Went for a bike ride last night with my London to Brighton team member. This was the first time I have taken my new road bike out for a proper spin, so didn't want to stray too far from home in case things didn't go too well.
We discussed the route, and agreed on our usual 10 miler (the short route) and that we would do a biggun on the weekend.
Part way through the route, he kept darting off, randomly taking different turns, with no explanation. I would follow, as a team that starts together stays together. Before I know it, I am lost, at least 10 miles from home and it is raining. He says he knows where we are, and that it is not that much further.
As we plod on, the miles start to creep up. We are now 11 miles into the ride, and now still far from home. What is he up to. I keep following.
Then he gets a puncture. Right outside this random country pub, which is nice.
I befriend the landlord, get my card behind the bar, while matey boy is outside trying to get his wheel off to perform repairs. I pop outside with a pint of real ale in hand for moral support. He is butchering his £130 rim with a multi tool as he forgot his tyre levers. (Note, I knew I had no tools but was not that fussed as we weren't going that far, originally
)
He was trying to borrow teaspoons from the pub, use lolly pop sticks, anything to get his tyre off. I chatted with the landlord and he said a lot of cyclists use the route and someone should be coming round soon who should have tools. I thanked him for his advice and ordered another pint.
No sooner as I stepped outside, there was this fairly presentable young lady cyclists with thighs that could crush a canteloupe mourning that fact that she had stopped to help, and that matey had successfully snapped her tyre levers trying to get his tyre off.
I tried in vain to get him to stop, and just come on the pub for a few ales, to plan the next steps. He persisted with his lolly pop sticks. So I rang his wife, and asked her to brink a list of tools to this pub in the middle of nowhere. She agreed, but would be at least 1.5hrs as she had to take the kids places. Now 7pm. We set off at 5pm. 1.5 hrs to wait with nothing but the bar for company.
She arrived at 8:30 with the tools and he fixed his bike quickly. I settled up my tab, filled up my water bottle and we got on our way.
Wifey specifically said that he should take us the shortest route home as it was getting late, he had to go to work. So he took us the long way round. I'm now seeing signs for villages that I really didn't want to.
And it started getting dark. Just as we see a sign for a village that adjoins Luton I start getting my hopes up, but he swerves into a right hand turn, no explanations, to go up a chuffing great hill, heading back to the village we had the puncture in
I lost it. FFS where are you going to now man???? It's like a wild goose chase.
It was a very silent and awkward ride home. He "bonked" around 8 miles from home, me a little while later. The last 6 miles were torture. Dark, raining, no energy.
I prepared for a 10 miler, brought no tools, didn't eat more than a small bowl of pasta before we left. He hadn't eaten anything more than a cheese sandwich at lunchtime.
Next time I shall pick the route, do a gear checklist before we leave, and have designated "refuelling" points.
And the mighty distance covered? 25 miles
Unless the "bonk" was to blame, London to Brighton next week will be an epic fail. Mind you it didn't help getting flu and pneumonia right in the middle of the training schedule.
We discussed the route, and agreed on our usual 10 miler (the short route) and that we would do a biggun on the weekend.
Part way through the route, he kept darting off, randomly taking different turns, with no explanation. I would follow, as a team that starts together stays together. Before I know it, I am lost, at least 10 miles from home and it is raining. He says he knows where we are, and that it is not that much further.
As we plod on, the miles start to creep up. We are now 11 miles into the ride, and now still far from home. What is he up to. I keep following.
Then he gets a puncture. Right outside this random country pub, which is nice.
I befriend the landlord, get my card behind the bar, while matey boy is outside trying to get his wheel off to perform repairs. I pop outside with a pint of real ale in hand for moral support. He is butchering his £130 rim with a multi tool as he forgot his tyre levers. (Note, I knew I had no tools but was not that fussed as we weren't going that far, originally
)He was trying to borrow teaspoons from the pub, use lolly pop sticks, anything to get his tyre off. I chatted with the landlord and he said a lot of cyclists use the route and someone should be coming round soon who should have tools. I thanked him for his advice and ordered another pint.
No sooner as I stepped outside, there was this fairly presentable young lady cyclists with thighs that could crush a canteloupe mourning that fact that she had stopped to help, and that matey had successfully snapped her tyre levers trying to get his tyre off.
I tried in vain to get him to stop, and just come on the pub for a few ales, to plan the next steps. He persisted with his lolly pop sticks. So I rang his wife, and asked her to brink a list of tools to this pub in the middle of nowhere. She agreed, but would be at least 1.5hrs as she had to take the kids places. Now 7pm. We set off at 5pm. 1.5 hrs to wait with nothing but the bar for company.
She arrived at 8:30 with the tools and he fixed his bike quickly. I settled up my tab, filled up my water bottle and we got on our way.
Wifey specifically said that he should take us the shortest route home as it was getting late, he had to go to work. So he took us the long way round. I'm now seeing signs for villages that I really didn't want to.
And it started getting dark. Just as we see a sign for a village that adjoins Luton I start getting my hopes up, but he swerves into a right hand turn, no explanations, to go up a chuffing great hill, heading back to the village we had the puncture in
I lost it. FFS where are you going to now man???? It's like a wild goose chase.
It was a very silent and awkward ride home. He "bonked" around 8 miles from home, me a little while later. The last 6 miles were torture. Dark, raining, no energy.
I prepared for a 10 miler, brought no tools, didn't eat more than a small bowl of pasta before we left. He hadn't eaten anything more than a cheese sandwich at lunchtime.
Next time I shall pick the route, do a gear checklist before we leave, and have designated "refuelling" points.
And the mighty distance covered? 25 miles
Unless the "bonk" was to blame, London to Brighton next week will be an epic fail. Mind you it didn't help getting flu and pneumonia right in the middle of the training schedule.
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