We interrupt the regularly scheduled lack of posting to provide a quick update on recent developments here at lifeinthecyclelane HQ.
As you know, we ride year round in these parts, no matter what.
With the UK currently experiencing a much needed spell of hot, dry weather, every fair-weather-baggy-shorts-and-t-shirt-wearing-dangerous-red-light-running-clunky-bike-riding-amateur is out in force; skipping on and off of pavements, making ill considered manoeuvres, endangering themselves and others and basically giving the rest of us a bad name.
So, I’ve been out exploring, looking for roads and trails where other people are not. For reasons I do not fully understand, just about every turn I’ve taken recently has brought me face to face with some kind of obstacle. Signs proclaiming “No cycling”, “Cyclists dismount”, “Private road, no public right of way”, “Road closed”, “No entry, private land”, “Golfers only” and the suchlike abound. And, if there wasn’t a sign, a tree had somehow inexplicably fallen across the path – one, I could accept, but three separate trees felled in the space of 1km of the same trail? Seems a little suspicious. And then, finally, ultimately, impassably, a gigantic metal fence and no way out but back the way I’d came via all the downed foliage.
Everything Zen? I don’t think so.
Last night I took off in the absurd heat determined to get lost in the wilderness and lost I got. Full on, riding through the middle of a field of 6ft tall grass with no idea which direction I was headed lost. Over the train tracks and far, far away down the gravel roads lost. 3 hours at full tilt, lactic acid burning my thighs, barely enough energy left to get home again lost. Didn’t see another soul for ages because I was in the middle of nowhere lost.
It was just what I needed.