this profile show works on the left and home on the right.
14°C westerly
Mapmyride has updated their app. Now a week has passed and no broken routes appear in the gps tracking.
For 10 years I have ridden this route to and from work. In all that time I have never been certain why it takes of consistently longer to ride in than back home. Now I know. There is both a general climb in altitude and prevailing SW winds to make the morning route harder. Home is closer to sea-level than work.
9°C. Quiet.
Early morning, in the share change of sleep. It’s not quite silent- there is a man-made sound. A high pitched modulated note like a spinning metal wheel. Most probably a distant siren, its note wavering and reflecting from buildings on its journey to my ears.
Like so many nights, I probably need a banana & to read for a while.
Goodnight.
17°C westerly breeze, brisk
Used an app to track my Sunday bike ride. It ran alright to start with. I admit that it takes a while to learn the program, but it did raise other problems. It missed 11 miles off the route, also I can’t see how to pause it during a cafe stop. Still, there is some promise. The missing section was a loss of gps signal I’d say. Either that or some space warp/hyper-space effect occured.
13°C, very still
What a terrible night′s sleep. It’ll be over soon.
I found myself listening to the night. Distant motorcycles screamed up the A road. Closer by, an owl- but not one I recognised, only a solitary hoot- a lonely call into the still air. There was another sound, a coarser bark that was definitely not a dog. A fox I think.
17°C sunny.
Got a new phone today.
This is going to take some getting used to. I got a Samsung Galaxy Mini 2 in the end. For this post, I’m trying the touch screen T9 keypad. Finding the apostrophe in mid-sentence is rather tricky. Phones like this can cost tonnes but I chose the Mini 2. Physically more practical, though the keys on the touch screen are very small.
Impressive features are the GPS, wireless internet and mapping. Perhaps the lasting judgement will come from the valueof any apps, like this WordPress one.
26°C, no cloud ’till later.
September Airshow, 2012. It’s a long but easy drive and for the first time we got there to join a queue. Don’t know why it should be different this year. I have to say, upfront, that I don’t know why I’m less thrilled by this event this year. Even the 4 year interval hasn’t helped my dulled enthusiasm. It was nice to see the Vulcan fly over, we wowed at the noise that made your clothes flutter. The event was worth the trip, but only just. Perhaps the last for me.
14°C, light cloud.
Awake at the wrong time. I know it’s wrong because when I get up in the night at this hour my body seems almost drunken. Odd that.
Sleep cycles follow rises and dips, 2am seems the lowest of the dips. That’s the time when my body is so slow that it feels intoxicated. Later in the night, my consciousness remains high enough to seem slightly awake until dawn.
New school/old school crankset (credit: Wikipedia)
17°C, cloudy & light westerlies
It is in, the fix is in. This morning I put a new bottom bracket bearing in the race-bike. Will ride soon to test it out and try out the larger inner-chainring. It’s now 42-53, a smaller jump than before. That should put an end to the triple shifts that I often am forced to do when shifting chainring.
22°C, cleared by lunchtime
It’s dark earlier here. Much darker and sudden. It goes with that heart sinking realisation that a holiday is over. The sun touches down in Scotland at something like 21.10, here it’s half an hour earlier at least. How deflating. What would it be like to live up there in Scotland?
I asked some locals during my camping trip where folks fit screens on their windows to keep the midges out. Their answer was “to be fair, there are not many time you can open your windows in Scotland”. Perhaps the late evening are compensation for the much darker winters. But so what, they have the mountains & glens. I’m still intoxicated by all of that. Is there any way I could do just a year up there to see whether I could do it.
I have been hiking with Rosie in the Highlandsagain. There is a lifetime of holidays in those hills. Such holidays cost barely any more than living here- camping is costs about £5 per night and other needs would cost the same down here. I drove back on Friday thinking over what it is that is so beguiling.
Rannoch Moor in the scotch mist
The bleak Rannoch Moor was thick with Scotch mist. Mountains I knew faintly loomed out of the mist, sometimes with skirts of lacy ragged clouds. There are few roads across that strange landscape- the A82 was straight, but distorted by harsh winters of ice and lengthy snow cover. Tall reflective posts marks the road’s edges- presumably sometimes it’s the only way to know where the road ends and the moor begins.
I stopped a few times to take photos and take in the atmosphere. Soft drizzle penetrates clothes and camera. A few minutes pass and the midges gather, some to cloud around others to bite. They seems to prefer eyelids and neck. You have to move around to evade them, stand still and these slow flying insects catch up with you easily.
As if the landscape is a conscious entity, it draws you in with a spell and wants to swallow you up. It was so hard to tear myself away on Friday.
19°C, light cloud with a SW breeze.
There is a great upland route near Glen Finnon. It’s a horseshoe of peaks that includes two Munroes, a long undulating ridge and magnificent views of glens, mountains including Ben Nevis, and views out to sea of the isles of Eeig & Rum. I could find no proper campsite near the route’s start so I chose a spot for a wild-camp. It was fairly near the road on a col that looked deserted except for a trainline that carried a steam-train twice a day.
With a site selected, I put up the tent rather later than usual after cooking & eating supper first. Discretion is the rule here, put up the tent at sunset & take it down as soon as you can after sunrise. I bedded down at about 10pm and read for a while. The ground was a ripe breeding ground for midges and some got into the tent & bugged me while I lay there reading my book. Some of those midges are still there, adding punctuation to the story.
Later in the night, probably about 2am I was woke suddenly to an animal sound. A loud deep sound that was quite percussive. Despite choosing a spot out of view for humans, it wasn’t so hidden from deer.
I’m still naive about deer, I lay there heart thumping when the sound came again. A sudden burst of air somewhere between a grunt & a snort. Clearly the sound came from a big pair of lungs. My fear cortex ran overtime & I could picture a scene where a herd was making its way along old tracks that they have used for decades. All it would take is a slight disturbance and they would gallop in the dark in fright. There I lay, in a tent made of light thin fabric and only a summer weight sleeping bag for protection. Deer hooves are sharp, they use them for defence. These thoughts occupied the front of my mind. Strangely in all of this, Rosie my trusty dog wasn’t too bothered.
I decided to take the situation onto my own hands and got out of the tent with a torch. Good, they weren’t in immediate sight, so I scanned the horizon and hillsides with the beam. The stars shone brilliantly, the midges bit my bare legs but only one pair of eyes shone back in the darkness. After a short moment, even they were gone. Relief, they have fled. I stole a moment to look up at the filigree milky way and Cygnus blazing brightly overhead while the midges finished their meal.
I did eventually settle back to sleep though woke once more to pee. This time, peace, I could enjoy the image of a thin cresent moon next to the fixed brilliance of Venus as a morning star. There was another planet nearby but I don’t know what it was (probably Jupiter).
A big day lay ahead, a very long walk was the reason to camp in such a place so I grabbed more sleep.
The day went on from there as planned.
Micycle 