1st September. Home to Hospital route

What a palava it was getting out this morning. I have a little yellow bag. It looks like an old fashioned gym bag, the type that we had at school in the 70s and I cannot find it. It cannot have gone far but it was not being found today. I needed it to pop a pair of trainers in so that I could do the home to hospital route and give a dog a quick walk en route. Plan B to the rescue. I decided that I’d put my MTB shoes on and change the PX pedals to SPDs.

Once I’d found spare pedals and a spanner, it quickly became apparent that my stupid wrist is not strong enough to undo my road pedals. Plan C was put in to action. I’ll take the Spesh but it’s got no pedals on it and my stupid wrist isn’t strong enough to do the pedals up tight. I’m getting bloody fed up with this wrist. Plan D was to take Kenn’s Giant Revel. Once I’d got the Spesh back out, and the lawnmower, and a couple of big plant pots, scared the mahoosive spider away and manhandled the Giant Revel out I discovered that it had a flat rear tyre but it was probably only because it’s not been used for a couple of months. It was then that Kenn said that the track pump was at our Mark’s place and I didn’t fancy using my very funky high pressure pump after a few pumps as it made my wrist hurt. Anyway, when I tried to move Kenn’s seat I couldn’t budge the QR lever as my wrist isn’t strong enough. You may be getting a theme here.

Plan E was required. I went back upstairs and up the ladder to the loft. I’m not fond of the loft as it’s dark and spidery up there. There was no sign of my day rucksack, only Kenn’s huge one which is no good. So I left the dark and spidery loft and had a really really good rootle under the bed. No spiders there. Hey presto, I managed to find my day rucksack under there – I was actually looking for a large musette sort of bag which I knew I had about somewhere but the rucksack would do.

Trainers in bag. I got my road shoes on and the Planet X out and I even got a leg thrown over the bike when it tipped it down with rain. Bike back propped in the hall while I dashed and grabbed the, now damp, washing off the line. Finally I got the door locked and managed to ride down the road.

Boy oh boy, was I pleased to finally hit the open road 50 minutes that little lot took. 50 whole, wasted minutes when I could have taken the pretty route. I got to my client’s house, changed into trainers, walked the dog, changed back into road shoes and was back on the bike. I made super time to the hospital and was 7 seconds slower than my PB but I’m not sure that it would have counted as I stopped in the middle. It was a great ride and I loved, adored even, every second of it. I would have been quite happy to ride back again but I had to put the bike in the car and go and walk another client’s dog and then get back for Sister in Law and her Hubs to visit.

8.21 in 30:42

1192.07 mi at 13.77 mi/h

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About RosieRosie

RosieRosie is a woman of a 'certain age' - whatever the hell that is supposed to mean, known. I feel about 26. I have no idea what I look like as some older woman keeps getting in the way when I look in the mirror. Married, to someone who is a bit indifferent towards me. I have a proper wanderlust and have finally moved - using the housing exchange system from - where I started in Inverness, down to Cornwall. It's taken since September 2011, when I left Inverness until March 2016 to get to Cornwall. That's not too shoddy with a swap here and a swap there, saving up again for each move. I am going to move again though. I can't handle the hills. My knees are 10 years too old for around here. Not ruling out Cornwall in the future but, for now, my riding is suffering. I love my bikes, I love my dogs and I love guitars. They all keep my busy.
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