So Sunday dawned bright and early, or so I'm told. It was minus 2 so I lazed in bed till 9.30 and rose for a relaxed breakfast. No need to rush, the little squids will still be there later.
By 12.30 the ice had melted off my seat so I donned the requisite thermals; a rather fetching shade of over washed grey (steady on ladies, control yerselves). Then a few stretching exercises as I'm not used to these ****ed rearsets yet. Now I'm ready for em.
Trouble is there's 20 miles of boring dual carriageway between me and the hunting grounds of North Wales. I while away the journey practising my traffic light GP launches, much to the amusement of small children, and the disdain of their mothers. Further light relief is provided by wiping the smug grins off flash t---s faces when they presume to pull alongside in their BMWs whilst I'm tootling. Silly boy, didn't your father ever tell you not to let your mouth write cheques your body couldn't cash.
There's still ice on the sides of some roads in the hils so I take it easy wherever the sun hasn't shone yet and stop for a ciggy and a warming cuppa at the infamous Ponderasa Cafe on the Horseshoe Pass. Many worthy adversaries littler the car park, but none are moving. Press on towards Rheag (any Welsh please forgive the spelling, but let's face it, we do let you speak yer own language now, but we still don't feel the need to learn it). Pass a few bikes on the way, but none pressing on. On the return journey however, I catch up to one who looks like he's trying a bit. Arse cheeks moving from side to side on bends, knee pointed groundward occasionally. Time to see if he's up for it. I shadow for a set of S bends (40 to 60mph) to see if he takes off out the other side. He does, but instead of toying and encouraging, I get it into third and open it up. I passed him too fast to be able to tell what he was on, but it was humble pie after I'd passed. Before I knew it I was braking for the next bend and glanced into the mirror in case he was trying a late braking effort, only to find he's already backed off and given up.
I really must learn to give them a glimmer of hope and encouragement next time, before I trample their dreams into the salty roads. Ah well ya live n learn.
By 12.30 the ice had melted off my seat so I donned the requisite thermals; a rather fetching shade of over washed grey (steady on ladies, control yerselves). Then a few stretching exercises as I'm not used to these ****ed rearsets yet. Now I'm ready for em.
Trouble is there's 20 miles of boring dual carriageway between me and the hunting grounds of North Wales. I while away the journey practising my traffic light GP launches, much to the amusement of small children, and the disdain of their mothers. Further light relief is provided by wiping the smug grins off flash t---s faces when they presume to pull alongside in their BMWs whilst I'm tootling. Silly boy, didn't your father ever tell you not to let your mouth write cheques your body couldn't cash.
There's still ice on the sides of some roads in the hils so I take it easy wherever the sun hasn't shone yet and stop for a ciggy and a warming cuppa at the infamous Ponderasa Cafe on the Horseshoe Pass. Many worthy adversaries littler the car park, but none are moving. Press on towards Rheag (any Welsh please forgive the spelling, but let's face it, we do let you speak yer own language now, but we still don't feel the need to learn it). Pass a few bikes on the way, but none pressing on. On the return journey however, I catch up to one who looks like he's trying a bit. Arse cheeks moving from side to side on bends, knee pointed groundward occasionally. Time to see if he's up for it. I shadow for a set of S bends (40 to 60mph) to see if he takes off out the other side. He does, but instead of toying and encouraging, I get it into third and open it up. I passed him too fast to be able to tell what he was on, but it was humble pie after I'd passed. Before I knew it I was braking for the next bend and glanced into the mirror in case he was trying a late braking effort, only to find he's already backed off and given up.
I really must learn to give them a glimmer of hope and encouragement next time, before I trample their dreams into the salty roads. Ah well ya live n learn.
