Lately it seems almost all of Europe has been subjected to wretched horrid wet weather. Unsurprisingly we haven't avoided any of it here. As a result, my cycling excursions have been limited for the last couple of weeks.

I got complacent during a few hot dry weeks and forgot we normally have cold wet weather. I wasn't the only imbecile. Everybody seemed to be straight out in their shorts, short sleeves etc. Basking in the sun with no memory of the previous weather conditions was de rigueur for a short but glorious period of time.

[Apologies in advance for the boring statistics you're about to read or choose not to read] Beginning on Saturday the 19th of May at 9-41am, I cycled a route I do from time to time. I wore bib-tights and a winter jersey with a baselayer below. The temperature averaged  10.8°C/51.5°F for my excursion with a minimum of 6°C/42.8°F and a maximum of 17°C/62.6°F (which lasted about a minute and was right at the end of my cycle). Setting out at 9-42am on Saturday the 26th of May, I cycled almost exactly the same route, in shorts and a short sleeved jersey, and the average temperature was 25.8°C/78.4°F. The minimum was 21°C/69.8°F and the maximum was a whopping 32°C/89.6°F (again for a very short period right at the end of the cycle). Much as I like it, I'm not sure my Edge 800 is one hundred percent accurate with temperature but, assuming it's vaguely correct, how are such changes in temperature in a mere week even possible?

It's now (as you can tell from the date on this post) the middle of June. I went out for a cycle yesterday and had to wear a long sleeved baselayer below a short sleeved jersey and a pair of 3/4 length bib-knickers to cope with an 11.2°C/53.2°F average temperature. This is all rather discombobulating. I seem to remember there being definite seasons when I was a child. Perhaps it's a rose tinted memory and we've always had crazy temperature changes. Whilst on the subject of weather; Do you know lots of people who obsess over the weather despite not partaking in any activity which the weather affects? It seems loads of people gripe and moan about the terrible weather even though they spend almost their entire lives indoors. If I didn't want to do anything outdoors, I don't think the rain would bother me too much. 

Despite the weather grumbles, I managed to get out for a cycle last Sunday. Normally Sunday is the day we'd go out with one of the local clubs but I was trying out a new pair of Northwave 'Extreme Tech' shoes and didn't think my stopping constantly to adjust my cleats would be popular on a club run. I bought them because the Diadora 'ProRacer 2.0' shoes I bought a couple of months ago have started to hurt that bony bit on the top-right of my left foot. The Diadoras have got a little plate where the adjustable strap anchors and it has hurt my foot far more than one might imagine. It really is quite close to agony to attempt to wear the shoes. I tried e-mailing Chain Reaction (where I bought them) ten days ago and was told they were going to contact Diadora and get back to me. I'm still waiting. That's not good customer service. Besides, what useful insights are Diadora going to share? Will they send me some magic dust to sprinkle over the problem area and make everything okay?

Anyway, I'm wittering and should get back to my original point... I was out cycling last Sunday. While cycling uphill on a skinny country road, a car was hurtling downhill (toward me) at quite a pace. I did that invisible basketball dribble with my right hand to signal for the driver to slow down a bit. He didn't. Rather than brake, he decided to flip me the bird. Not pleased by this, I returned his bird with one of my own. Apparently it was okay for him to do this to me (and risk my life by nearly driving into me at speed) but my return of his gesture was beyond the pale. The ignoramus (the one in the car, not the one on the bike) stopped his car and began to reverse toward me. I, being a wuss, was rather frightened at the prospect of being punched/beaten/run over and kept cycling on as I had been. Thankfully the Neanderthal only reversed a little and then drove on but it reminded me, when cycling, it pays to have a long fuse and a short memory. 

We're so vulnerable when out on our bikes, compared to those driving large metal machines. If people shout abuse, drive dangerously, gesture in a less than pleasing manner etc. it seems the safest course of action from the cyclist is complete inaction. It's not easy to ignore someone who is being aggressive and bullying toward one but pressing on and trying to forget about it is probably the best thing to do. It's frustrating. People, of course, should not be treating one another in such a manner and people who do treat other likes that certainly shouldn't be behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. Unfortunately they are and all we can do is try to make our cycles as enjoyable and safe as possible. As my almost blown rear tyre has shown me, there are enough potential dangers for cyclists outside the actions of others without enraging some idiot stranger too.

Sorry about writing quite so much and thanks for reading. 

F**k ewe!

I was cycling up Glenariff yesterday. As you'd imagine, I wasn't exactly flying. However, I was going fast enough to be held up by a farmer driving a flock of sheep up the road. Three cars were held up in front of me too. That's not interesting but it is relevant to some other non-interesting gubbins I'll be mentioning soon.

It was a nuisance to me but I understand farmers have to move their sheep between fields at some point and I was just unlucky to chance upon that road at that time.

So, anyway, I had to crawl up the road after this farmer (who was on a quad) and his flock of sheep. It took, what seemed like, ages. I'd estimate the two fields were at least half a mile apart and the poor little bleaters were tootling along at about four miles an hour.

To push toward my grumpy point, eventually the sheep reached their destination and another farmer (who I shall refer to as Farmer 2) guided them into their field. As each of the three cars passed, Farmer 2 smiled or said 'Thank you' and waved in appreciation. Then it was my turn. I nodded an acknowledgement to him as I was nearing Farmer 2 and got a complete fuck you stare in return. Huh? What the hell did I do to merit that?

I was way more obstructed than the motorists; I had to weave through sheep poop and was barely going at a speed where I could keep upright while they were able to sit (admittedly still being held back) in comfort and not have to worry about fresh sheep plops or unsuccessful attempts at track stands.

It's no big deal really but I find that kind of behaviour somewhat baffling. Why be all sweetness and light to the motorists and then glare at a cyclist who is proactively being friendly? That's not to say the motorists weren't being friendly. I simply don't know in their case.

As I say, it doesn't matter much but wouldn't life be more pleasant if people could show more appreciation to one another and at least feign being positive.

I'd like to add that I bear the sheep no malice whatsoever. They did their utmost to accommodate me and were very polite, other than the public defecation.

Cobwebs

I'm an awful awful man. No, please don't tell me I'm the light which brightens up your otherwise meaningless life; I'm awful (as noted above).

Today was the first time I've been out on my bicycle since the 16th of November 2011. Shame on me! Okay, I'm not 'that' awful. It doesn't actually matter whatsoever to anyone who isn't me.

I'd done my annual promise of 'I'll definitely keep cycling through the winter this year. I'll not let the little fitness I've gained go to waste. In fact, I'll be fitter in the spring than I was going into the winter'. Yep, that worked out to the tune of not whatsoever.

It's easy for me to make such promises to myself in the middle of what passes for a summer here. Winter seems like a make believe time. Sure it'll never come round.

Oh, what do you know, there's autumn; the shorts and short-sleeved jerseys are packed away for the rest of the year and it's all bib-knickers and long-sleeves. 'Hmm, maybe I'll not be fitter than I was going into the winter but I still plan to retain what little fitness I have and get out on my bike regularly'.

Then autumn rolls into the crispy start of winter; jackets and bib-tights are the new fashion and thoughts turn to 'Well, if I get out and do shorter routes less often, at least it's something'.

Lo and behold, almost three and a half months later and I've done it again. The bicycles have sat in the garage while I've sat on my arse. So much for 'not-very-big-at-all ideas man'.

To return to the start, I went out for a ride on my bicycle today. It was a fairly short cycle for me (ie. almost pointlessly short for most other people) and, what do you know, sitting on your bum for three and a half months does diminish one's fitness. Who knew?

Cycling a short flat loop at slow (even by my standards) pace was a real struggle. I averaged a heart rate notably higher than usual with results notably lower than usual. To add to this, I got absolutely soaked on the way home.

Do I regret getting back on the bike to find I'm unfit, cold and wet? Absolutely not. I loved it. It's great to be back on two wheels again after a silly break in services. Cycling, in addition to the obvious physical benefits, makes me incredibly happy (well, when people aren't trying to run over me) and helps my state of mind immensely. Plus, the calorific expenditure meant I could get away with eating a big slice of yummy ice-cream cake, even if my teeth won't thank me for it.

P is also for...

I was initially going to nab this piddly image but thought the picture I chose seemed more appropriate to here.

P is for Panic: I had a cyclist's nightmare the other morning. I was on the last leg of my getting ready to head out for a cycle routine; I'd reached the have a small cup of coffee stage. On went our Dolce Gusto coffee machine (if you click on the link, I hope you thoroughly enjoy their music), in went the Cafe Lungo (whatever that is) pod, over went the actually put coffee in a cup lever and 'Pffft!', out came a few drips before the machine went kaput.

'Eek!', 'Jakers!', 'Cripes!', 'Egads!' and other such words people don't actually say or think unless they're characters in a cartoon. I feared my, seemingly correct, actions had destroyed our beloved so simple even an idiot like me can use it coffee maker.

You may not be one who finds cycling and coffee go together as an almost inseparable pair but I am and I'm definitely not alone. The thought of breaking up that relationship was not one I relished. Plus, I didn't want to have to pay to get the coffee machine fixed or replaced. Tears were considered but didn't appear.

Needless to say, my panic and worries were for nothing. It was a wonky coffee pod. The machine was absolutely fine, coffee was consumed and a slow tootling cycled ensued. The world was a wonderful place.

P is for Peculiar: From time to time I'll perform an action and think afterwards 'Why on Earth did I do that?'. That time to time happened for me again on Friday.

I'd been cycling a (by my standards) hilly route along the Antrim coast and was thoroughly knackered while making my (slow) crawl up the coast. Passing through (makes me sound like a poop) Carnlough, some wag (ie. a cocky spide) was weaving all over the road on his oncoming bicycle. As he neared me he said, something along the lines of, 'What about a race mate?' while laughing. Usually I go into immediate self-depreciation mode and say the likes of 'Ach no. You'd only beat me too easily' but the fatigue of the day must have addled my mind.

Rather than humouring him, I waited until he was directly opposite me, looked him dead in eyes, grinned manically and flipped him the bird. Weird as it sounds, I seemed to think this was all good natured japing around at the time. I didn't mean it to be particularly offensive. Cocky spide, however, seemed less than enamoured. Oops! Unlikely as it is, if Cocky Spide is reading this, please accept my apologies (particularly for calling you a cocky spide).

P is for Pheasants: Loads of the buggers. It seems everywhere I cycle, asides from urinating (see previous P), I have to avoid pheasants.

Pheasants don't appear to be terribly smart, even as birds go. Rather than having the common sense to run or fly away from the oncoming bicycle, they have a tendency to run a few feet in one direction, turn around to run in another random manner and repeat this until they're either safe or involved in a crash. They're lovely birds but rather nonsensical. At least, in their defence, they're pheasants and not peasants. I'd hate to sully myself writing about the lower classes.

P is for Purchasing: I've had an almost obsession with buying (cheap) cycling stuff recently. Mainly it has comprised of jerseys and the odd bit of other clothing. It makes me wonder why I buy it all.

It's not that I have a huge vault filled with cycle gear but I certainly have enough to be getting on with. I could probably wear the stuff I have for the next five or ten years and not have to purchase another item of cycle clothing yet purchase I do. My (very basic) theory on this is of the old donkey and carrot scenario; If I buy cycling garments, I'll want to try them out. To try them out I have to go for a cycle. Therefore buying cycle clothing pushes me to go out and cycle more.

Of course it could just be that I like getting stuff.

P is for Pique: Pique's probably too strong a word but it starts with a P so it'll do. I'm sorry to say deflate doesn't start with a P so it won't do. Maybe I should have tried to shoehorn in puncture in an emotional sense? With the bicycle reference, that might have seemed almost clever. What a shame I'm not.

Anyway, my slightly peeved (maybe I should have used P is for Peeve) grump comes from an order I made with Bike Dock. I had ordered my lovely lady three pairs of their Altura Night Vision tights because they were listed for a mere £19-99 GBP each. It seemed like a great price. In addition to the tights, I ordered some other bits and pieces. I think the total order came to a little over £130 GBP.

This morning I received an e-mail apologising and telling me they had a software problem and the tights were incorrectly priced on their website. Apparently the actual price is £34-99 GBP. As the error had been on their part, they said they'd give me another ten percent off the £34-99 GBP.

I appreciate it was an error and am grateful for their apology but, more often than not, companies tend to honour the incorrect price. That being the case, I decided to cancel the order in its entirety. It's the first time I've tried to order anything from Bike Dock and it doesn't entice me to do so again. I'd imagine they're not obliged to sell items at the listed price if there is a mistake but it annoys me they didn't offer to do so. As I wrote earlier, in my experience, normally shops do sell items for the listed price in this scenario. It was, after all, their mistake.

Rather than put me off shopping there, they could have honoured the price and I would have thought 'That's good of them. I'll shop there again' instead of my current 'That's not as good as other shops. I'll not hurry back there to buy anything'. It seems silly on their part. They might have had to take a slight hit on tights but would have earned a new customer (potentially both online and physically in the shop) and good words from me to other prospective customers. Besides, I'd think the profits from the other items I was going to buy likely more than offset any losses incurred from the tights.

As I say, they didn't do anything particularly bad, they just didn't do anything that good. Other shops have shown considerably superior customer service and will get my business instead. They've left a bit of a bad taste. Maybe they'll write back to my cancel the order e-mail and redeem themselves. That remains to be seen. I'll be surprised if they do.

P is for...

P is for Puncture: When it comes to most aspects of life, I'm not a superstitious fool. I don't worship the moon or believe a certain number of a particular type of bird means I'm going to win the lottery or die horribly. Yep, I like to think I'm a modern scientific level-headed guy. Why then, if I'm so bloody logical, do I refuse to say the P word when out cycling? It even pained me to type it there earlier. What kind of moron am I (before you answer, I'm many types and flavours of moron)?

Do I think some sort of tyre god (as opposed to the Norse god Tyr [thank you Valhalla]) is going to send forth a plague of thorns should I dare utter the P word? Apparently I do. Apparently I am of the opinion my saying the P word will directly result in my getting a hole in my tyre which allows air to escape. That means two things must be true:

1. I'm extremely egotistical to think I'm so important or magical as to make this mystical tyre rupturing take place with only the utterance of a mere word
2. I'm obviously mental and not in a way people say when they want people to think they're great fun but rather in the manner which means they're in danger of being sectioned

P is for Pee or Pee Pee or Piss or Pish: There are probably other names for urinating which start with a P too. Please feel free to share in the comments section.

Of late it seems I can't cycle for more than a couple of miles without an overwhelming desire to urinate. As I'm not an animal wishing to mark his territory, I fear I may have an over excitable bladder. He's fine when he's in the house but take him out for a day (I mean out of the house not outside my body) and it appears he's a terrible showoff.

I'm not sure if it's the recent spate of cold weather giving my bladder a shock, the caffeine filled tablets which are in the fluid I drink (caffeine barely needs to pass my lips before I've have to make toilet) or simply one of the unpleasant parts of the aging process. Whatever it is, I'm against it. I don't want to be stopping all the time to empty my waste at the side of the road. It's highly unpleasant and rather unseemly. Plus, I don't want to find myself getting in trouble because someone thought I was having a fiddle when I was actually having a piddle (there's another one). P is not for pervert (or anything considerably worse).

P is for Plonker/Pillock: Well, it is if you're Derek Trotter (for the former) or a cliched person from northern England (for the latter).

This grumble relates to an incident when we (myself and my good lady) were out cycling about a week ago. We were passed by another cyclist and pleasantries (ie. 'Hello') were exchanged.

After he passed us, realising we were almost home, I said to 'er indoors 'We've got a few gels and things we didn't use. Should I catch up with him and ask him if he wants them?'. Post affirmative response, I gave chase to offer gels, bars etc. to the gent who had passed us and may have required them more than us. I was catching up with him reasonably quickly until he looked round, saw I was closing and decided to up his pace. Likewise, I increased my speed and bit so I could make the offer. He kept looking round to see where I was and carried on and on increasing his speed as I got closer and closer.

Eventually I couldn't be arsed any more and stopped trying to catch him. Honestly, I don't know if I could have caught him or not at the speed he was eventually going but that's not really the point. I mean, what was he thinking? He obviously only increased his speed so I couldn't catch up with him. Did he think I was trying to race him? I was on a steel framed tourer with mudguards and a rack pack and wasn't on my own. Did he imagine I was going to rush on, leave my lady love behind and try to break him in two with my majestic racing? Gawd knows. What a frigging tool!

I evidently wasn't tracking him with fury and bad intentions. We'd just said 'Hello' pleasantly a few minutes earlier. I just dunno what goes on in some people's heads at times.

P is for Precipitation: Thank goodness I remembered the word precipitation. Previously I had typed Pistulent Weather. Even by my own standards, making words up is contrived.

We were taken for a ride today. That's a poor choice of words. We actually went on a ride today and weren't taken anywhere, unless you count travelling by bicycle as the bike taking us somewhere. Anyway, this taking for a ride isn't of that sort. It refers, instead, to the hilarious lark which is the weather forecast.

As you will know if you read the previous post, I've been going doolally with weather woes. It has been raining pretty much every day recently. Imagine my joy when the forecasts showed today's weather to be white cloud but dry (not normally that exciting I'll grant you). We plotted and planned a route to do today, got our stuff ready last night (I'm like a child on Christmas Eve) and headed out for a lovely cycle today. Well guess what, it pissed down on us and was almost exactly the same weather we've been having almost every day recently; hours of light rain with the odd bright spell.

Oh how the weather forecasters must giggle with their evil games. Ha! The joke's on them. Despite both cyclists (myself and the good lady again) and our bikes getting absolutely filthy (requiring a hosing down and some Muc-Off when we got home) and a few nervous moments on the filthy slippery roads, we enjoyed ourselves while the forecasters were chained up in their weather towers. Up theirs!

Third time lucky

Remember my witter about 'silly' cycle jerseys? No? It was the one with the photo of boobs. Ah, you remember now.

Anyhoo (as people don't actually say), in that post, I mentioned about ordering a Foska Kwik-E-Mart jersey from Evans Cycles.

As is customary in these affairs, I paid for the jersey and it arrived in the post. As is also customary in such situations, I wore this jersey while cycling (just the once), the hem unravelled and a long white thread tried to make its way into my gearing (thankfully failing to do so). Evans was phoned, apologies were made (by them, not me), the jersey was sent back (with me paying for the shipping), time was waited and another jersey (as if by magic) arrived in the post.

Again going with custom, I opened the package and looked at the jersey. This time, I didn't even need to put it on to see it wasn't good. Down the left side, a thread had been caught, pulled and left the jersey laddered/hitched up. I'm not sure what the actual expression is but hope my stumbling wordage gets you in the right ballpark. Oh and it had dirty dusty warehouse smudges on it but they were washable.

So, on the phone to Evans I went again and this time had a good whinge at them about having to spend so much on posting the jerseys back, driving to and from the post office etc. (although I'm not sure there actually as an 'etc.'). The nice chap from Evans told me to hang on to the faulty jersey (which is wearable but not of merchantable quality) and had another one (which he inspected beforehand) sent out to me.

The new jersey, so far, seems to be in good condition and has not fallen apart after one wear. We'll see how it survives a mild wash.

In summary, the lessons learned are; Evans Cycles eventually seems to sort problems out to customers' satisfaction and whinging at people is the best way to get results.

Onto other matters...

Hasn't this week been appalling! Being one who, whenever possible, doesn't cycle in the rain, I've been going spare. I've had a terrible case of cabin fever, sitting indoors getting gradually angrier and angrier about and at the weather.

The weather isn't a great thing to get angry at. There's never any satisfactory conclusion. I can be angry at it for rainy weeks, become friends again when the rain subsides and it'll still turn round and rain all over me without any concern for how it might make me feel.

I suppose it's better to direct one's anger at the weather than at other living beings. However, in writing that, my cabin fever has made me even more insufferable to live with than normal. It's amazing quite how depressed the inactivity was making me feel. Getting out for a quick (in terms of time, not my speed) ride yesterday was like opening a frustration valve.

By nature I'm a fairly lazy chap. I don't particularly enjoy exercise for exercise sake. In fact, if I perceived cycling as exercise and not an activity, I'm not sure I would enjoy it very much. Other than cycling, I haven't been doing much cardiovascular exercise and I miss it terribly when I'm housebound by the weather. I could (and should) use a treadmill, spinning bike, cross-trainer, rowing machine and suchlike and attempt to keep get fit that way but it's not something I derive much pleasure from and find it hard to motivate myself to partake in such activities. If I was more of a fan of banging Eurotechno, I might find it easier.

Thanks for reading and may the weather where you are be always sunny (although not really because that would probably lead to some terrible problems with crops, water supplies and all that auld caper).

The beginning of the end

Some may say I'm prone to a little hyperbole when it comes to titling these (normally waffling and not terribly interesting) posts. I'd have to agree.

'The beginning of the end' may be slightly misleading. The only thing ending is the summer. Not surprising really, what with it being the last day of August and all that, but never a pleasant experience.

'Er indoors (or some other 70s, slightly unpleasant term) and I were out for a tootle on our bikes today. That means we were out cycling in a leisurely manner, not urinating on them. Anyway, yes, we were out for a cycle and it was the first time for months when we've had to wear our 3/4 length knickers instead of our shorts. Arm warmers were also a requirement today. I fear this is the shape of things to come.

Our delightful flimsy summer garb will be shoved away in the bottom of a box and we'll be dusting off our long sleeved jerseys, bib-knickers, long sleeved base layers, bib-tights, gilets, winter gloves, glove liners, jackets, under-helmet skullcaps and any other heat retaining cycle clothing we can think of. I know it doesn't matter or stop me being able to get out on my bike but it still makes me a little sad to be saying 'Bye bye' to the summer until next year. Phooey! Maybe I need to consider moving somewhere altogether warmer, although I'm sure hotter climates have associated problems I probably haven't considered.

This is more as a reminder to myself than anything; I forgot to start the timer/data recording on my GPS today after stopping for lunch. That's annoying, especially as some of it was up a wee climb I wanted to look at afterwards. Double phooey!

Despite all my grumbling, I had a lovely day out on my bike and hope to continue doing so through autumn and winter (which would make a change for me).

By the way, is it ironic that I missed the live coverage of the Vuelta because I was out cycling? Perhaps not as professional cycling and what I do have almost nothing in common .