Racing Snakes ain't that racy...

We're in Scarbados for a couple of days.  Weather will be OK today so I'm going to ride to Whitby along Sustrans route 1, the 'cinder track'.  The next 3 days looks crap so need to make the best of it.  Today's sunrise was also shared by Kathryn with the Beeb and shows a haar rising above the castle.  We might make it onto the telly.

Ok so I jest and giggle a little about MAMILS and other such lycra clad creatures that whizz about North Yorkshire.  There definitely out in force now that the weather is improving.  I note that there are 3 types:

There's the skinny Black Manba that's incapable of making its own tracks so only ever travels on tarmac surfaces.  Kinda leggy, thin and angular in appearance, shiny black with luminous stripes on their end bits they make a snap crackle and popping noise like a bowl of Rice Krispies if ever accidentally trod upon.

Then there's the Knobbly that leap out at you from dense undergrowth.  Notionally heavily feathered in strips of coloured lycra and emitting strange gasping sounds akin to a parrot with a bad smoking habit.

And finally the Night Worrit that bothers bus drivers and other road users after dark.  Similar to the Black Manba but with hooded matt black skin, are non luminous, and are predicated to swooping along pavements / on the wrong side of the road and through red traffic lights.  Its a faux MAMIL and is not on the endangered species list.  It's vermin so fair game for roadkill.  Note Gypsies will eat all else first as the Worrit has a horrid taste.

All have a tendency to sneak up on fat men on bikes.  I was minding my own business today miserably ploughing along with the new Marathon Plus boots on the bike (I hate them - they're a higher rolling resistance and the reason for my 'moving though jelly' comment described in an earlier blog entry) when with a sudden sssssssss one whizzed past with its pointy head down and arse in the air.  God, scared the crap into me!

Most of the cinder track was mud and rocks and big puddles with the occasional rough paved stretch.   All up hill.  No downhill.  It's a bit too daunting for fledgling Knobbly types although some knobbly girl guides were out playing in the mud on a charity run.  Its called the cinder track, not because (so I thought) it having a reasonable cinder surface, but because it was the old Scarborough steam train route up the eastern end of the North Yorkshire moors along the coast to Whitby so spattered with 'cinders'.  How the hell the trains chuffed up the long steep grades back in the day beats me.

6 miles in the puncture proof (hah!) back tyre was flat.  Marathon Plus tyres are supposed to be the best but somehow a big black spiky thorn of a thing, probably shed by a Manba, beat the 5mm thick hard rubber protection.  Its all part of the prep I say whilst sat in warm spring sunshine covered in wet black mud fighting with a gritty back wheel and a set of feeble tyre levers to get the bloody tyre off.  Its now I find that the puncture protection also acts like a Gorilla's grip and refuses to let thorns go.  Thank God I had a set of needle pliers with me.  Still, it took 10 minutes to get it out.  I think I've damaged the tyre :-(.

So I'm going back to the reliable standard Schwalbe Marathon tyres.  Hey, there may be more risk of getting punctures but at least I'll be able to remove the thorn / sliver of flint / shard of glass without wrecking the carcass.

Talking of carcasses, methinks I'll encourage a few bus drivers to run over a couple of Night Worrits tonight as they always give cyclists a bad name.

Speak soon.