The blog has been surprisingly quiet for the past couple of weeks. I think the training runs proposed by Sean worked well earlier in the year but have probably now finished as the faster riders peel off to race and the potterers carry on pottering.
Two weeks ago a couple of us westerners made the effort to get to the start in Brighouse for 8.30 but found just ourselves there. We then battled round with a windy ride over Isle of Skye.
Last week I went to the start at Denholme and agin the only other person there was Vicar. Still, we had a pleasant run to Cracoe & back. We spotted Grimpy out by himself - does anyone have any news or results of John's trip to the World Champs on 31 Jan?
This Sunday the forcast was for bright sunshine and a stiff north-westerly breeze and I'm happy to report that we got both. Robin had gone out on his own but was diverted by The Condor coming over Cock Hill and came with us instead from Hebden Bridge out through Burnley. From my viewpoint riding behind them, it seemed like The Condor was no less than a half-wheel in front at any point. Still, I was grateful for the shelter and it got me through Whalley feeling fine. Robin then announced a pressing lunchtime appointment back home and turned early while the twins & I followed gorgeous empty roads (including one big dipper that really should be on Blackpool seafront) out to Slaidburn. The road back through Tosside is 8 miles all downhill and, with a strong tailwind, is what best bikes were made for.
After I'd been pleading for mercy on Ingrow, Nige told me off for climbing too fast up the old road from Oxenhope over to the windmills. Still, I was chuffed to do 85 miles and have enough energy left to walk down the pub afterwards. Mind you, I was alseep on the sofa by half way through the film that evening ...