To Sevenoaks and then to Tatsfield Village...

To a certain extent I've lost (or I'm losing) my grip on reality. I'm glad, however, that I'm now off for Christmas, which is good news. I need the rest. It's been busy at work and we've all been working at home for most of the year. While I rather enjoyed the summer lockdown (that word 'lockdown' was meaningless to anybody who owned a bike) I haven't been too happy with the latest bout of restrictions. Why? Because the weather has closed in, cycling is less frequent and when I'm not working, well, what is there to do? I've had a few walks around the block, but I've been unable to motivate myself to ride the bike. This week, I've only cycled 21 miles, although, as I write this, I am considering a ride to somewhere and if I can manage a 20-miler (I can definitely manage it) my total will go over the 40-mile marker, meaning that a ride to Velo Barn tomorrow (Saturday) will mean a weekly total of something like 60+ plus. Not bad considering past weekly totals that have hovered around 35-40 miles.

I know Andy's been getting out there. I've been following his Strava feed. Mainly local rides, which is what I should be forcing myself to do, but as we've both been saying, it's those low-mileage local rides that soon add up. If I could just motivate myself to ride, say, Tuesdays and Thursdays that would be 20 miles (two laps each) and to be honest, it's the two laps that demotivates me. Perhaps I need to work out a local 10-miler that doesn't repeat itself. Repetition = monotony = demotivation = no cycling. I need to get out there and today must be a 20-miler, perhaps a ride to Tatsfield village via Beddlestead Lane and then back via Beech Farm Road and Washpond Lane, that would be good.

Only three miles to Sevenoaks?

My last ride was on Sunday. I rode out later than usual because of the rain and I sat outside the Velo Barn with a cappuccino and a slice of coffee and walnut cake. To be honest, I'm getting fed up with the combination. I might revert to tea and skip the cake because the latter is a bit squidgy, overly moist, perhaps, but not best of breed, put it that way. And I've started wondering whether the cake cancels out the health benefits of the ride. I think we all know it does.

It's 0823hrs, Saturday morning, and I'm sitting at the dining room table, lap top on, listening (for the first time in while) the Today programme on Radio 4, they've just interviewed Larry Lamb about Barbara Windsor, who has died, aged 83, after a long battle with dementia. I interviewed her back in the eighties in a pub in Amersham, a nice woman, but unfortunately I was let down by technology. My tape recorder wouldn't work and I remember driving all the way from Brighton early in the morning, in the rain, and I wasn't feeling too healthy either.

I think if I leave shortly I might be lucky on the ride front. Certainly if I head out within the next 30 minutes. I didn't go out yesterday (Friday) so I need some decent mileage today.

Saturday morning: to Sevenoaks!

Riding to Sevenoaks in Kent wasn't the plan. The plan was to head for Dunton Green and then ride back, but when I reached the road sign just before entering Dunton Green I noted that Sevenoaks was only three miles away. Riverhead was two. So off I went. Initially I was thinking of simply riding to the Velo Barn, but as I said earlier, I'm going off of the coffee and walnut cake and and I can take or leave a cappuccino (what was wrong with me, getting into drinking coffee?). Anyway, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

I rode the fast way along the 269 and then took a left on to Pilgrim's Lane. My plan was to have a break at Bojangles in Dunton Green, but it was closed and then, as I say, I pushed on to Sevenoaks. There were plenty of other cyclists around, mainly Lycra monkeys, but the ride was good. Parts of Sundridge Lane were flooded, puddles stretched across the width of the road, but conditions generally were good. I didn't hang around either: I didn't have any tea with me and because I didn't have a mask I couldn't really stop anywhere, which was mildly annoying as I spotted Malabar, a coffee shop in Riverhead, but even with a mask I was in two minds as I was a good 90 minutes away from home.

I was on the bike for three hours and when I reached home it was gone 1130. The weather was drizzly and by the time I reached home I was damp, that's probably the best way to describe the state of my clothing. Damp right through to the cycling shorts. After a cup of tea I fixed up a Samsung HD television in one of the upstairs bedrooms and then messed around changing passwords on things because we had upgraded the WiFi. Annoyingly, for some reason, I've lost all the apps (Netflix etc) on the television downstairs and the Sonos has gone too. Other than that all is fine [later I managed to fix both].

Tatsfield village to meet Andy...

It's Sunday morning now and in 10 minutes I'll be out on the bike again. During the week new lights arrived and they're pretty powerful.

I fixed my new front light to the bike and headed for Tatsfield on a grey morning that constantly threatened rain. When I reached the village, Andy was there and we sat and chatted about bikes. Should I have abandoned the Kona Scrap? No, of course not, it was fine, although the Specialized Rockhopper is far more suitable for our rides with its 27 gears (as opposed to 16) but then, let's face it, for 10 years I rode the Kona and while it was always in a state of disrepair (there was always a faulty brake or a dodgy gear) I rode everywhere on it and it's still in the garage now with two flat tyres. It needs a service and possibly a new bottom bracket, who knows? I'm planning on getting it serviced soon.

Andy's Kona Blast, Tatsfield, Sunday 13 Dec*

The ride back from Tatsfield was wet. It started raining as soon as we mounted our bikes for the return journey and intensified as the ride progressed. By the time we parted company at the top of Slines Oak Road in Woldingham it was chucking it down. The thing about rain is this: if you're caught out in it you simply get on with the task of getting to your destination. If it's raining before you leave the house, the chances are you'll abort the ride. Listen, while I think the best thing to do is to get on out there, I too (more often than not) can't resist an abort text at the slightest sign of rain. Because, let's face it, riding in the rain is no fun, but I suppose the thing is to judge it correctly. A fine, light rain is probably alright, but it's the slightly heavier and more consistent downpour that makes a ride not worth the bother.

And talking of wet weather, I found a traditional cycling cape online the other day, and I'm seriously thinking about buying it**: it's high viz, has a hood and apertures through which you put your hands and I reckon it'll keep me 100% dry. Basically, it's a tent that you wear.

* Photo: Andy Smith

** I've bought it!