I've just realised that it's Tuesday and I haven't yet written about the weekend's cycling. I don't know why, I just forgot. I've been fairly tired of late, weary, perhaps, is a better word: weary and pissed off for no particular reason, just a nagging sense of injustice and, of course, an annoying, murmuring anger bubbling up under the surface, probably linked with this shitty country and it's awful political classes. God, they've made a right mess of things, the Tories. Listen, I'm not going to go on about it, but I guess I'm like a lot of people, just fed up with fucking Brexit and Theresa May and Gove and Rees-Mogg and fucking Boris Johnson. The 10 o'clock news is on. Katya Adler is explaining that there's a lot of uncertainty ahead.
So this weekend we rode to the Tatsfield Bus Stop, twice, and the slow way. On one of the days we rode down Hesiers Hill and found a huge pile of crap some wankers had dumped in the middle of the road. Who are these people? Fly tipping is becoming a regular problem for cyclists. Often there are road closures and I'm sure that they closed Hesiers Hill to traffic at some stage over the weekend. A couple of Lycra Monkeys were on their mobile phones calling the police. I took a photo and later tweeted the image, which was later retweeted by Andy, so here's hoping something was done.
It must have been Sunday when we saw the huge pile of crap dumped in the road. The weather, I recall, was pleasant, the skies blue. On Saturday there was drizzly rain, but we still went out because it was so fine it was almost unnoticeable. Saturday I was feeling really weary. So weary that I almost aborted. I'm glad I didn't. We managed to get two rides in, both around 17 miles. On both occasions, Andy departed at The Ridge and I rode the off-road path towards Warlingham.
Not much is happening, apart from Brexit and knife crime and racist attacks. The UK is quickly becoming the laughing stock of the world and I genuinely do feel ashamed to be British. Now I know how the Americans felt under George 'Dubya' Bush.
My bike is in need of a jet clean and hopefully I'll sort it out next weekend. Nothing worse than a filthy bike.
I really can't think of anything else to say or discuss. Oh, I'm reading a great book at the moment: All Together Now by Mike Carter, yes, he who wrote One Man and His Bike. It's a good book, but a little depressing as it deals with the state of the nation – not a good subject at the moment.
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| Flytipping at the bottom of Hesiers Hill |
It must have been Sunday when we saw the huge pile of crap dumped in the road. The weather, I recall, was pleasant, the skies blue. On Saturday there was drizzly rain, but we still went out because it was so fine it was almost unnoticeable. Saturday I was feeling really weary. So weary that I almost aborted. I'm glad I didn't. We managed to get two rides in, both around 17 miles. On both occasions, Andy departed at The Ridge and I rode the off-road path towards Warlingham.
Not much is happening, apart from Brexit and knife crime and racist attacks. The UK is quickly becoming the laughing stock of the world and I genuinely do feel ashamed to be British. Now I know how the Americans felt under George 'Dubya' Bush.
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| Andy took this shot of our bikes at the bus stop on Sunday |
I really can't think of anything else to say or discuss. Oh, I'm reading a great book at the moment: All Together Now by Mike Carter, yes, he who wrote One Man and His Bike. It's a good book, but a little depressing as it deals with the state of the nation – not a good subject at the moment.
