A warm spring evening, dry trails. Well it’d be rude not to wouldn’t it? Without squadron leader Matt (on domestic duties) it started off fairly routinely in so much as – meet at Bookham, start riding up Crabtree Lane and then casually start throwing route ideas around because we were too busy chatting before we set off.
As Muddymoles has grown in popularity and we have got more and more folks joining us, not only have we got to make many more friends along the way, but the fairly random attendance (in some cases) means routes become more varied and interesting as alternative ideas are injected.
So tonight, John R joined us (on my singlespeed Inbred he’s borrowed to see how he gets on) suggested a different approach. So Jem, Dave P, Dave C, RoadieDendron (Tony) and myself headed up to Ranmore and then headed VERY swiftly down McPhersons Mount to the railway line and the back of Westcott. The trail is so named after John’s friend who was the first person to clean it, as a climb, and I’ve only ever ridden it once.
Its funny how there are trails that we tend to ride only in the ascending mode, whereas if you turn them on their head, they are ace fun to ride down! Then we headed across the field past the back of Westcott on more virgin trails to pick up with White Down, which I wasn’t particularly looking forward too. Until tonight.
You see, I’ve been bitchin for a few weeks that I seem to have lost my climbing mojo of late and have been nowhere near as spritely as I feel I was last summer. Tonight, Jem offered that my seat looked a bit low. I’ve been working off a standard measurement on all my bikes and it appears that somewhere along the way, I’ve cocked up.
Taking his advice onboard, the seat went up by about an inch and hey presto, problem sorted. I felt great (well as much as you can do) climbing up White Down, what a relief. I’ll never be challenging Tony up the hills, but at least I’ll be able to hold my own again.
Back to the ride, we just headed back to Polesden via Badger Run and Yew Trees where Dave P got revenge on me for cutting him up earlier by repeatedly locking his back wheel in the dust and shrouding me in a cloud of the stuff-lovely. As if this wasn’t bad enough, then everyone started doing it. Grown men who should know better acting like kids – brilliant. It brings me back to a conversation at the weekend with my daughter who concluded that men are just young boys in big bodies!
So, with just a twist on familiar trails, a highly amusing ride, reasonable workout and another 17 miles on the clock. Leith Hill beckons Sunday and it looks as if we’ll be dodging the showers. Never mind, I’m not sure I like all this dust.