So, a four day weekend has nearly come to an end, and it has been a good one for me and the bike. Saturday took me here: http://www.ridetheclwyds.com. A hearty route, starting at the Ruthin craft centre and doggedly climbing and climbing and climbing until you hit a forest at the top when you get to do a lovely downhill section through wide and open grassland (so you can see walking folk coming and not hit them), followed by a long hard drag up a fireroad and then you travel and travel and travel. I very much enjoy it.
Both fortunately and unfortunately I suffered a minor and preventable but ride limiting mechanical issue. Having finally found the perfect saddle, the prologo which makes me inordinately happy, it turns out my wrist action is not the finest in the world at securing said saddle to the Ritchie saddle post. Sadly the first I knew of my error was after 2 hours of climbing when the front end of the saddle began pointing airwards. Got off, checked and dammit, one of the two securing bolts has gone missing. Tightened the remaining bolt but it's rapidly clear that it isn't enough to keep the saddle at a viable angle. So, with some regret we turned round to head back down all the bits we'd just ground our way up.
I say with some regret. However, I've never done this route in reverse, and kind of longed to be able to whizz down those hills I normally climbed, so with saddle somewhat secured by a man's wrist action on the one remaining bolt down we zoomed, and zoomed and zoomed. It's fun going down grassy tracks. Normally trail centres etc. have no grass left on them, such is the popularity, it's all rock and dirt and gravel never sleepy grazing land. One of the noteworthy points of grazing land is that things graze it. Fluffy things. Sheep. There, in the middle of the path ahead I saw her, the sheep. So, being a unique kind of an individual who actually has a bell on her mountain bike I started to ting the bell, and ting the bell and ting the bell to get the sheep to move. I think in reality she shifted because the bellows of laughter coming from behind me and subsequently from me were loud and weird enough to alarm the poor beasty into moving well away from the strange people. I liked ringing my bell.
The route down the hill which had taken over two hours to climb took just 45 minutes to descend. Whee. Indeed.