I’m not a superstitious person. I don’t worry about walking under ladders, throwing salt in the eyes of kitchen-dwelling antichrists nor do I have any qualms about putting my shoes on a table. I have started to think though that I’ve upset a god or two just before Christmas.
It all starts on the way to the ride at Llandegla. I was late, so I was driving too fast. My fault then that I got a speeding fine through the post. Then I got a cold. Boxing Day was crap as a result, and the following few days were spent suffocating under a blanket of snot. I’d planned to ride to the cottage we rented for New Year up in the Lakes. The cold put a stop to that.
First day there and I realised I’d left my camera at home. Grr! Later that day I reversed Deb’s car into the propane tank. Ooof! I’d taken the road bike with me so I did get some quality rides in whilst we were up there and for a short time it seemed like my bad luck had evaporated. The day we were due to come back to Manchester I planned to ride home. It then started to snow quite heavily. By the morning, the roads were about 6 feet wide. So I canned that too.
I thought that it was the end of it, but last night I went for a quick ride on the singlespeed and got about a mile from the house. My light packed in, the chain tensioner expired (causing the chain to come off) and I rode through the biggest pile of thorns in the world and got an instant flat tyre. All in the space of about 10 feet. Tonight, I was on my way out for a run in the woods and the sky erupted with marble-sized hail, lightning, thunder, wind and general fury. Perhaps I should stay in the house for a few days before I get killed.
The rides I did up in the Lakes were ace though. I managed a few rides over Whinlatter and a couple up at Honister and Newlands. I’m much more confident about the Fred Whitton route now and hopefully the entry form I sent today will be successful. I reckon I rode all of the northern section of the route a couple of times anyway.
Before that though is the Canary Open MTB Enduro in March – 90K in lovely sunny Gran Canaria. What a way to end a week by the pool with Deb and the girls.
Watch you don’t go diving into the shallow end! ;0)
I did that once. Had to grow a beard until the cut heald. Nearly bit my fecking tongue off.
Put it on your list of “Things not to do”