onionbagblog

Well that felt rather wonderful - rolling out of Wivenhoe on Sunday morning for a brisk bike ride out towards Brightlingsea.

Blimey.

Truth be told and the Giant road bike hasn’t seen any North Essex estuary action since the Great Escape. It somehow managed to side step the South London culling of the fleet, when I cut back on the bikes that I would need around these parts. The Wivenhoe Trail may be ace for my Essex MTB, but I don’t think that the Herne Hill track bike would have enjoyed the terrain around the Hythe.

And that really has been my main bicycling adventure since early autumn - back and forth along the Trail, en route for the daily dip. Alresford Creek occasionally gets a look in, always on the MTB, always at a leisurely pace.

Local road clubs have been sourced, and I am still keen to roll out with the good folk of Colchester Rovers one Saturday morning. But I have been conveniently finding an excuse not to saddle up and put sixty plus miles in the legs to start off the weekend.

I thought that maybe my racing days are over. I bonked badly on the banks at le velo for my final season of track racing. Rolling out with the Dulwich Paragon faired little better, with my King of the Mountain reputation (yeah, right…) receding as we approached the climbs of Crystal Palace.

But then for some unknown reason this weekend, my mind was telling me to take a spin on the road bike and see how the legs felt. Turns out it was the right choice - a trip down to the bike shed and the MTB has picked up a puncture overnight anyway.

Bugger.

And so out came the Giant, the cleats clicked into place and a lycra clad fool rolled out towards Rectory Road.

Oh Lordy.

Brightlingsea was within my radar. A working Sunday meant that I had just less than an hour for the ride there and back. Tourism of the North Essex Riviera can wait for another day.

Out of Wivenhoe, through Alresford (I think it was closed…) and then on towards the coast. My legs picked up the pace with the first few miles. I even found that I was hitting top gear and finding the right lines for the corners.

Twenty minutes later and the coastal smell of fish ‘n chips was wafting through the fresh Brightlingsea air. With the work clock ticking down back at base, I didn’t even bother to de-cleat as I turned around and put my pedals down for the return leg.

Even with such haste, a bicycle is truly the most majestic way in which to explore the delights of the countryside that make up this truly beautiful part of the country. Crossing the railway line at Alresford and you are presented with a picture postcard view of the Colne, slowly rolling back and forth towards Wivenhoe.

I may just leave my MTB puncture unattended for the next few days or so. I never was any good in getting my grubby hands around a bike repair kit. The road bike is back, and the estuary bike lanes are mine to explore.

Chapeau!