20% Skill

After one of those days which at first seemed inexplicably restless and slightly annoyed, the options were clear - either do some exercise, get some sleep or wash it all away with a glass of wine.  I took option A.

After spending good money on a Thule tow bar mounted bike rack, somehow I have slunk into the lazy girl option of taking the wheels out of the bike and popping it into the mini.  Back seats down.  So that's what I did.  It all seems like a fine way forward when you leave home, but actually when you get to destination there's often a chance that the brake levers will have engaged and pushed the disc pads together.  Also on the way home you're suddenly faced with putting a filthy bike into the car.  But the car's interior is not exactly spotless right now anyway so thoughtlessness rules and the bike goes in.  This of course will all change once the van is in my possession.  That's due end of August.  Which is exciting.  I hope it's finished to schedule, but if not, know I'll just tweak plans and it'll all be fine in a no stress, no detail kind of a way.

So the bike went in the car, and Rivington Old Barn was the destination, and as I drove the sun came out.  It was always going to be a rushed ride because I had opted not to put the lights in the bag and work had been a hellhole of a place so departure was delayed.  Which meant no messing.  Bike out, wheels on, helmet on and we're away.  Big grin on my face.

It's a funny ride for me, the Rivington one, and one which I hold kind of dear.  I guess it was the first ride I ever did which wasn't trail centre.  Traditional mountain bikers would probably hate it.  All the longest, steepest descents are on the road, making me wonder sometimes if it would be best ridden in reverse of the order I take it.  There's quite a bit of road, but there's a goodly amount of technicalish climbing. Well, by my less than 20% skill standards.  The first time I did the ride it took 3 hours. Now apparently it takes one and a half, and there was never any danger of the world turning dark.  There are two climbs I can now do which I couldn't before and one gritty little devil of a thing I can only make up in perfect conditions, both on the ground and in my head. It depends on me getting the line perfect, and it relies on me moving my body weight, getting the fine balance between a lifting front wheel and a skidding back wheel.  And yesterday I failed.  Nearly went back and tried again but it's by my standards so steep I get pretty pooped with just the once.  Maybe if next time I tried out of saddle ...

And the ride was blissful and involved a peacock in the road.  Which responded with a welcoming squawk to the squawk of my disc brakes.  Which was a moment of surreal for me.

And now I'm busy ordering a road bike.  Because I can.

And today's tune and title comes to you from Fort Major:

"This is 10% luck,
20% skill,
15% concentrated power of will,
5% pleasure,
50% pain,
And 100% reason to remember the name!"