Sunday 7th April. Lovely climb out of Brutton and dropping down towards Evercreech. Lovely line into the right hander - run the right edge, let it drift across through the bend to exit on the left. This can go fast. Hang on. This isn't a closed road. Get back left. No space. No line. This isn't going to be good! Lying at the side of the road. The inside of a helicopter. A lady doctor using a fishing hook in my lips.
This is the game that we play. I'm playing again. That crash, all 37mph exiting over the handlebars to land on my face of it, has taught me something. I'm addicted to bikes. I'd been back from hospital for under a week when I sorted out replacing the torn clothes, a new saddle and new overshoes. So many have asked me since; "Are you back on the bike at all?" They don't understand. You have to - don't you?
For sure I spent the first few rides looking far too closely at the lines through downhill bends, feeling every twitch of the bike, making it harder by braking too much. Descending from Pen-y-Pass (the top of the Llanberis Pass) in late August there was that certain knowledge that to miss the sharp left hander would be a seriously bad idea - so I was slow. And then, about a couple of kilometres down the road, I realised I'd left my cycling glasses up at the car-park at the top. Back up we went. Good climb (from the Capel Curig side if you're interested). Got to go down again. That left hander's still there. But I know I can do it. So I let the bike go. The fun is back. Threading the wiggles below down to the Pen y Gwyryd hotel I had confidence again. The bike would stay upright. I'd stay on it.
A couple of weeks ago, dropping down Longbottom, back over 60km/h for what may well have been the first time since April, I actually felt in proper control. Mike followed me down. And theres the rub. I didn't see me after my crash - well, not till I'd been sewn up in the Bath facial reconstruction unit, but he did. It's not ourselves that, perhaps, are most affected by our crashes. It's seeing the consequences. The week before I had the crash I'd had a warning. Descending Cheddar Gorge I over cooked a right hander (the one into the Reservoir Walls section) and went off-roading. I got between the first two boulders, bunny hopped one and then did a second bunny hop over the ditch to put the bike back on the road - upright - in front of a car - whose driver had seen enough to slow sufficiently to deal with my inevitable crash - which didn't happen - and so missed me. Any passing biochemist could have taken my adrenalin count at that point to conclude that I must be trying to cheat in something. It was straight - and by the time I'd reached the bottom I was smiling at my fortune and enjoying threading road in control. I didn't take my warning. I rather suspect that, had any cyclist been following me down, they'd have taken one for a month or so. Mike didn't see that one either.
This is the game. Saturday I went back up to 70km/h for the first time since the bang. Mike wasn't far adrift - and he was being slow because his handlebars were a bit out of alignment. Last night we discussed how feasible the Strava section past Sandford Quarry might be. Needs a powerful climb and a fast descent. We concluded the current record is beyond attack. If you were going quick enough to beat it we can't see how you'd stop at the T junction at the bottom. Sense? Maybe - but still planning for speed. It's not just the pushing yourself to the limit to see how well you can climb hills that forms the addictive bit of our game. Are there cyclists out there who don't get a buzz out of weaving a descent down the perfect line?
It's rediculous. I'm now enjoying descending like I never did before the crash. The docs did warn me that a bang on the head changes your judgment! I still can't see me enjoying the drop off the north side of Mam Tor - that's just horrible; loose and wet, but Brockley; Burrington, the A5 down to Bethesda, from Bala up then down to Trawsfynedd - these are fun.
And uphill? There's the benefit. Mike's realised he's not immortal and is going a bit slower on the downhills. So he's been commensurately quicker on the ups. Saturday he did the lead out work up Cheddar. I followed him to 1.5km from the top line - and took off. For me it was a new record; 16mins 42 seconds. I know that's hardly competitive, even for a 49 year old, among the battling elite. But in my book it's good. So agreed the several cyclists we depressed on the way up - and the guy driving the Subaru - we overtook him as well, though he was held up at the time. Mike also took a new personal best. By about 4 minutes, following me in by about 15metres. So now he's as quick as me going up (more or less), I'm as quick as him going down - definite development, but it won't last, and he's only quicker than me on the flat all the time he wants to be. I'm just going with a 30 year age difference in my defence. The rest of the family remain convinced we're both lunatics - though daughter is starting to show some interest in road bikes...
The lunatic, the climbs, some descents and the articles are back. Comments, as ever, invited.
DP
This is the game that we play. I'm playing again. That crash, all 37mph exiting over the handlebars to land on my face of it, has taught me something. I'm addicted to bikes. I'd been back from hospital for under a week when I sorted out replacing the torn clothes, a new saddle and new overshoes. So many have asked me since; "Are you back on the bike at all?" They don't understand. You have to - don't you?
For sure I spent the first few rides looking far too closely at the lines through downhill bends, feeling every twitch of the bike, making it harder by braking too much. Descending from Pen-y-Pass (the top of the Llanberis Pass) in late August there was that certain knowledge that to miss the sharp left hander would be a seriously bad idea - so I was slow. And then, about a couple of kilometres down the road, I realised I'd left my cycling glasses up at the car-park at the top. Back up we went. Good climb (from the Capel Curig side if you're interested). Got to go down again. That left hander's still there. But I know I can do it. So I let the bike go. The fun is back. Threading the wiggles below down to the Pen y Gwyryd hotel I had confidence again. The bike would stay upright. I'd stay on it.
A couple of weeks ago, dropping down Longbottom, back over 60km/h for what may well have been the first time since April, I actually felt in proper control. Mike followed me down. And theres the rub. I didn't see me after my crash - well, not till I'd been sewn up in the Bath facial reconstruction unit, but he did. It's not ourselves that, perhaps, are most affected by our crashes. It's seeing the consequences. The week before I had the crash I'd had a warning. Descending Cheddar Gorge I over cooked a right hander (the one into the Reservoir Walls section) and went off-roading. I got between the first two boulders, bunny hopped one and then did a second bunny hop over the ditch to put the bike back on the road - upright - in front of a car - whose driver had seen enough to slow sufficiently to deal with my inevitable crash - which didn't happen - and so missed me. Any passing biochemist could have taken my adrenalin count at that point to conclude that I must be trying to cheat in something. It was straight - and by the time I'd reached the bottom I was smiling at my fortune and enjoying threading road in control. I didn't take my warning. I rather suspect that, had any cyclist been following me down, they'd have taken one for a month or so. Mike didn't see that one either.
This is the game. Saturday I went back up to 70km/h for the first time since the bang. Mike wasn't far adrift - and he was being slow because his handlebars were a bit out of alignment. Last night we discussed how feasible the Strava section past Sandford Quarry might be. Needs a powerful climb and a fast descent. We concluded the current record is beyond attack. If you were going quick enough to beat it we can't see how you'd stop at the T junction at the bottom. Sense? Maybe - but still planning for speed. It's not just the pushing yourself to the limit to see how well you can climb hills that forms the addictive bit of our game. Are there cyclists out there who don't get a buzz out of weaving a descent down the perfect line?
It's rediculous. I'm now enjoying descending like I never did before the crash. The docs did warn me that a bang on the head changes your judgment! I still can't see me enjoying the drop off the north side of Mam Tor - that's just horrible; loose and wet, but Brockley; Burrington, the A5 down to Bethesda, from Bala up then down to Trawsfynedd - these are fun.
And uphill? There's the benefit. Mike's realised he's not immortal and is going a bit slower on the downhills. So he's been commensurately quicker on the ups. Saturday he did the lead out work up Cheddar. I followed him to 1.5km from the top line - and took off. For me it was a new record; 16mins 42 seconds. I know that's hardly competitive, even for a 49 year old, among the battling elite. But in my book it's good. So agreed the several cyclists we depressed on the way up - and the guy driving the Subaru - we overtook him as well, though he was held up at the time. Mike also took a new personal best. By about 4 minutes, following me in by about 15metres. So now he's as quick as me going up (more or less), I'm as quick as him going down - definite development, but it won't last, and he's only quicker than me on the flat all the time he wants to be. I'm just going with a 30 year age difference in my defence. The rest of the family remain convinced we're both lunatics - though daughter is starting to show some interest in road bikes...
The lunatic, the climbs, some descents and the articles are back. Comments, as ever, invited.
DP
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