Pure bliss amidst the mother of all bad weeks....
Jump the ferry to Calais, and drive down to our place in Spain, pick up our trailer, and stop en route to have a crack at the Tourmalet in the Pyrenees. Simples. However, somewhere in the math the following was added, without my consent, to the equation:
1 x broken water pump, 2 x French mechanics ("parlez vous anglais?..."NON!"), 1 x very slow crawl back to Calais, 1 x extortionate last minute ferry crossing, 3 x cans of cheap Redbull substitute, 1 x very, very slow crawl back home. Fantastic. And just to complete the formula of disaster 1 x large repair bill, and last but not least 1 x chest infection.
Could this week get any worse? I really hoped not. So feeling restless being stuck in the house I decided to grab the mountain bike, head into town and meet the wife for lunch. It suddenly struck me that I do very little commuting on the bike, which made this journey unexpectedly satisfying. Then on the way home I decided to take a snidey short cut on a footpath through the local woods and across some fields.
Feeling a little under the weather I decided to stop and take in the view for a bit. Laid on the grass watching the clouds blow by I tried to remember the last time I had done this, and the realisation dawned that I don't think I ever have. In all the years riding bikes I have never just ridden to somewhere for no other reason other than to sit, chill out, and take in the view. Sure I've had mid ride rest stops, and hung with mates waiting for stragglers on climbs etc. I've stopped for punctures, food, mechanicals, pubs, off's, laughs, cry's, and all sorts. But never just for half hour or so of pure indulgent nothingness. It was pure bliss, and I just couldn't help but picture myself a character in a 'Mint Sauce sketch' (for anyone not familiar with Jo Burt's legendary creation go to http://homepage.mac.com/pfellows1/thisiswhy/index.html to begin your education).
And so there you have it. When everything in the world goes to s%$t just take your bike, find a nice spot, and do absolutely nothing for half hour or so. Singletrack for the soul.
Dave.
