Ride to Faversham today: 30 miles, about 21 degrees, good breeze for cooling. Up and over the Crab and Winkle Way to the outskirts of Whitstable, then along the (not remotely picturesque) Thanet Way to Seasalter.
The view from Seasalter, looking back towards Whitstable:
Pretty much the middle of nowhere:
Marshland as I was approaching Faversham:
And Faversham itself, where I stopped for a drink and an obscenely large piece of cake:
Some poppies that caught my eye on the way back (with the Isle of Sheppey and the Thames estuary in the distance):
Altogether, a very enjoyable ride on a great day for riding.
It occurred to me today that I'd not been out for a ride for over a month. As I needed some time and space to think over some important decisions, a bike ride seemed like the ideal thing to do.
Dull sky, but humid and sweaty climb onto the SDW. View looking towards Cocking and Midhurst.
Headed to West Harting to rediscover some trails I'd not ridden for 15 years. Bloody brilliant stuff! The twisty singletrack has not been ridden much, so the turns were a bit slippery and difficult to see due to leaf accumulation.
As I headed back to the car, I experienced an epiphany and had the answer to the problems that had been vexing me.
It just proves that cycling is good for your mental wellbeing!
Last week I was house and dog sitting. I didn't feel it would be fair to leave the mutts any longer than necessary, so there were no rides.
This morning I was raring to go. Warm and sunny. The prospect of a lovely day ahead.
I'd got about a mile down the road when a seed of doubt was sown. I stopped and checked my bag. I didn't have my office keys...dammit... I had to turn around. Took me ages to find them in the sensible place where I'd left them, and by then it was late. I had to go in the car...numpty
Big push, felt slow yet good pace: becoming consistent. Breezed in at a perfect 13°c.
Stopped on the way home to take this:
Wtf...I've been running low on options for new vistas to delight this thread's readership, and I wouldn't think you would want to see my mug gurning into the lens, or the same shot repeated over and over, or both. So I try and keep it interesting, in an attempt to offset the fact that the write-up isn't. I thought I'd found a great shot next to the sewage farm: endured the pong, and the above is what came out.
Anyway. The young lady below was hanging around outside my front gate. She doesn't look particularly worn, but she was tired. Bees wear themselves out. An easy way to tell how old they are is to look at the leading edge of the wings. If they're frayed she won't be around much longer, and they tend to die where they fall.
Ride home I was on it. Best pace yet. Moving into Herts pace territory, with hills and evreefink.
Went back and shot it again. On reflection yesterday's was probably better.
The temperature was up another degree this afternoon, a balmy 24°c. Pace was up another notch too. On one road section, of about a mile and a half, I can hold off following cars until we hit a 40 limit. I think my fitness is reaching a similar level to mid-summer last year, although the mileage is considerably less.
Elevation change of 347 feet. 7 miles in just under 29 minutes. At the moment I simply don't have time for greater adventures.