Ripped & pulled

14°C,Wet warm & windy


camped in the lee of woods, winds gusting above 30mph

Poor attempt at a few day’s hiking this week. All I have is some very wet kit and a torn ligament. The ligament ripped in a motorway service station not somewhere heroic like a mountain side. If I’d been on a mountain, I would not have been wearing my smooth-soled driving shoes. If I’d been on a mountain, I would have needed rescuing, that state it’s in.
Then what? I was pulled over by the police for suspected no-insurance. She phoned my insurance company and they confirmed that I’m covered. Good outcome; but how many times will I get pulled before the Police database is updated?

Arrow: like new

3°C, clear & the sun’s coming up.

freshly unwrapped.

New bike: well, it cost as much as a new one, it looks new and I’ve got to put it together today. That latest cold is guilty of stopping my cycling for over two weeks now.

I’m starting to get annoyed at the poor WordPress service, this morning I have made 3 attempts to complete a post started yesterday which resulted in no response from WordPress’s servers.

Single speed, two wheels

12°C, clearing, ENE winds:


Should I order a new bike when I get that winter bike back? I’m considering a frame with track drop-outs which mean it would have a hub-gear (like a modernised sturmey-archer) or even a single speed rear wheel. With such a frame it’s easy to swap wheels to get a change of gearing- it’s even possible to use a fixed wheel. the big advantage is reliability and a large saving in weight. Dérailleur gears are over a kilogramme heavier and less reliable. So, it’s fairly easy to think up reasons to get one. The next problem is where to get one- mine needs a 59cm top-tube. Otherwise my knees hit the handlebars or toes catch the front wheel.

 


Single speed bike

Fixed wheel bikes are dead trendy right now-especially in London ( but it is flat there- so a natural choice). All this machine needs is a change of bars, add a rack/guards & it’s ready to go.
Shopping round it’s priced at £350, if it fits, I’ll have one.

Torn.

15°C, clearing, light Westerly


How to use next weekend. I am badly torn; at one end are the Welsh mountains plus a good weather forecast. I hate this feeling.

Where is it?

13°C, heavy rain


It’s about time Mercian Cycles finished that re-spray. I really miss that bike, we’re getting into darker days, there is lots of rain so a summer race bike is really unsuitable for the daily commute.

Stink

13°C, heavy rain


‘Smelly’ cyclists asked to leave New Forest pub:BBC. How did they manage to stink after only 6 miles. I’m not even going to ask why stop for a break before they’ve warmed up. I can only guess that one of them was wearing a wiffy jersey from their last ride.autumn

Scotland

19°C, sunny & with a decent breeze


I think I have fallen in love. This time, it’s with Scotland. what was so special- it was the days that cleared unexpectedly, the robin who came for breakfast, the same robin who landed on my shoulder; what about the golden eagle too? Talking to strangers on summits was relaxed, easy and rewarding. Wandering across Rannoch Moor in the mist and rain was sublimely atmospheric.
I can feel an unbreakable thread has been tied between me and Scotland. I’m going back, I don’t know how soon, but I will be. I left there the other day with a big feeling inside.

   Nirvana (Tom Waits)
Not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose,
he was a young man riding a bus through North Carolina on the way to somewhere.
And it began to snow.

And the bus stopped at a little cafe in the hills and the passengers entered.
And he sat at the counter with the others, and he ordered,
the food arrived.
And the meal was particularly good.
And the coffee.

The waitress was unlike the women he had known.

She was unaffected, and there was a natural humour which came from her.
And the fry cook said crazy things.
And the dishwasher in back laughed a good clean pleasant laugh.

And the young man watched the snow through the window.

And he wanted to stay in that cafe forever.

The curious feeling swam through him that everything was beautiful there.

And it would always stay beautiful there.

And then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board.

And the young man thought: "I’ll just stay here, I’ll just stay here."
And then he rose and he followed the others into the bus.

He found his seat and looked at the cafe through the window.

And then the bus moved off, down a curve,
downward, out of the hills.

And the young man looked straight forward.

And he heard the other passengers speaking of other things,

or they were reading or trying to sleep.

And they hadn’t noticed the magic.

And the young man put his head to one side,
closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep.

There was nothing else to do,
just to listen to the sound of the engine,

and the sound of the tires
in the snow 

©2006 Tom Waits

That just about covers the feeling left by the whole trip.

Look here for some photos: Flickr

Nantlle & hafn

  & hafn14°C, light cloud


Returned from Nantlle, Snowdonia yesterday. Not as tired as I usually am on getting back. this trip was interrupted by rain so I did fewer walks. The ones I did do were on routes selected for the lower summits because cloudbase was so low. I got some decent photos though and found a very likeable site in Nantlle.

Hafn is the welsh word for those gulleys on mountain ridges that allow for plunging views downwards, in this picture- looking down on rising cloud.

What’s the matter with you?

24°C, sun. Cycle 74 miles


Similar distance to last week’s ride, same destination, but today felt far easier. Funny how exercise works out like that.
This green and pleasant land is turning yellow (except my lawn). I credit the daily bowl of washing up water for that- and the length of the grasses.

muggy

27°C, muggy & large spots of rain after a hot week.


Back from camping. Had to get away after a week worth escaping from. Mountains are such a good way to clean out such feelings.

Photo taken just after I’d swam in there. Climbing it hot work on days like this, going up is hottest. At the summit, I found a nice soft heathery patch between rocks and slept for an hour. Purple is the season- purple foxgloves in big munches; purple flowers on some heather and towering thistle with purple heads just opening. Give them another week.