled along on what proved to be one of the most enjoyable phases of the ride so far.
On the many, many occasions that I sat pondering this ride over the previous months, one snapshot kept appearing to me - a quiet country road, sun just coming up, friendly locals, and a tail wind.
Full house!
I think this beautiful part of the journey was my snapshot developing before my eyes.
Rolling hills to either side of a relatively flat road, a gentle sun just staring to illuminate the scene and a series of locals waiting to catch the bus into town.
There was someone waiting at the end of every little lane. Old farmers in their tweed jackets and ties, young students clutching folders, ladies with shopping bags to fill. Each one bade me a cheery good morning - it was just like something from Cider With Rosie.
I was glad of those 'make your heart glad' images still nestling in my head, because I was about to need them to chase away the less pleasurable things that were a to unfold...
I lost Nev, or Nev lost me - the jury is still out but evidence in the form of road atlases, and direction notes from previous evening will be considered. Nev has ruled sat nav evidence as inadmissable. They may as well send me down now!
Then my chain jammed, I almost fell off and in freeing said chain jam, jammed my finger into a few teeth of the big chain ring. So, my blt was garnished with a touch of Halfords Dry Lube oil and a drizzle of my very own A Positive - yum.
But that painful little incident was positively pleasurable compared with the shocking mountains I had to climb this afternoon. They were humongous. They put 35 minutes on my final 15 miles and my legs were shrieking at me by the time I rolled into Clun - "What the hell do you think you're doing to us" they yelled, and they had a point.
What's going on? Each successive county has tried to outdo the last with the ridiculousness of its mountains. But in this twisted competition I think Shropshire takes the crown. My 60 miles today seemed like 160 and then, good old Shropshire showed me its little slogan on the county boundary sign - 'Shropshire - county of hills' Well it's not something to be proud of is it??
If you want me I'll be in the bar, and I may be a while.
Jez
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:Clun Shropshire
Blimey - A+ Blood lube for the bike chain - this is serious youth! With all these hills your calf muscles will be like mountains themselves. Hope your are ordering 3 shredded wheat at the B&B's. Expect you will be soon be passing us in the North West mate. It's bloody well raining here so get your cycling cape ready.
ReplyDeleteYpur blogs are excellent mate - you should write a 'proper' book about your biking exploits, you already have the title...