Sunday, August 1, 2010

The X Files

After training solidly for a number of months I decided to give myself a four day break from cycling and went to a place that would offer no cycling opportunities - Afloat on the Norfolk Broads.
This is our British equivalent to the Everglades in Florida only with No sunshine, No alligators, and No newly formed Oil slicks courtesy of BP (Bumbling Prat's) I did look out of my porthole each day looking for a pedalo, but alas my legs had to be deprived of circular movement.

The break was most enjoyable, but it was thirsty work which required a full hydration programme with cold beer during the day and red wine at night. Variety is important I think.

On my return to Yorkshire I felt so guilty about leaving Addy (My Bike) behind and not cycling that I really packed the miles in over the following four days completing nearly 250 miles.
One of my cycling trips took me to York where I had to go on the same road that I had tumbled over earlier in the year. Now as roads go this particular road would come in the 'good' category. Not a problem, fine, dry and flat with no pot holes or gravel traps.
When I went passed the spot I half expected to see something like a blue plaque in the road.
The sort you see on houses sometimes.
You know like 'This is where Charles Dickens first contracted Chicken pox' or 'William Blake had his first real snog here'.
I guess I wanted to see something like 'This is where Philip Shrimpton had his first major cycle crash'.
Maybe the local Authorities had thought about it but had decided that much more dramatic things were going to happen in my life.
Having safely got passed the plaque less thoroughfare I was slightly relieved at the lack of Drama.
So much so, that on my return journey the place offered me little by way of trepidation.
That was until I reached the point where the plaque should have been placed had it been considered.
At that very point my rear tyre decided to pop, My first puncture of the year.
It would have been an instinctive thought to consider new wording on a plaque, but my first priority was in fact to get the **** out of there as quickly as possible.
I did not need no Moulder or Sculley to tell me that that road was definitely haunted by some anti cyclist ghoul.
My Tyre changing rivalled the Red Bull Formula One team, and I was off running again within 9.2 minutes
The Next couple of days saw further cycling which included the final part of my Skins clothing evaluation. This will be covered by a future blog .
In three weeks time I will be in America and I may just compile a new UK X File to be evaluated.
Happy Cycling

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