Tuesday, February 24, 2009

CYCLING: Beacon to Butt on chock and nut

Sorry for the absense.
It’s not like there hasn’t been guilt.

Since last time there are some new things in my life... things which may or may not be to blame.
1. Twitter.
2. Twice the work

I’ve been biking. Not as much, but enough to keep the legs strong enough for a 20-miler from Glynde back to the Bourne a week past.

I got up the hill to Firle Beacon in sixth. This’ll mean nothing to anyone, but I like saying it.

Then, accompanied with endless Downland views towards southern sea and distant city to the north, we went very slowly down until Littlington.

Some of it was so thick with gluey mud it was like peddling up. But most was windless and wondrous.
We snuck into West Dean to avoid Friston’s muddy tracks and popped out the other side before it awoke.

Genius, I said to myself, as we stumbled fortuitously upon the gentle fire road to the top of a meadow above Jevington. And Genius I said to Dave as we remembered he had one more Snickers bar to power three of us up the last hill...

But the back path up Butt’s Brow’s butt beat us all... and would have done even if my bike wasn’t stuck on the middle rung. We were spent and rolled into Old Town and onto respective beds almost without stopping to get off.