A return to the road bike on Sunday morning.
It’s been far too long.
The tourer has become my default comfortable ride. The roadie meanwhile was getting up to no good stored away and not putting in the kms.
Various reasons are behind this.
I’ve yet to find my cycling mojo this summer. An unfortunate run of punctures has made me a nervous rider of late.
And so I cleated up early and… almost fell off.
How do bloody cleats work once again?
I took it easy climbing up Ten Penny Hill.
I made it out to the lanes and away from the traffic. Now it was time to push the pedals and see if I still had it in me.
Just about, Jase.
The route was unadventurous – my usual Estuary Wilds circular tour.
A gunshot fire on the run in from an aggressive scarecrow was mistaken for the sound of a puncture.
That’s the kind of rider I have become of late.
A serious gardening session followed.
We’ve reached the stage where everything needs a damn good tidy up at least twice a week.
But we’re rarely around for a full week.
The wisteria took a serious trim.
Anna overdid it a little with the bay bush.
My poor parched lawn didn’t get much love from the flymo.
Anna disappeared for her silly golf. I got myself cleaned up and headed out to the village fete thing taking place.
It was rather charming.
Incredibly low key and amateurish in the very best sense of the word. I found myself with some very decent folk underneath their gazebo enjoying a pint of some rather strong lager.
I made the schoolboy error of not doing the milk run first.
The shop was closing at 4pm and we needed supplies for the Bran Flakes in the morning.
I reluctantly made my excuses.
I caught the second half of the Russian match, and then had a random work shift.
Disco Darryl and I caught up for a Town Hall Tapes after the penalty shoot out.
I experimented with the recording wearing Anna’s Star Trek style work headset.
We had a stereo recording for once.
But it’s all about the content, right?
A little more football, and then another run of work shifts through until 11pm.