With the recently repaired (x2) mountain bike in the back of the car, I set off to Whitelees for an exploratory cycle around the paths in order to establish how good the repair was or wasn’t.
The weather wasn’t looking good in Stewarton so I had no illusions it would be any better up at the moor. That said, snow wasn’t part of my game plan. By the time I had reached the car park it was properly flakin’ it doon. Nae messin. That put my inner chimp into full on panic mode and the demons were running riot inside the vast empty space between my ears. I have to start sometime, this was that time, so stop being a wimp and get your fat ass out the car.
Bike assembled – gear on – get going!
First few metres went perfectly – got feet into position and backside settled like a natural – now gearing up (no pun intended) for the first gear change and it was pivotal for the success or failure of this repair test. Praise be – as smooth as a babies bottom. Just as if it’d just come off the production line.
All was forgiven with the technician in question. He’d come good and fitted a new shifter (free of charge) which was in fact doing a sublime job of getting the chain onto that top ring. All systems go – or so I thought!
I made the hilarious drop down to the first turbine and managed to coast all the way to the top without touching a single turn of the pedals – maybe that says more about my body mass than anything else. Turned to the left, headed into the wind and head down.
Made decent progress, but the better I felt I was doing, the worse the weather got. Snow was now lying on the paths and the sideways snow in the lugs was getting more and more numbing. I made my turn for the smaller loop, thinking 5 miles is still better than nae miles, trying not to feel deflated or downbeat about my endeavours.
My rather irritating updates kept me on track – telling just how slowly I was in fact going – so much for the inner pace-ometer. It soon became clear that despite the best intentions I had indeed set off too quick and in the wrong direction. I was now on the final stretch but no matter which one of the 21 available gears I was in – they all seemed too exhausting. Nothing for it but GAP – get aff ‘n’push. This seemed to be the final act of defeat – according to inner chimp – but thankfully for me I had my beautiful wives voice ringing in my ears too.
It was an ‘enjoyable’ wee run – but the bitter weather and lack of fitness got the better of me. I can’t do anything about the weather – but by going out in weather like that – I can and am doing something about the fitness.