The Golden Globe

If you ever got stuck in a lift in Leeds, London or Liverpool with three strangers what would you expect the 'Ice breaker' to be?
The answer is something that bookmakers would not even take bets on - The Weather.

We seem totally obsessed with talking about it.

Comments about the weather seem to have the same importance and promote the same passions as ones favorite football team.

When people snarl on monday morning, muttering that it was a 'bloody diascrace', its difficult to work out whether or not they are talking about Hull Citys woeful performance or that of the local weather man.

Daily courtesies have been hijacked - with the traditional 'Good Morning' being replaced by 'Hasnt it been cold lately' 

I have to confess with five apps on my phone relating to the weather I too have been influenced
Almost hourly looking to see how wet, windy and warm it may or may not be.

Whilst others might be gauging this phenomenon for the possibility of golf, gardening or alfresco gastronomy. For me its about Cycling.
The early season sportives have supplied weather conditions so adverse that I would not normally consider recreational riding.
High Winds, driving rain and plummeting temperatures were delivered in good measure, its been so grim.
However having forced myself to take part, I have now become conditioned.
Poor weather seems to have become part of my cycling arena.

If I was being reviewed by a Psychiatrist and they showed me association cards it would be easy peasy

Down hill Skiing = Snow
Beach Volleyball = Sunshine
Cross country Skiing = Snow
Sand castle competition = Sunshine
Snow ball Fights = Snow
Sailing = Wind
Kite Surfing = Wind
Wet T shit competition = Rain
Mud Wrestling = Rain
Cycling = Wind, rain , Freezing Cold
100%

Its not such a bad thing though - It takes away any deliberation.
Before I used to talk myself out of rides.
'Its far too windy'
'Its far too cold'
'Its too wet'
I now just go out and pedal........... and let the weather take care of itself.
If its poor,
I expect it.....If its better than poor
I smile because its always a bonus.

On one such recent day we took off to Dalby Forrest in North Yorkshire.
It was a chilly start, but soon we saw this Golden Globe in the sky which seemed to emanate a greater degree of light and some unaccustomed warmth.
Coats, and arm warmers were discarded, dark lenses were clicked into eye frames and perspiration was encountered.
After much debate we decided that the celestial object might be the sun, but none of us could quite remember what it looked like.

As Bobby was wearing his Arizona Cycle jersey with the sun brazened across the chest we thought that it may have been seen as some sort of Celtic offering of appeasement to nature.
That the Gods had seen his Cycle Jersey and blessed us.
What we all agreed on was that it was welcome.

A great day was had by all and other days soon followed.
Summer may have arrived as far as the Calendar is concerned but the Winter Gloves, booties and Coat are still in the hallway.



One of our American Mules Dani Hochleutner recently summoned up the weather far better than I ever could :-

The COLD just makes me angry, so I have learned to be well equipped.

The RAIN makes little difference to me, surprisingly. I simply adjust my speed and feel a bit like a little kid again.

The WIND. I looked up the definition of wind and it said "air in its natural movement" which sounds harmless enough. But HEAD WINDS and CROSS WINDS batter at my confidence and have me question my resolve. Thoughts like "go home", "just quit", "turn around" hit me with each peddle stroke. And then that infamous TAIL WIND whispers false confidence that I am better than I actually am.

So I learn something about myself every time I get on my bike. I learn how to be with the reality of who I am, in a world I can't control, and to adjust. Easily, calmly and thoughtfully I move into alignment with the elements of my resistance to becoming something better, faster, and stronger. And eventually I make it back home.
Happy Cycling

Cavendish a Yorkshire Man?

Mark Cavendish backs Yorkshire's Tour de France bid


Mark Cavendish and Ben Swift are backing Yorkshire's bid to bring the Tour de France to the county in 2016.

Cavendish, who won the green jersey last year for being the Tour's best sprinter, said: "My mum is from Yorkshire so I'm proud to be backing the Yorkshire 2016 bid."
Team Sky team-mate Ben Swift said he would love to see a stage of the race run in his home county. "It would be amazing to be part of the peloton through the Dales," he said.

The first two days of racing, the Grand Depart, are held in a new location outside France every two years.

The Yorkshire Grand Depart has a great ring to it !!!!!!!!!

The Yorkshire Tourism Agency called 'Welcome to Yorkshire' say that the route would take in Leeds, Scarborough, York, Hull, Sheffield and the Yorkshire Dales.

Yorkshire is competing against Barcelona, Venice, Berlin and Scotland for the right to host the 2016 stages. Stages were last held in the UK in 2007 when London and Kent played host.

Cavendish, who has won 20 Tour de France stages, believes the county's natural beauty will prove attractive to the race's organisers.

"The county would provide a stunning backdrop to the Tour as well as a real test for the competitors," he said. "I have fond memories of holidaying in Yorkshire, a lot of my family still live there and it would be fantastic if the world's greatest cycle race could come to Yorkshire."

Swift added: "It's special to say you've raced the Tour de France, I'm proud to be able to say I have. I would love to see the Tour come to my home county, and I hope Welcome to Yorkshire can make it happen in 2016."

More than 185 countries around the world show the Tour de France every year on 92 different television channels with the last hour of every stage broadcast live across western Europe.

Gary Verity, chief executive of Welcome to Yorkshire, wants the public to back the bid by signing a petition on their Back le Bid website.

"Some may see us as outsiders but we think Yorkshire has a lot to offer, not just our stunning scenery but the passion of our people and the expertise we have in hosting world class sporting events," he said.

Being a Yorkshire man I am totally behind and will do what I can to provide support please visit the
 Back le Bid website. and pledge your support

This Charming Man

A punctured bicycle
On a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet ?

When Morrisey wrote the iconic song 'This Charming Man' I am quite certain that 'cycling' was the last thing on his mind or was it?

Music can mean so many different things for, so many people. Who am I to question whether or not the erudite 'Smiths' front man may have actually known the difference between his deraillers and his front bracket.
I do believe that the opening to the song is pure genius and it can work in a number of different ways.

Does the punctured bicycle refer to an actual tyre 'puncture'?

Or could it be that the gradient of the desolate hillside has punctured the riders ambitions?

'Will nature make a man of me yet'
Surely this must mean that being 'at one' with nature allows you discover yourself - to become a man.
Or if you climb lots of hills, your fear of the more arduous aspects of cycling will lessen - you will become a better rider.
Not wishing do be sexist ....you will 'Man up'.

Anyway Mr Morrisey as well as banging out a half decent tune you have also got my brain working. Is that not the aim of art????
Enough literary stuff...........

This weekend saw my 15th consecutive day cycling.


Rather than look for an excuse to lie in or get a rest, Bob and I searched for some desolate hillsides of our own in the form of Dalby Forrest and the North Yorkshire Moors..................before finally heading to Scarborough.
It was a tough arduous ride but with the constantly changing scenery it felt like we travelled across a whole country.
Enjoy the pictures....Happy cycling

After a date with a young Filly I was soon bonking

After 77 miles of riding in 'Flat out in the fens' yesterday, I missed my undulations.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the opportunity to ride at a high Tempo for long periods of time, but this sort of riding felt a bit clinical.

I had total control, If I was hurting I could just slow down, it felt a bit of a cop out.

I missed 'The Devils Chimney' and its elevated cousins, I missed the clunk of the sound you get when you select a lower gear and realise you have no more left, I missed the combat, where some of the control belongs to the road and you have to fight against it to keep going.
When your climbing and it hurts, you cant slow down, you either work through it or stop.

To treat myself to my gradient deprivation I decided to venture out to 'Dalby Forrest' in the beautiful North Yorkshire Moors National Park.

Although I had been there with my girls, it had been in the car - I had never cycled there.

I reckoned the round trip would be about 100 miles.

The first part of the trip was great, a good fast pace from Beverley to the foot of the Forge valley, where the climbing really started.

When you are in a car you forget about most hills but do sometimes recall the more awkward ones.

The ones where your initial gear selection has been over confident and you stall.

Where you frantically scramble for first before you roll back onto the Range Rover behind you.

As I started climbing I had an awful sense of Deja Vu and then recalled some of the monster hills.

The Dalby Forrest Drive is a private Toll road and was principally created to service farms and the forestry commission, not for recreation.

Tarmac certainly was not wasted!!!

If there was a hill, the road just went straight up it.

After the first big climb I stopped at the top of the hill for a drink and to eat some dates

(Gels are all well and good, but with the packaging, and additives etc I see them as being a bit excessive. I try and use natural foods like bananas and dates etc)

As I was eating my dates a horse appeared next to me and looked at me with hungry, sad, and seductive eyes.

I was completely taken in and I gave her a date. She nodded her head in approval and flickered her long eye lashes. Before I knew it, I had given her the lot, after which she shunned me in exchange for some fresh dandelions.

By the time I had got through the Forrest I had completed 70 miles and countless climbs. The Fens were also catching up on me making my legs feels like they were stuck in one of their many bogs.

The homeward journey was a nightmare.

I have never 'bonked' before and just thought it was people exaggerating about a bit of tiredness.

How wrong I was !! I was totally 'F***ed' or 'cream crackered' as the cockneys would say.

The last fifteen miles I averaged 11 miles per hour. It felt as if I were towing a beer truck.

When I got home I had completed 108 miles with 7,000 feet climbing and over 7,600 cals.I guess those flat lands weren't so bad after all.