here we go again!

Wednesday 21st Feb

Wind speed and direction similar to yesterday's.
Gold in the sky as the clouds parted.
This brought on "Floppy Boot Stomp" by Captain Beefheart (...and the sky turned white in the middle of the night...)

I have discarded my Polaris-fleecy-wrap-around-ear-warmer thingy this week. Kept it in my pocket just in case, but didn’t need it. Wonder if I’m being a bit premature.

Time out: 1:02.
No return time recorded. Obviously the novelty is wearing off.

Birds what I have heard this week:

Blackbird (twittering).
Woodpecker (drilling).
Crows (cawing).
A brace of startled grouse (clucking).
Some sort of mellifluous moorland larky pipitty thing (chirupping).

...the countryside is waking up.

Progress report on saddle comfort: think my nether regions are just building up some sort of scar tissue. Either that or too numb to feel any pain.

Tuesday 20th Feb

Wind has come round more to the west, so some "head" some "side".
Cloud on tops is not so thick. Turbines visible again.
Quite a few vehicles passed me this morning.

Thought a good measure of fitness would be to monitor my minimum speed up the "big hill".
Started to get despondent at 3.0 mph half way up, then demoralised at 2.5 mph,
then the thing plummetted to 0.0! Well, I nearly fell off.
Surely some mistake (I was actually still moving)
Ah well, maybe not such a good idea after all.

Near work, on the pedestrian approach to the underpass,
I wheeled up behind a lady enquire if it was her that I startled at this spot yesterday.
It turned out it was a different lady yesterday. Today's lady was not for startling.
However, she asked me if it was me she'd passed up on the moors. I said that was probably the case.
She's a cyclist who lives in Haworth, and appreciates the challenge of the "big hill",
having cycled it herself occasionally in summer.
Has 2 bikes, hybrid and mountain, so must be an enthusiast. I told her I was getting in training for LeJOG, which seemed to impress.

Need new batteries in my tail light. They've lasted quite well. LEDs rule OK!

I work in what was once a dark satanic carpet-weaving mill, which has now been converted into office space.

When I get to work I leave my bike in what I fondly term “the dungeon”. It’s the basement of said old mill. It’s dry, but it’s grotty, dimly lit, and probably harbours dead creatures in every cranny.

After removing the lights, pump, computer, drinks bottle so that the bogey man doesn’t get them, I make my way to the lift. It’s a brand spanking new lift, well actually a pair of lifts, which cling to the outside of the mill in a glass tube. I press the button and incant (sotto voce) “Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair.” The lift duly arrives. Rapunzel (for ‘tis she) says “Doors opening” closely followed by “Please select your floor”. “I wouldst inspect thy mezzanine” I quip. “Failing that, take me to floor 5 and your garderobe, fair maiden.”

Sometimes it is Rapunzel 2 who arrives, for she has a twin sister. Rapunzel 2 has a slight lisp, so that it’s not always clear whether she has taken me to the “Fifth Floor” or the “Sixth Floor” or indeed the “Thithth floor”. After searching in vain for the source of the disembodied voice, I exit forlornly to the strain of “Doorth clothing”

I go to the shower room and enjoy a relaxing shower, before once more taking Rapunzel 2 to the Theventh Floor, whereat my desk is situated.

Fancied a change going home, so headed into the valley of the Hebble Brook, past the old Websters Fountain Head Brewery, and then had to push the bike for quarter of a mile up the steeply cobbled Ovenden Wood Road. Started up all the guard dogs in the vicinity. Remind me not to go that way again, please.

Going home along the moor road, there was a blinding light coming towards me. I wondered what the heck it could be. Turned out to be a mountain biker. I thought about asking if he had a dipped beam on that thing. Man, it was bright.

Time out 1:05.
Time return: 1:11


Monday 19th Feb

Birds were singing when I left the village. But quite a stiff headwind once out of the shelter of the village. Up in the clouds on the tops - pretty grim, cold, damp and silent apart from the odd 4x4 coming up behind. Generally speaking the motorists on this road come past quite courteously; it's narrow and they can see me wobbling as I struggle manfully to make forward progress.

A nice warm shower restored the feeling to my extremities once I got to work.

Time out 1:06 (‘cloudy’ i.e. foggy on tops, headwind)
Time return 0:56 surely some sort of record (a spot of rain towards home, setting in later in the evening, but who cares I’m home and dry).