Headed out last night to test the setup of the Scandal whilst fully loaded. Put pretty much every bag I own on and fill them with all sorts of stuff I wasn't going to use; looked like I was out for a week, rather than a single night. It did the job though, and I know now that I definitely need a new saddle, as neither of the ones I've got fit my arse in such an upright position. Also not convinced about these Nukeproof Neutron grips, maybe I just need to use more padded gloves/mitts though; might swap back to the Brand-X Mushroom's and see what happens.
It was good to be heading off road at night again, although I kept forgetting to put the light on the helmet. Would've been sensible to do that here for instance, while putting on more glove before heading down a sandy byway.
After just over three hours of riding, we arrived at our destination. It turned out to be slightly smaller and more compact than I remember, with just enough space to lie down. I remembered to let some of the air out of my mattress this time, so I woke up without my lower back in distress. It was much colder than expected when I woke up, and I'd already lost feeling in my left fingers before I'd even packed up. I got to a water tap, only to find it was broken, as I didn't have enough to get home, I decided I'd have to divert into Brandon and get some from Tesco / the BP garage.
Half way there, I remembered I had my water filter with me, but as I'd already put another two hydration tablets into the remainder of the water in the bladder, I didn't fancy drinking that till I got to a river. I sort of momentarily got lost in the maze of fire roads in Brandon Country Park, before remembering they have a tap, so I wouldn't have to go as far as the Tesco. By the time I made it there, I couldn't feel either hands, nor feet, and there was some impressive frost on the open heathland areas. Should've taken the lobster gloves, it wasn't like I didn't have the space... After filling up, it was off homewards, with whatever wiggle room I had before my first meeting of the day gone.
The byway down Deadman's Grave is one of my favourite, if I don't think about it too much, I could be in some far flung corner of the country on a proper adventure, rather than an hour and a half from the house. Props to the chap I meat at the other end, who was about to cycle up it on a Spech Allez with 25mm road tyres and two water bottles slung under his saddle, in a bottle cage seen normally on triathlon bikes. 🫡 After two hours of riding, I was starting to notice I was getting a bit tired and weaving around, I then realised that I hadn't eaten anything since six o'clock the previous evening, and this wasn't my usual fasted morning ride. So I started shovelling sustenance into my face, but the damage had been done and the legs had fallen off, so it was a straight line home, rather than waggling around some byways and bridleways.
I missed the fist meeting of the morning, and I'm not sorry. Lots to think about before the WRT...
https://www.strava.com/activities/8887912161
2023: 4 / 12
Total: 32
Streak: 4
There are theories at the bottom of my jargon.