voyage avec mon vélo

One of my biggest passions apart from cycling is writing, poetry and the admiration of others scribbles with a pen or with keyboard. Sometime ago I set up another blog called the Lost Muse which features my work and the work of other artists that I admire. One thing that seems to be lacking is work about cycling. so with the aid of a bottle of red wine and my tongue firmly implanted in my check I have knocked up a poem about cycling. If anybody out there knows of any cycling poems I would love to hear of them.

Pedaling forth the spoken circles go

Amidst the rain, the wind and drifting snow

Cadence high, my derailleur set

Travels upon my bicyclette

Tyres on black top, bottles full

Pace lines, hill climbs, my turn to pull

Gears changed, New horizons found

Few dollars given for my weakened pound

Cycling now under the cloudless skies

RayBan's protecting my burning eyes

Bright southern sun and prairie dust

following wheels, with the ultimate trust

The event partaken, one hundred miles long

Wichita, North Texas, now long gone

Manchester this week back with the rain

Cycling in England is one F**cking pain.

Flat out in the Fens

This coming weekend sees me completing in a new sportive called 'Flat out in the Fens'. It is organised by the impressive 'Kilo to go' team that organised 'The Cheshire Cat' amongst other national sportives. Most Sportives are characterised my their arduous climbs and technical terrains.This one has neither.

Taking place on the longest day of the year the event appears to be more like an audax, with the top distance being over 150 miles.

With long straight stretches of roads and 'No climbing'.........I repeat 'No climbing'.

The biggest challenge is likely to be combating boredom, or retaining concentration at average speeds that I expect will be far above peoples personal bests.

Normally a momentary lack of concentration might send you into a hedge, or at worse an introduction to the 'Road rash Society', however The Fens are different. You are likely to end up in a dyke, or stinking bog, wishing you had packed your swimming goggles, and some strong cologne.

The Fenlands of England are as flat as heavily rolled bowling green, with undulations no bigger than what a miscreant mole might create.

After being spoilt by my beloved Yorkshire, I do find this landscape boring, however it does produce the most incredible skies that seem to dominate your visual receptorsMy initial intention was to complete the longest distance of 153 miles, but I am now being joined by my best mate Colin and some of his friends who are all local to the area.

I am lead to believe that their idea of a long ride is to cycle to the pub and back after drinking a gallon of ale. Although I am not disapproving of such hydration methods, there are no hedges on route.........I will let you figure out the rest !!!!!

I have already been informed that I will be pulling the whole way, a loyal domestique. I expect some of those in our pace line may require pacemakers too, and cushions strapped to their seats.

Still, all miles are good miles, I will have the opportunity to talk, cycle and take lots of Photographs for my weekend blogpost. It will be novel not to change gear too.

'St Tropez' in Yorkshire.

When I started riding Addy (My Scott Addict) I was very concerned about the feelings of my old bike 'Scott'. I did not want him to feel left out, or discarded, but he knew that my cycling ambitions far exceeded his own capabilities.
Scott has since showed me how fickle he actually is, as Joanne has now taken to riding him.
With a far lighter load he seems to have found some new life and is enjoying the female company. He no longer complains and seems to revel in new found attention. Maybe some of me has rubbed off on him? He has even allowed Joanne to dress him with new pink handlebar tape. Scott if you are reading this you are so Transparent!!!

During the week he asked me if Addy and I would mind going to the seaside at the weekend. He said the sea air was good for his 'derailleur'. Utter B***cks !!!!

However as he has been so good to me in the past, I let him have his wish and agreed. I knew really that he just wanted to show off his new pink livery. So on Saturday we cycled up to Bridlington
Bridlington is to Leeds what Coney Island is to New York. It used to be a fashionable Victorian resort, but has now seen better days. Guest houses once bristling with families enjoying weekend breaks, suffered at the hands of cheap package holidays.

The brooding North sea and inconsistent weather were no match for guaranteed of sun and the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. Now a lot of these gorgeous buildings are full of Heroin users, choosing a seaside setting for there addictions rather than high rise tenement blocks in West Yorkshire conurbations.

As the ressesion has taken hold people have looked closer to home for holiday destinations. Bridlington like a lot of other old English seaside resorts are thriving again, and trying to attract new visitors as well as re-engaging the old ones.

I personally like Bridlington.

If you look beneath its somewhat shabby appearance, it has a real character about it. Having a local fishing fleet it also boasts hundreds of quality 'Fish and Chip shops. No good for diets but a great treat and beautifully British. The beaches are clean, and golden and provide enough space for everybody to build sandcastles. Bridlington is a million miles from the cultural appeal of the French Riviera.There is no comparison with Nice or Monaco, but on every Friday and Saturday we have our own St Tropez. The popular 'fake tan' adorns the local girls, as they sip on their Pina Coladas in Cafe bars. Wearing last years fashion they exude their own brand of Yorkshire sophistication.

A contradiction in terms, but a nice one all the same.

David Hockney also saw the appeal, he loved this part of Yorkshire as much as he did California


Training Update
This week there were No sausages, but the diet is not totally back on track and no further weight lost. I did however complete 270 miles for the week as punishment to myself.
In my virtual bike ride from Beverley to Houston I reached Portland, Maine in the week, where it was a very pleasant 20 degrees. I thought this state had outstanding natural beauty and it is somewhere I would love to visit for real. Joanne asked me to say Hello to Patrick Dempsey who comes from Maine. He joined me for a few miles cycling, but could not keep up. I told Joanne about this and that he was not as 'fit' as she had made out. She laughed and told me she was not talking about his aerobic ability.

2897 miles completed and 1875 miles to go. Next stop New Hampshire.