Cold – fine.  Wet – fine.  Windy?  Preferably not.  So when I woke up this morning and saw how windy it was outside my natural inclination, in the absence of other commitments, would be to bottle it and head for the gym instead.  However today was an ACG ride, and there were supposedly another four people expecting me to turn out, so bailing wasn’t an option.

As my preparations progressed, my fellow riders dropped like flies.  Well, like two flies anyway.  I faffed as one does, deliberated on my choice of layers, changed my mind as is my prerogative and ended up with my new favourite jersey under my windproof jacket.  Since the jacket converts into a gilet, I reckoned that gave me enough flexibility to cope with what I expected to find out there, and I wasn’t wrong.

I rode up to the Square in time for our 9:00am start, not loving the wind already.  For longer than I would have liked it was just me, sat on the bench, looking lonesome.  I was deliberating as to what to do if no-one turned up, and thinking longingly of the warm gym, whilst keeping rule 5 in mind, when the Boy Wonder rocked up, late as predicted.  Right then.  We waited a while longer to see if our third wheel would turn up but since he didn’t, and time waits for no man, it was time to be on our way.

I think the camera had fogged up a bit...so the signs weren't clear.

The wind was, according to the weather forecast if any credence should be given to such things, from the WNW.  Ish.  Which means that the sensible thing was to head out in that direction in the vain hope that we would then have a tail wind to blow us home.  Having been warned by GB (one of the deceased flies) that the Brean Down café might be closed for refurbishment, the most sensible option left open was to do my seaside loop.  The BW had never done it before – thus providing one of us with novelty value, and me with the luxury of not having to think to much about where we were going for the ride.

a much clearer sign... 😉

So we did.  We slogged our way to the New Castle at Kewstoke against the relentless headwind, taking a little comfort from the blue skies and sunshine.  Riding with the BW is not good for me.  For starters, it’s a little bit me and my shadow.  Literally – I could see where he was from his shadow.  I could see where he was, how he was pedalling, when he was free-wheeling…  And let’s face it, since he’s built like a Shleck, even if he did go in front, there’d be precious little advantage to be gained from drafting him!  However having him behind me, being aware of how fast he can be, and how young he is, and how neither I am makes me push harder than I normally do.  I know, pride is a terrible thing.  So by the time we dismounted for much needed coffee I was already kind of geknackert.  However a vat of black coffee and the thought of a tail wind to blow us home did the trick.

Time to ride again.  I think that side of the world, along that road from Kewstoke to Weston, probably never sees the sun from November to February.  A kind of West Country polar night.  The sun was out, but it was still far from high enough to break over the hill and reach us, so it was proper cold when we set off.  This was not helped by the fact that the first section is downhill, which is fun, I’ll grant you, but not warmth generating.  The BW found cycling over the patches of speed bumps very amusing.  Bless.  Anyway, we weren’t stuck in the dark for long, and we emerged into the sunlight near the old pier.

Weston Super Mare was looking practically attractive in the sunshine, unburdened by seasonal grockles.   There wasn’t even much traffic to play with.   It did look oddly bare without the Wheel though, which presumably has been put away for the Winter.  Just for fun, you can play compare and contrast with the piers.

the old pier

the new new pier

See, pretty wasn’t it?  Quite like the second picture if I say so myself.  Anyway…  The wind was as in our favour as it was going to get here, since, as might have been predicted, it had dropped a bit and moved round.  *sigh*.  The BW saw fit to inform me that he doesn’t mind the wind as it’s good training…and I let him live, which I think was good of me ;).

We went over Bleadon Hill the proper way as it was looking as if our ride might be shorter than I like and I figured it might as well have some gradient in it to make it worthwhile.  Inevitably Mr Shleck was out of the saddle and off…but when it comes to hills I know that the tortoise will get there in the end, so I did it my way.  Plus I can beat him downhill – who knew?  Proof that my descending skills are infinitely better than they used to be.  We arrived in Loxton with plenty of time to spare, and given the choice between the Webbington and home early, and Christon and Winscombe Hill, I bet you think I took the easy way right? Well I didn’t, so there :P.  I fancied some more hills, I love that road along the top of the valley, and I really like the idea of flying home down the bypass, so we went left.  Plus as I’ve said before, all rides must be 2 hours or longer *grin*.

Cycling time: 1:58:28 hrs
Distance: 31.43 miles.
Avs: 15.8 mph
ODO: 11182 miles

OK, so you’ll have to round it up to get to two hours, but it’s close enough y’hear?  And since BW had ridden to the start and then home again, he managed 67 miles, paling our ride into insignificance.  The hills went fine, both up and down, even Winscombe Hill, but it was the flat that did me in today.  That and my ego *grin*.

Actually on a more scientific front, I may have figured out one of the reasons I’ve been under-performing or over-suffering afterwards of late.  I’ve switched from my usual Torq Energy drink – which is an all-rounder – to trying pure electrolyte replacement drinks (Hi-5, Nuun).  Now the latter seem to work well for easier or shorter rides, but when it comes to hilly or hard, I think I’ve been suffering from lack of fuel.  Carbs to be more precise.  I think it may be time to stop messing with the tried and tested.  It wasn’t broken so it didn’t need fixing!  That’ll larn me :).