Back to reality

 As it was chucking it down with rain my phone was beeping message alerts from various Red Kite Riders who didn't want to get wet and so I set off totally unprepared for the mornings ride having had no breakfast, not even a cup of tea, wearing the wrong gear, lycra shorts and sou'wester jacket, happy in the knowledge that I would be back at Rock HQ almost as soon as I had left as no one would be brave (read stupid) enough to turn up. What I hadn't counted on was what I now call the Davina affect, where seemingly normal people ignore all indicators that strenuous activity should only be attempted in perfect conditions and so I soon found myself at Red Kite HQ faced with the keenest of the bunch, two of them, wanting to take on Stonewall Hill.

What I enjoy about cycling is that the moment you think you have it licked something comes along and throws a proverbial spanner in your wheel. So fresh from mental hill climbs of last week, some after 65 miles in wind rain fog and hail, I was pretty confident of getting up the fabled Stonewall Hill and still have legs left to dance victory jig waiting for the others. Had I had breakfast, been wearing clothing that wasn't doing me like a boil in the bag kipper and approached the hill with some caution rather than thinking I was Bradley's nemesis then I might have got a bit further than I did. As it was soon after I began thinking what was all the fuss about my lungs popped out of my backside, I coughed out the remaining internal organs across my handle bars, reached critical mass  thanks to over heating and my legs stopped spinning. The push of shame began and I was over taken by the King of the Mountain in the yellow jacket as I fought my way to the top. There we both waited for the third of our group to join us, which was when the KotM gave us sound advice on how to conquer said hill. For me it involved losing half my body weight. The downhill was a nightmare, not because I got another puncture and had to wrestle my steed to a safe halt from Mach 7 on steel rims but because the road we took from the top took us to a point that was 18 miles from the start. After three calorie free hours and 35 miles I made it back to Red Kite HQ where a pack of hot cross buns had to be forcibly removed from my grip.