Either way, I dug out my spare set of tyres – silver stripes this time, different model – and put them on.  Only to discover the next day that the valve was faulty, and I had to (well to be honest I got hubby to) change the darn thing.  That rear wheel has been off too many times of late!  At least, with the shiny new and still relatively clean chain set, the whole process is less mucky that it sometimes is.

On to today.  The mob went back to school and, no sooner had they left (well almost) GW were back on the road.  We did my usual training loop, stretched a little, as I couldn’t, quite frankly, be arsed to think of anything different.  As it was it demonstrated that my knee would have benefited from more rest, and that carrying painkillers around with me is a good thing.  GW was off on one as ever, and I kept up for the first half before deciding that I didn’t need to be doing that and slacked off a bit.  To give her her due, she did slow down and stick with me.

Cycling time: 2:02:03
Distance: 32.36 miles
Avs: 15.8 mph
ODO: 5678

It was a very nice ride really.  I don’t suppose the weather will hold for much longer but for the moment it was warm and lovely.  Albeit a tad windier than I like, and sadly not behind us this time

In other news, the ACG kit has left the building!  How exciting is that?!  I’m not sure how long it will take to get to me, but the chances of it being here before the Cheddar Cyclosportive on September 19th have to be fairly high

Back to the early morning.  It was hard to figure out what to wear, what with it being dark ‘n all so it was really a question of relying on the weather forecast and crossing your fingers.  We joined the initially slightly daunting queue for registration but found that actually it was organised really well and moved pretty fast.  I left the desk with a panoply of things to carry and sort out.  A tag for my bag so as to collect it in London.  A number for the bike plus one for the jersey.   A ticket for the coach ride home and one to hand in to deregister on arrival.  It took a while to get this all variously attached and sorted, but shortly we were near the start getting our rider briefing.  Steve joined us there, making it a group of 4 who set off not long after 6:30, pretty much as planned.

Cycling through the streets of Bristol is not something I’ve really done before, so it was quite a novel feeling.  Luckily at that time of morning there isn’t a lot of traffic around which is just as well as we nearly came a cropper when missing a sign early on, causing much hilarity and u-turning to get where we actually supposed to be going.  That would be one of the times when I actually managed to un-clip on time…  We headed out of Bristol on the A4, towards Bath, which involved quite a lot of dual carriageway and wide road.  This is probably good for warming up, but did seem to mean we were going pretty fast.  Steve and George sat at the back chatting away whilst Kevin and I tended to be ahead.  We’d have been chatting but we were breathing…  It seemed to take no time at all to get to Bath, and I’m sure it’s usually further away than that.  Having been amongst the first away from Bristol and having also overtaken a fair few folk along the way, we then had company again when we started passing those who started from Bath.

Leaving Bath behind the road, though mostly nice, ceased to be reliably flat.  OK, this isn’t the hilliest route in the world, but there are a few long hills.  However there was also a great tail wind – which is practically unheard of – blowing strongly from the west.  Nigh on perfect for cycling and just what I’d been hoping for.  It was even forecast!  :)

I know this stretch of the A4 really well.  When I was at UWE (a long long long time ago) my Austin Allegro and I commuted (slowly) up and down it regularly.  I’ve even done it on a motorbike, albeit east to west.  I’ve done the odd bit as part of the White Horse Challenge.  Hubby’s family leave around here too.  It was kinda weird to be cycling the whole way though, with all the familiar scenery and places.   I think it helped make it more enjoyable though.  I played tour guide and told Kevin all about various bits of it, for which I’m sure he was very grateful.

I knew the first food stop was at Box.  I know the hill at Box.  I know there’s a layby at the top.  Which is where the food stop was bound to be, and duly was.  Complete with photographers of course.  Slow slog up, grin for the camera, and stop…  We stopped, grabbed coffee and supplies, used the portaloo, and I stuffed my arms into my bag.  Although it was warm enough when riding, it was quite easy to get chilly when stationary, which proved to be good motivation to get going again, and proved to be true all day.

The stretch from there to when we next stopped at Marlborough, in the very pretty Town Hall no less, was very scenic, quite up and down, but mostly quite pleasant.  By that time we had averaged over 17mph which was worrying me slightly.  I mean, I know the wind was in our favour, but that fast surely wasn’t going to be sustainable, and I really didn’t want to wipe out later on…  More coffee, and some jelly beans, and off we went again.  Up a couple of what I will describe as big hills, though some would no doubt argue that they weren’t really.  Like George, Steve and Kevin for example.  However after the last of these it turned out that that was pretty much it for going up in the world.  We cruised carefully past a disbanding party that had clearly taken place the night before and all of whom were slowly walking down the A4 back to their cars.  Judging by the state of some of them, I think it’s a party I’m glad I wasn’t invited too…and I’m fairly sure some of them shouldn’t have been getting in a car to drive home either…

The A4 from thereonin was wide, fairly straight, and….fast!   And, not to put too fine a point on it, a great deal of fun.  We all took our turns at the front, I avoided being dropped, and we reached our lunch stop at Theale, about 75 miles in, early enough for lunch to be practically second breakfasts.  It was a darn good lunch too, though I didn’t eat too much.  As it turns out by now I was suffering from cystitis and the last thing I fancied was an added dose of indigestion.

We headed off again with about 40 miles to go in somewhat gloomier weather.  A front must have come in because the wind moved, and got very gusty, the clouds gathered, and there was a bit of drizzle.  The nearer we got to London the worse the traffic got and the less fun the roads were, but it didn’t actually seem to slow us down much.  I was suffering with every bump, and trying to drink enough liquid to dilute the effects, which worked in the long run but not soon enough to please me.  Our final stop was about 90 miles in and although not everyone wanted to stop, I wanted/needed to – more coffee and the loo please.  While we were doing that, it flung it down, so my timing was pretty good.

The last 25 miles were notable mostly for the number of viscious speed bumps there seemed to be!  And the amount of traffic.  Although we stuck together, I was aware that being tired, I wasn’t possibly paying quite as much attention as I should be so I made a conscious effort to look out for myself – to look for the signs myself rather than following someone else’s wheel, to watch for traffic, and so on.  Avoiding casualty is a priority of mine…

Near the very end George and Steve found a more attractive pair and headed into the distance.  Not that they’re at all competitive at all.  Given that both of them had done sod all training it seems a tad unfair that they did the whole thing so easily…but I should be used to it by now.  That just left Kevin and I to negotiate the last bit, which always seems to take forever, especially when you arrive in sight of Kempton Park and then have to go ’round the houses to get in! *grin*.

We cycled in to applause, sunshine, and even posed for the obligatory photographer.  George and Steve emerged and joined us in shot, not wanting to be left out, but I like this one of Kevin and I.  Well, it was us that finished together.  Then it was time to look at the stats:

Cycling time: 6:13
Distance: 116.5 miles
Avs: 18.6 mph

Man.  I mean man!  Have you seen how fast we went?  Clearly that’s what a tail wind, a peloton, and a flattish route gets you.  I am so impressed with us.  Well, me at the very least.  I’m fairly sure George and Steve could have gone a lot faster, but Kevin seemed to share my jubilation.  We were very very fast!

Time to check in, put the bike into AMR’s tender care for the journey home, and to start the après-ride.  Being amongst the first 30 or so in, our bikes practically started the back to Bristol pile, adding to our sense of superiority We headed for the showers, and George and I both had a free sports massage.  I wasn’t really aware that my legs hurt until he started work on them…but I’m sure it was good for them.  There were some very funny sensations involved in having some of the muscles manipulated and I yelped at least twice, which provided great entertainment value for everyone else. Do male masseurs enjoy making female clients squirm?…

After that it was up to the bar for some rehydration therapy – medicinal you understand.  As I sat, drinking my lager, feeling fast, outside the heavens opened.  Really and truly and properly.  The fact that I wasn’t still out there cycling in that was just the icing on the cake…as the same can’t be said for nearly everyone else *grin*.  I know, smug is very unattractive isn’t it?

It was an AWESOME ride.  I’m fairly sure I should never do it again as it would be nigh on impossible to duplicate since the wind is never going to be that kind to me every again.  Again – awesome

So, we gathered on the edge of the sand covered Square (it’s Pageant, remember?) in early morning Bank Holiday weekend sun.  Yes.  Bank Holiday and Sun in the same sentence, who’d a thought it?  There was me (obviously), GB, MD, DMC, IH and KG – a fairly evenly matched six.  We did a fairly short, keep it simple, loop which included a coffee stop at the barely open Sweets cafe.  They kindly did us tea and cake and so forth, but weren’t yet up to KG’s bacon roll…heinous *grin*.  I had the usual can of Rio (fizzy fruit water) possibly just to attract the wasps that wind him up so much…  We keep telling him that if you kill them by swatting them, they give off a pheromone which calls in their mates…but then I keep telling my Mum that and I’m not sure she believes me either!

The weather was gorgeous, especially on the way out when the wind blew us across the Levels, averaging 17mph.  Going home was somewhat slower, but not a lot.  I did resist the temptation to race for home though, which I thought was very restrained of me…

Cycling time: 1:35:46
Distance: 26.80 miles
Avs: 16.8 mph
ODO: 5530

GB was flying today.  So much for keeping me company in taking it easy.  I’d have taken it a lot easier today if I wasn’t having to keep up with everyone trying to catch up with him!  Hardly saw him for dust….  Clearly very expensive bikes do actually make you go faster…either that or he didn’t want to be associated with our comparative mediocrity

The bike is now clean for a change, and I’ve even used some proper paint to touch up the odd chip and scratch.  It felt pretty good to ride today.  I definitely feel a bit higher up and that bit lower than before when I’m on the drops.  I was just as high when I came back as I was when I set out – result!  Changing gear also felt very smooth, although I didn’t put the gears under much strain – no big hills.  All good stuff.

There is this theory (and there are many on the subject) that tapering should actually be doing the same as usual but less of it.  By which I mean the same intensity training for less time.  So I only did 90 minutes at the gym yesterday instead of the usual two hours, and today’s ride was only 90 mins not two hours.  I’d like to pretend I was tapering deliberately and being all sensible, but that’s rubbish, it’s just the way it worked out, and it seemed like a good excuse to do a bit less!  But hey, it was tapering by my standards..

I’m looking forward to tomorrow, and am nearly all packed up.  I’m looking at it as getting to spend a nice day out on the bike, rather than as a sportive.  Well, sportives don’t usually include a lunch stop!  If anyone is listening I’d like a nice strong westerly wind and a reasonable amount of sunshine.  I know, I’m very demanding

PS: The Cycling Mayor, being now an “ex”mayor, is looking for some form of part-time gainful employment so if you have any decent suggestions…let me know…

This morning it arrived.  One less thing to worry about.  Torq delivers

As I cycled up to the Square to meet him I realised I’d forgotten to raise my seat post – I’d discovered I had gone down in the world towards the end of yesterday’s ride – so he arrived to find me with allen key in hand.  I don’t know why I bothered since by the time I got home I was even further down than when I set out.  Maybe a carbon seat post wasn’t such a good idea.  Something to chat to Andrew about tomorrow methinks.

Anyway, that had yet to happen, so we set off and headed down the A38 to Weare and up the easier of the two hill options there.  Well, there had to be some up.  Apparently.  As is ever the way, I was dropped instantly, but he was nice enough to wait for me at the top.  Pretty much the same pattern as was to be seen on every other hill today.  Consistency is important I feel *grin*.

From there we wiggled our way down to the Levels near Mark and proper pushed it all the way down the main road to Glastonbury.  Definitely no hanging around – by the time we reached our destination, we’d done around an hour at 17.1mph.  I could tell – I was dripping!  Odd how you don’t notice that until you stop and then suddenly it just pours off you.  Nice.

We sat outside Heaphy’s cafe as usual – they really do do exceptionally good espresso, and the freshly squeezed orange juice went down a treat too.  Somewhat disappointingly all the clientele seemed boringly normal, and not one of them was talking to themselves.  GB tried to suggest some form of hilly route home, fairly firmly tongue in cheek I feel, and received pretty much the response he must have expected – ie I laughed at him.

Instead we came back via Godney and Panborough, up Dave’s hill once again, and down into Wedmore.  Up the hill past the golf course (my idea – I was trying to keep the mountain goat happy) and then down Rug Hill back to Cocklake.  I didn’t push as hard for home as yesterday – he’d only have kicked my ar*e and besides which, I was little tireder today, with a little residual knee pain lurking.  Nothing like as bad as usual and just, I think, a leftover.  However we still managed a fair lick down there, and it was nearly as enjoyable.

We parted company in Cheddar, as he went to show off his new bike to all the grockles in the Gorge, while I headed for home in the same fashion as usual – a sprint finish down the bypass.  Lovely though his bike is (and it is – Lance should know), I’d only really be jealous if it was purple.  Which it’s not, so that’s ok then

Cycling time: 1:59:05
Distance: 33.22 miles
Avs: 16.8 mph
ODO: 5503

I got home and, once I’d stopped being pleased about the speed and gotten around to checking, realised the saddle had sunk down again.  Darn.  Ah well.  I really meant to clean the bike too but, best intentions and all that.  Maybe tomorrow…  Definitely this week sometime…  Well, before Sunday…

There – another good day at the office *grin*.

Anyway.  Our merry band spent the usual 10 minutes debating where to go, and we ended up doing my usual training loop, which is apparently much less familiar to everyone else.  This is good as I don’t like to bore people.  It’s also great for me as I don’t even have to think about where I’m going, and I know all the ups, downs, and bends.  This doesn’t mean I’m good at them I hasten to add, but there is at least no fear of the unknown.  Which leaves fear of the known, a wet and gritty  Winscombe Hill in this case.  SD had taken a detour and was due to meet us in Loxton, so I let the machismo head down the hill and preceded down at my usual panic stricken pace.  It was the first chance to try out some new braking techniques as explained to me in terms that I could actually understand yesterday.  Rear braking to slow down, front braking for stopping.  Simple enough even for me.  If I go through less brake pads as a result that’ll be no bad thing…it’ll be a cheaper thing…so it’s worth a go

On the road to Loxton we hit an enforced go slow.  Otherwise known as a slowly moving single cow shepherding road block.  We dawdled along, avoiding the fallout, bemoaning the effect on our average speed, for a good ten minutes.  Once released it was hard to avoid the temptation to head off like a bull at a gate (to maintain the bovine theme)…  Luckily SD was still waiting in Loxton so, no harm no foul, and we made it over to Mark fairly swiftly.  She then peeled off – something to do with a Pageant – and the four musketeers took the Burtle route to Sweets cafe.  There was plenty of wind about, doing a fine job of never being in the right place at the right time, until the final straight to the cafe.  Enjoying the push/relief, I made a break for it, leaving KG to give chase and cruise past me before the inevitable bend.  We are so juvenile *grin*.

Coffee was duly had, plans for seeing the Tour of Britain and doing the Cheddar Sportive were all discussed and advanced, and various people ate various fried things between slices of bread.  I did the can of drink + espresso thing.  Rehydration + boost, theoretically.  Besides which, I am not a hobbit, and do not need second breakfasts.  If I did, I would carry it with me in my little pocketses…

We came back via Westhay and Panborough as usual, before taking the next left to go up over Mudgeley Hill that way, henceforth to be known as Dave’s hill.  Well, John has a hill, so why shouldn’t Dave?  He’s the one who has been slowly introducing us all to it after all.  It’s a nice long slow climb, and it’s really nice at the top – quiet road, nice views, ups and downs – a huge improvement on the main road to Wedmore.  Once out of Wedmore we lined up to minimise traffic impact, and headed for home.  Down the dip at Cocklake, seizing the momentum to get up the other side…up out of the saddle, push and…I got the jump on KG and kicked my ar*e down the hill *grin*.  If you get going there you’re doing a good 33 mph by the time you run out of hill and are pretty much set all the way to Cheddar.  DM managed to catch me and hook on at some point and we blasted it all the way back which was immense fun.  GB would have approved *grin*.  It’s a good ride when I’m doing 25mph down there.  We would have waiting for the missing duo but we got stuck with a bus behind us as we turned right and there was no convenient way to let it pass even though we tried…so there was nothing for it other than to head for home and to not spare the horses, which meant more silly speeding stuff down the bypass.  Did I mention we were juvenile?  Or maybe it’s just me…*grin*

Cycling time: 2:01:56
Distance: 32.75 miles
Avs: 16.1 mph
ODO: 5470

That was a whole heap of fun.  As you can tell by the number of times I seem to have used the word fun.  Maybe I should go back and replace it with a better choice of adjectives?  However that seems a tad OTT, and besides which, that’s what it was.  Fun.  I do like going fast

The ride definitely felt smoother, which can only be down to the new saddle post, so that was interesting.  My knee didn’t hurt – which either means changing the cleats worked, or that it’s just one of those days when it didn’t hurt!  Nothing conclusive there then, but I do like pain-free  Imagine how much fun it might be when I’ve upgraded/replaced/repaired everything?  Oops, sorry, used the fun word again…

• I’ve gone through yet another set of brake pads and needed new blocks too.   On a related note, the brake callipers have started seizing so had to be loosened off.  Sometime soon I should replace both of them apparently.  With better ones.
• The gears were changing by themselves – I need a new chain and cassette fairly urgently – and it needs to be Ultegra/105 to match what is there already, so that will have to be ordered then fitted.  The cables had also loosened and have been tightened so at least changing up and down the front rings is now better.
• The handlebar tape had to be replaced, having met the ground one to many times.  I left mine at home by accident but I think the stuff I’ve bought from Andrew is nicer anyway.
• The headset bearings need replacing but it is apparently a non-standard size so was instead cleaned and re-greased.  Parts will have to be ordered then fitted soon.
• The wheel bearings on both wheels are a tad knackered, but the hubs have no adjustment to them and so the bearings need replacing.  Which may or may not be possible, so maybe I’ll need two new hubs instead.  Another work in progress…
• Sooner rather than later I’ll be needing a new chainset.  Andrew promises me that if I switch to a compact, as he recommends, I won’t lose my bottom gear so…
• My left knee has been playing up so we adjusted the cleats.  The handlebars are now a tad lower too, which I’m looking forward to trying out.
• And to end on a positive note – I now have a shiny carbon seat post.  I’m sure I’ll go much faster now! *grin*

I can see life is about to get quite expensive… Still, a lot of it will be a chance to improve things, rather than just fixing them, and Andrew is doing a stormin’ job so…well…it could be worse.  ;)

GB had mooted the idea of doing hills the night before.  Since I’ve been totally wiped out since I came back from France I wasn’t sure about this.  Well I went to the gym for a couple of hours on Saturday and was so tired when I came back I ended up asleep on the sofa for two hours!  However I was feeling marginally better on Sunday morning and since forewarned is forearmed (or something) the idea of hills wasn’t quite as horrific a one as it might have been.  Plus I was kind of curious to see how much damage my two weeks (make that practically three) of excess had done.

So when, after some discussion, we decided to go up the Gorge, I wasn’t too cross.  In fact I wasn’t cross at all.  And, to be fair, it wasn’t half as bad as I thought it would be.  It was, in fact, much the same as ever.  GB played mountain goat at the front, our hill-hating tourist proved to be anything but, and KG and I took turns in bringing up the rear.  Reassuringly the same as ever.

Once up the top it was proper cold and windy, and pretty hard to believe it was the middle of August.  Or maybe not considering the British weather’s tendency to not do what it’s supposed to do.  We pushed our way to the Rocky Road café which, as it turns out, in is in its last throes.  And they didn’t have carrot cake either.  The apple cake was ok, but not quite in the same league.  I do hope the replacement café turns out nice as it’s a good place to head to, to motivate you up those hills.  Bet they won’t do coffee and cake for £3 tho

We came back down into Wells and across the Levels to home.  There was a scary bit on the Burcott Mill road bit when I wasn’t paying attention, was just following the other two, and they slowed to a stop for an approaching horse and cart.  My back wheel locked, met gravel and…luckily I yelped, stopped braking, and it all worked out.  Bit of an adrenalin kick there…  Especially with the happy ending and all.

My left knee went in a big way not long after that and I was reduced to one leg pedalling for a while.  After some wiggling around of my left foot it did improve a bit which shows that I really do need to look at my set up again.  GB went off down the final straight like a bullet out of a gun leaving no chance for racing. Outclassed again *grin*. When, in Cheddar, he suggested heading off and doing more hills I might otherwise have been tempted, but I decided it would be unwise.  Besides which he’s so fast at the moment I’d have been lagging behind big stylee.  He is in training though, I’m not. That’s my excuse.

Cycling time: 2:12:46
Distance: 35.8 miles
Avs: 16.1mph
ODO: 5436

I’m surprised to see how fast we were going. Maybe that’s because GB was going so much faster that I just felt slow! And the wind did make it feel like a slog at times… Quite encouraging really.  Especially as I didn’t end up sleeping the afternoon away either so was able to go to the Crown at Churchill for a pint of Mendip Magic in the sun, and an impromptu fly past by the Red Arrows.  Sounds like a pretty good Sunday to me

Although it was overcast it was still pretty warm.  With the traffic absent and the roads to ourselves we were free to enjoy the great views, and to wildlife spot.  We saw buzzards, a kestrel, and an elegant sufficiency of sunflowers.  We passed others enjoying themselves as much as us – tanned leathery calves abounded, including “le calamar” bringing up the rear of the little peloton that passed us on one of the longer climbs.

Time: 1:54:19
Avs: 13.7
Dist: 26.26
Odo: 5260

For the first ride of the holiday it went pretty well.  Ok, not fast, but we were in explorer mode, not contador mode!  And it looks like the cycling around here is going to be pretty good

1st August. Sunday.
Apparently at 8.30am on Wednesdays and Sundays a cycling group sets out from the boulangerie in Lauzun.  How cool is that?  Well, not very if you turn up and there’s nobody there.   So Dad and I consulted the map and headed off on our own route. Well we were out…it was warm…it would have been daft not to.

The road to Castillones stretched away from us into the distance, wide and straight, in tempting fashion. And it was as nice as it looked.  Smooth, wide, all swoopy – ups and flying downs.  The few cars that passed did so wide and polite.  The exceptions to the rule always turned out to be English…  Actually the road surfaces are so lovely that the cars don’t make enough noise comiing up behind you.  And I wasn’t even wearing my mp3 so I can’t blame that.  Who knew there as a downside to lovely roads? *grin*.   I think I can live with it though

We were fair flying along, grinning all the way, as we approached the first point on our itinerary.  Castillones is a bastide town.  Bastide towns are generally on the tops of hills, which didn’t bode well.   However the climb to the top proved to be a long slow gorgeous climb.  With views and shade and a huge sense of relief that it wasn’t worse!

We found the central town square, and pulled up under an arcade at the café there.  A rather dour man at a table gesticulated and babbled at us – something along the lines of don’t park your bike there, we don’t make a mess here.  So we moved them, girded our loins and braved the lion’s den again.  Turns out he was in charge, but you’d have thought it was a different man who politely took our order. Well, ok, still a tad surly ’round the edges, but we got two coffees and and an orangina ok, which we duly consumed.  Shades of L2P

We headed out, prospecting for our route, which we found on the other side of the church. As we went down the cool, tree lined and thus evenly shaded, avenue, we spooked up two red squirrels, who played tag with each other, before we treed them.

Then it was more fabulous roads and swoopiness to Isigeac which was, we discovered, having a Sunday market.  We pushed our bikes through the narrow streets, attracting odd looks (us) and assessing looks (the bikes).   I think we came out on top.  Maybe.  Out the other side with a quick detour to check out the glass blower – average and expensive.. We were feeling very cycle tourish by now, all the fun and none of the pannier embarassment *grin*.

The weather, which had been overcast with spells of brightness, but warm enough, started ooming (that’s boding to the unitiated – or the verb “to ominous”) ahead of us.  Risk of thunder as forecast… The sky grew purple and almost orange at one edge, and we actually saw the lightening fork….. We headed for home as fast as we could, racing the rain.  We grew a little as we were irrigated on the way, which was practically invigorating and did make me giggle.   The skies darkened and the first fat drops started to fall as we hit the final straight.  ”Fly you fools!”.  It would have made a great photo

We got home, revelling in our close escape, and pulled into the garage as hubby arrived back with bread for lunch, and the rain started to fall in earnest. Timing is all

Time: 1:54:40
Avs: 14.3
Dist: 27.38
Odo: 5286

I can’t tell you how much fun it was. Awesome roads. When we were’nt going uphill we were totally flying And there were some long sublime downs…. Almost better than…well, ok, this is a family site  I’m already planning on going back and doing it again. And again. And again. And faster *grin*

I got the most perfect chain ring tattoo at one of our map spotting checks. Almost geometric mayan.   I left it and printed it onto paper when I got home, but due to sweat and sun cream it had blurred a little by then …

3rd August. Tuesday
We are staying near a little town called Lauzun, and if you visit the Syndicat d’Initiative, they will provide you with various walking and cycling maps, and charge you 50c each.  Which isn’t a lot, but since I’d checked out the website before we came, I’d printed out the “Circuit du Duc de Lauzun” and brought it with me.  If you do the whole thing it’s like 110km but it’s designed in such a way, whether intentionally or not, that you can cut corners all over the place.  So we decided to do a chunk of it and see how we got on.  As it turns out it’s mostly very clearly marked, with big yellow signs, some of which even have tourist information on, if you can be bothered to stop for long enough to read them.  It’s always nice not to have to stop and map check – though I had the map with me just in case.  Can’t imagine anyone doing routes like that around here, more’s the pity.

The Circuit is a bit of a tour of the local happening hamlets, round wiggly country lanes.  Well, ok, the hamlets are mostly pretty much sleepy affairs.  The closest we came to a “happening” was when the previously dozy sleeping dog at one corner went and got his mate and chased us off his property *grin*.  We were “bonjoured” by various friendly farmers, met a deer by the side of the road, and met an extremely fit (in both senses of the word) cyclist making going up hill look easy.  Which to him it probably is.   I was tempted to follow him and find out…but thought Dad might have trouble explaining where I’d gone to hubby *grin*

The undulating countryside made for lots of lovely views.  Nothing stunning per se, but just uncluttered simple rurality – very nice.  We had coffee and orangina (Dad’s a convert now) at Miramont – another bastide town – at the Café du Commerce, where the barman clearly found us vaguely amusing or bemusing, take your pick.

Time: 2:15:27
Avs: 14.5
Dist: 32.76
Odo: 5320

5th August. Thursday
Apparently all this cycling can be less than popular with your other half, and Dad suggested that we cycle somewhere where the rest of the holiday peloton could at least meet us for coffee.  After looking round the map we settled on Villereal, which was a realistic distance away down reasonably familiar roads, and about which the guidebooks had said nice things.  Yes, you guessed it, another bastide town.  Now there’s a surprise.  At least you always know where the cafe is going to be…

It meant getting to re-use the long fast straight roads from our previous trip which didn’t sound like a bad thing, and wasn’t.  In fact it was so straight, albeit with up and downs, that it almost got boring.   However the speed that the cars went past you at – due to that very straightness – tended to keep you on your toes, as did the blind  summits caused by the ups, as they can’t see you until they’ve crested the top, which is a tad hairy…   Dad had been dreading doing the hill up to Castillones again, and found it so easy he was convinced we must have joined it half way up this time.  We didn’t!  As we reached the top an old french monsieur, unloading his car, cried “Allez allez” to us, as well as something else encouraging, which quite made our day

We met the family as planned in Villereal where we duly sat outside and had coffee and, you guessed it, orangina.  It was a tad chilly when the skies clouded over and there was more than a little wind.  After a quick look round the main square and church we split up again and Dad and I headed to Isigeac.  Man was there ever a headwind!  It was a long hard slog, which at least stopped us feeling chilly, but could not precisely be described as enjoyable.  There were also a couple of long slow climbs, and some more badly behaved cars, so it was just time to put my head down and pull.

Reaching Isigeac and changing direction came as quite a relief.  We left town on a road that clearly belongs to the very old dog who was waddling down the middle of it yawning, and moving for no man.  The ride back was much nicer.  The road surfaces aren’t so good there, included that unfortunate resonance that deteriorating French roads seem to have which tries very hard to convince you that you have a puncture.  However it was much quieter, and the wind, if not behind us, was certainly less in our faces!  We stopped to watch a fox in a field for a bit, and also took yet another detour on the way home trying to take the “correct” route from Falgueyrat and failing dismally.  However we did get to see a very nice watermill and associated waterways, and it meant we actually approached Queyssel down the usual down, so it wasn’t exactly disastrous

Time: 2:05:03
Avs: 16.2
Dist: 33.88
Odo: 5353

As it turns out it was the wrong time of month to be doing this which may explain why I wasn’t really feeling it today.  If you consider that, the headwind and the recent wine appreciation, I think we did pretty well!

7th August. Saturday.
Time was more limited today as plans were afoot to do other things later, and besides which, the more time we spend out, the greater the potential for resultant grumpiness from the rest of the party, so we decided to re-do the route from our second ride based on the principle that we knew how long it would take, wouldn’t have to look at the map much, and really enjoyed it first time ’round!

However I think I may actually have been sweating rosé this morning, and a lot of those things that felt like ups last time definitely felt like hills this time!  It turns out that there’s a hill early on that is worse than the Castillones one, but, as we skipped it last time we went that way, we’d forgotten all about it!  Which did make the Castillones one seem even nicer than usual, but then that could just have been the prospect of extremely necessary coffee…  There was no grumpy barman this time, I almost missed him, but maybe if we’d tried to park our bikes by the wall again this one would have been just as grumpy, who knows?

I managed to get into the zone on the way to and out of Isigeac and we pretty much flew home, arriving home to a family who were mildly surprised to see us back so early!  See, aren’t we good?

Time: 1:38:00
Avs: 16.5
Dist: 26.83
Odo: 5380

Dad’s chain came off a couple of times today which annoyed him more than me – any excuse to stop and take a breath – but we were both pleased that our average speed was up again.  Not that we pay attention to such things.  Much…

9th August. Monday
This was one of those mornings when GB and I meet each other in the Square with great plans and decide that coffee in Glastonbury is a much better idea.   After the very enjoyable Fete in Lauzun the night before which involved a lot of drinking and eating and not a lot of sleeping, neither of us were up for much.  We looked at the map, picked a town that looked not too far away and that was hopefully large enough to have a café and set off.

We headed north only to find that all our landmarks had gone.  The house was no longer being held up by ladders, and the hat had been re-claimed.  We never did get to check and see if the boat had sailed off too   I was all tired and consequently all tensed up which ain’t great for going round corners.  I had to make a conscious effort to relax and I think my shoulders dropped six inches!  It was hard going and our break in Sigoulès which did, thank deity, have a café, was very welcome.  And it wasn’t a bastide town either – ooh, the novelty…which may explain why it was slightly harder to find the café though

We came home and twisted the route to take in the flying downhill from St Aubin de Cadelech to Queyssel which really was fabulous.  If you lived round here and knew the road better, man could you have some fun down there!  Even in our state of ignorance it was pretty darn good *grin*.

Various folk gave me funny looks today – the old lady in Sigoulès, the group of men by the side of the road – which reminded me that I’d forgotten to mention that women cyclists seem to be a rarity around here.  I don’t know why, maybe it’s a male territory thing…  If I lived around here I’d be cycling all the time, maybe then they’d get used to it?! *grin*

Time: 1:28:59
Avs: 13.7
Dist: 20.45
Odo: 5401

Unsurprisingly we were slow today.  And they’re slow roads too…which didn’t help.  But it was still a nice ride.  Better than no ride for sure.

So, in conclusion, we managed six rides in two weeks, and I didn’t go to casualty once.  Result!  Fab riding too.  Good for damage limitation on the waist increasing front, and totally sanity saving too.  I do love my bike

So.  Yesterday the ACG were out and about again.  A mixed group gathered in the Square and, after a wait to make sure the ever tardy KG wasn’t going to arrive, headed off towards Glastonbury.  (As it turns out he’s been ill, so we’ll let him off).  The group rapidly split in two, but luckily there were enough of us at the right levels to allow that to happen without anyone getting left on their own.  I wish it worked out that way more often…  Anyway, we arrived at the café at the bottom of the high street and I had my caffeine fix – a notably nice americano.  The others joined us a little while later, and we sat chatting in the sun for a while.  I think that’s one of the best things about the ACG – we laugh a lot.  Which is good for the soul

Eventually we had to leave, and once again, two groups made their various ways back.  The “fast” group pushed across the Levels, into the wind.  I know, I’m always going on about headwinds, but it wasn’t as troublesome as sometimes as my caffeine fueled legs were happy to take the lead.  I get to feel all powerful and capable that way – very good for the ego.  Dad was hoping we wouldn’t do our usual daft race down the Wedmore road but I couldn’t promise him that…which is just as well as we were as juvenile as ever.  I played leadout team for GB, allowing him to sprint for home and get over the line first.  To be fair, the rest of us did stop and wait for Dad who’d gotten stuck behind a tractor, so GB was deprived of an audience to cheer him over the line  Next time he tries to come past me I may have to head butt him…

Cycling time: 1:57:28
Distance: 34.2 miles
Avs: 17.5mph
ODO: 5196

So, that was Saturday.  Weren’t we fast?   That’s what happens when you avoid hills.  GB and I jested in very non-serious fashion about cycling again on Sunday…and then somewhat surprisingly we were both given leave passes to do just that.  So, as such opportunities should not be missed, he and I did it all over again this morning!

However it was a different route – since repeating yourself is wrong.  Firstly it involved wiggling down towards East Brent.  We ended up going that way having taken an unintended detour at Rooksbridge but, as is often the way, this proved to be a good thing.  As we headed back towards Uphill alongside the railway line we noticed that there were more spectators than one might usually expect for that line.  Ah hah we thought…and, as one anorak confirmed, they were waiting for a steam train.  We headed at speed to the next bridge along, where we joined an over-equipped motorcyclist to await the arrival of what turns out to have been the Duke of Gloucester (I know a man who knows these things).  It powered under the bridge, engulfing us in nostaglic steam, and we ran across to the other side, like a very fast game of pooh sticks, to watch it disappear off to the south.  A very good way to put a grin on my face – and it quite made my day  I even took a photo which I’ll try and post at some point…  And if we hadn’t detoured we wouldn’t have been in the right place at the right time and I would have even less to write about *grin*.

After that it was off through grockle infested WsM to the Castle in Kewstoke for more good coffee, more good chat, and then the usual route home.  GB suggested taking in some form of incline on the way home but by that point my legs weren’t feeling it.  Or rather they were, in painful knee fashion.  The right knee is coming out in sympathy with the left one now.  Misery loves company?  Also,  it being the second day in a row, with no need for such intense training, it felt like time to go home.

Cycling time: 1:56:47
Distance: 33.12 miles
Avs: 17.0 mph
ODO: 5230

It turns out we were much faster than I was expecting which just goes to show.  Not sure what it shows.  Something of significance of no doubt.  Probably that I should go cycling more often, right?