Blogfromthebarn

Lean mean racing machine ? no... not really...



It seems many months ago (it was) that James convinced me to strap my size 11s into the clips and take a ridiculously fragile bicycle up a Mallorcan mountain. Inspired by that success (trans. did not (quite) die) I foolishly suggested to my loved ones that a racing bike might be something for Santa to consider around Yuletide. Sure enough, come Crimbletide ChaCha and Mrs Stuffy conspired to present me with a shiny, lightweight cycle constructed, apparently from filigree, cobwebs, fairy wings and and a sprinkle of pixie dust.

Sadly it was not until late January that the desired combination of circumstances occurred to enable me to take to the tarmac. The requirements were... not raining, snowing, freezing or dark.

I strapped myself into my fetching black leggings and cycling gear and paused for a moment in front of the mirror, I've been looking for an image which might give a sense of the full awesome effect of wrapping 100 kilos of curry, bacon sandwiches and fine wines in nylon, lycra and spandex, this was the closest I could find. (Incidentally 'Meet the Robinsons' from which this comes, is a much underated movie in my view).

I can't pretend that I felt entirely comfortable setting off on my maiden voyage, the majority of road users seemed oblivious to the risks to life and limb of driving too close to a nervous, wobbly, wide-load but the longer I survived the more I enjoyed the workout. At times I attained speeds approaching those of an asthmatic sloth and I had a nice rest when I managed to acquire my first road-bike puncture, the result of trying to jump the kerb, thinking like a mountain biker not an elite member of the peloton.


Hey ho, a fun first outing and as the springtime sun starts to make it's presence felt after our delightfully dank and drizzley winter perhaps I'll try it again. Now, where's that puncture repair kit ?

posted by Stuffy @ 2:00 pm