I AM a Racing Snake!
I'm sorry no updates for a couple of weeks. I moved my Broadband service from BT to TalkTalk on the 12th of April and it's still off. Unhappy face. Thank God for great neighbours. I told Andy on Monday and he immediately shared his WIFI password. I'm now on his network waiting (and waiting and waiting) for mine to be fixed. Thanks Andy! Anyway on with the blog...
Well I'm not quite a racing snake. Unlike my mate John I know that middle aged spread in lycra is not a pretty sight. And so in Majorca last week we were chasing proper racing snakes around the island. Well I say chase - more like getting overtaken one helluva lot...
I was not prepared for the experience of arriving in the Mecca for snakes. I had my Indiana Jones moment - you remember where he and his better half dropped into a tomb with floor and walls covered with the black slimy suckers (1). Turns out that Majorca truly is Heaven for snakes at this time of year. Thousands of the blighters, Brits, Germans, more Germans etc, all slithering around in packs gobbling up the occasional old, slow, fat MAMIL or two on cronks (2).
Yes we had cronks. Matt black things, shiny once upon a time but having suffered 20 years in the sun had all the patina of a 1980's Spanish sunburnt car. With a gel seat and indexed gears that had, for all I could make out, a bad case of arthritis.
Its all part of the prep work for LEJOG. I am now very happy that my legs will make it OK. 160 miles or so riding up a lot of hills over 4 days with the legs improving each day on a cronk chasing snakes was good fun. Gotta take my hat off to John for suggesting it as it was perfect prep at just the right time...
So there I was, riding on a long uphill gradient and this German snake started to pass me. Beautifully coiffured with slick everything riding a razor thin snowflake light carbon fibre bike. Then his mate, then another, and another... all identical but to me not really going that much faster than this particular fat bloke on his cronk. So I joined the back of the peloton and surprisingly found it easy to ride along with them. Like being sucked along by an invisible force. Must have been as funny as hell. A few snakes travelling in the opposite direction virtually twisted their heads off at the sight of it and John who was stood at a road junction ahead waiting for me had his gob open and jaw on the floor as I cruised past with the best of them... Scheisse! Zis iz not funny said the Berliner at the traffic lights... LMFAO!
And that's not all. I developed such a sore arse that day 5 riding was canned. I was almost screaming each time I settled on the saddle by day 4. Fecking gel seats are not for distance riding. Wish I'd brought my Brooks saddle with me. John did. Humpf...
Right now I'm ready for my final set of rides. I'm planning a run to Hornsea on the East Yorkshire coast then up to Ravenscar and back home. Another 160 miles or so camping with a fully laden bike. I've been test eating compo rations (Savoury rice, corned beef etc) to check out the stuff I'll likely eat if I cannot find a place to, er, eat. And I've got all the rehydration stuff sorted and have test packed the panniers. That resulted in me taking approx half the stuff back out of the bags to get the damn things closed. Wash and go it is then.
Its getting close. Just another 10 days or so before I catch the train to Penzance. Oooh I'm so looking forward to it!
Speak soon..
(1) Sucker - old toothless grey haired snakes. Never British. Can give a nasty love bite if provoked.
(2) Cronk - northern term for an old bike, always with rusty wheels, bent frame and broken gears and gel seats. Often ridden by Night Worrits. Easily sourced from council rubbish tips; or, Amsterdam Central Station. A 10 page risk assessment should be undertaken before riding one..
Well I'm not quite a racing snake. Unlike my mate John I know that middle aged spread in lycra is not a pretty sight. And so in Majorca last week we were chasing proper racing snakes around the island. Well I say chase - more like getting overtaken one helluva lot...
I was not prepared for the experience of arriving in the Mecca for snakes. I had my Indiana Jones moment - you remember where he and his better half dropped into a tomb with floor and walls covered with the black slimy suckers (1). Turns out that Majorca truly is Heaven for snakes at this time of year. Thousands of the blighters, Brits, Germans, more Germans etc, all slithering around in packs gobbling up the occasional old, slow, fat MAMIL or two on cronks (2).
Yes we had cronks. Matt black things, shiny once upon a time but having suffered 20 years in the sun had all the patina of a 1980's Spanish sunburnt car. With a gel seat and indexed gears that had, for all I could make out, a bad case of arthritis.
Its all part of the prep work for LEJOG. I am now very happy that my legs will make it OK. 160 miles or so riding up a lot of hills over 4 days with the legs improving each day on a cronk chasing snakes was good fun. Gotta take my hat off to John for suggesting it as it was perfect prep at just the right time...
So there I was, riding on a long uphill gradient and this German snake started to pass me. Beautifully coiffured with slick everything riding a razor thin snowflake light carbon fibre bike. Then his mate, then another, and another... all identical but to me not really going that much faster than this particular fat bloke on his cronk. So I joined the back of the peloton and surprisingly found it easy to ride along with them. Like being sucked along by an invisible force. Must have been as funny as hell. A few snakes travelling in the opposite direction virtually twisted their heads off at the sight of it and John who was stood at a road junction ahead waiting for me had his gob open and jaw on the floor as I cruised past with the best of them... Scheisse! Zis iz not funny said the Berliner at the traffic lights... LMFAO!
And that's not all. I developed such a sore arse that day 5 riding was canned. I was almost screaming each time I settled on the saddle by day 4. Fecking gel seats are not for distance riding. Wish I'd brought my Brooks saddle with me. John did. Humpf...
Right now I'm ready for my final set of rides. I'm planning a run to Hornsea on the East Yorkshire coast then up to Ravenscar and back home. Another 160 miles or so camping with a fully laden bike. I've been test eating compo rations (Savoury rice, corned beef etc) to check out the stuff I'll likely eat if I cannot find a place to, er, eat. And I've got all the rehydration stuff sorted and have test packed the panniers. That resulted in me taking approx half the stuff back out of the bags to get the damn things closed. Wash and go it is then.
Its getting close. Just another 10 days or so before I catch the train to Penzance. Oooh I'm so looking forward to it!
Speak soon..
(1) Sucker - old toothless grey haired snakes. Never British. Can give a nasty love bite if provoked.
(2) Cronk - northern term for an old bike, always with rusty wheels, bent frame and broken gears and gel seats. Often ridden by Night Worrits. Easily sourced from council rubbish tips; or, Amsterdam Central Station. A 10 page risk assessment should be undertaken before riding one..
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