Back to Racing

Back to Racing

My first road race…where do I start?

The fact I got to the start line at all?

Almost losing the nut for the end of my axle?

Or, the fact I completely miscalculated the amount of laps that were left?

On the morning of the race I was a mess. I genuinely thought about just not racing at all. Why? The fear of getting dropped. In Welsh Crit Champs last year the group almost split in two. The faster girls were way ahead. I come to Pimbo to race…not get dropped again…ha!

I even said to Ryan who was with me on the side of the road at the start line, “I don’t even want to race anymore”.

I was dreading the start gun and the girls just disappearing up the road.

But the start gun went and I managed to hold on to the bunch.

Going round was a learning curve. I was constantly waiting for some sort of attack off the quicker girls, but nothing really happened. Holding onto the back was tough at times, but I held up better than I thought I would…until I sped up a lap early than the finish lap.

I picked up my pace to try and get myself in a better position, only to see the others stay at the same pace. When I realised we had one last lap my legs had already blown up. Embarassment or just genuinely feeling gutted at what position I could have maybe got, I was so frustrated with myself.

But either way, it is my first road race out of the way.

Back to Racing

Racing in general isn’t going great for me to be honest. I decided to try and make it in time for the club time trial this week, only to get a few minutes in and my bike pump fell out of my pocket. My only option was to turn back and get it in case it was in the middle of the road. I had riders behind me coming so I didn’t want them and their expensive bikes to hit the deck because of me! Thankfully they let me restart and I could get the frustration out of my system…ha! I even smahsed my target time too.

So pray that I’ve got all of the bad luck out of the way???

RAF Cycling and the CiCLE Classic

My adventure to the Cicle Classic started late last year when we decided that as 2018 was the 100th anniversary of the formation on the Royal Air Force, it would be pretty cool to get the RAF cycling team into one of the big races in the UK.

We asked the organisers of many of the UK’s premier races, but reduced field sizes and the large number of UK pro teams was making it difficult to fit us in. But then the amazing Colin Clews said he had space for a team of four riders.

Things had escalated; now we weren’t just racing a UK professional race, this race was part of the UCI European tour.

Time for some last minute panic training…

So what makes the Rutlan-Melton International CiCLE so special?

Now in its 14th year, it is widely regarded as the longest, hardest one day race in the UK, the CiCLE classic is contested by 36 teams over 117 miles. What makes this race unique in the UK is the 11 special sectors taking the race “off road” down farm tracks and dirt tracks. This makes punctures and mechanical issues very common, so spare wheels and support crew can make all the difference.

Race Day

We were the lowest ranked team in the race, and I was rider number 192 (the last man in the race). Turning up to the team area we realised just how deep we were. Team buses, following cars, mechanics, gazebos, turbo trainers for warm ups. All the riders had to do was turn up and get on their bikes. We on the other hand turned up in our own cars and set about sorting our bikes and kit out by ourselves.

We did have matching kit though…

We met our 2 dedicated helpers and passed them the array of random drinks bottles and spare wheels we had. As they made their way to points on the course, we donned our helmets and headed off to the start area to sign on.

The start area was buzzing with spectators. It was pretty cool to walk up on stage to sign on as we were introduced to the amassing crowd. Funny moment of the day, the commentator introduced us as the team of RAF Pro Cycling, ha, he must have been used to saying “pro cycling” at the end of every team. There is nothing “pro” about our team, we all have day jobs.

Lining up on the start line was a surreal experience; I was stood next to guys I have watched on TV! There were Olympians, former world and national champions and a handful of riders who had just returned from the Commonwealth Games. And there I was about to ride the same race as them!

So at 11.00 on the dot, the race started. The first mile was neutralised behind the lead car, which was scary as everyone was jockeying for position. The flag dropped and I found myself sprinting as hard as I could as everyone accelerated. I looked down at my computer and we were doing 45mph!!! It was at that point I knew we were in for a long hard day in the saddle.

The first 30 miles were on the wide roads around Rutland Water, and with the roads totally closed to traffic we had both sides of the road to ride on. I’ve never ridden in a group of 192 people, and I’m not going to lie it is rather scary, everyone was nervous and trying to move up towards the front. I was just trying to stay upright and not get dropped.

Going into the first special sector at 30 miles there was a huge acceleration, nearly 200 guys were going to do a 90 degree left turn from a 2 lane main road onto a single lane farm track. It was hairy to say the least.

I found myself about 2 thirds of the way down the bunch. Just as I thought “this isn’t too bad” 2 riders from the same team collided in front of me and went down forcing me onto the grass to get round. Thankfully it was dry and not muddy. So from then on the field would only thin out further.

Ian, one of the other RAF riders, was not so lucky. He punctured mid sector and then had to wait for the neutral service car to get a spare wheel.

Leaving the sector I was just relaxing and commending myself on surviving when the bunch accelerated and I was forced to sprint to keep up. I saw the gap get bigger in front of me and thought it could be all over. Thankfully the small group of riders around me wanted to work hard to try and get back on. We eventually made it back to the main group, which was now noticeably smaller than it was a few miles earlier. I saw my two remaining RAF teammates who were equally as shocked as I was.

The next 20 miles consisted of me hanging onto the rear part of the group as we went over hills and down narrow lanes. Every couple of miles I would see someone crash or puncture. Including one rider from a European team go careering off the road into an electric fence with barbed wire on the top. That looked very nasty.

In the early part of the sector at 53 miles the worst happened, I punctured. My heart sank, this was not good. The only thing to do was keep pedalling. I rode the rest of the sector on a flat, my rear wheel sliding all over the place as riders shot passed me.

Now puncturing is bad luck, but this was the luckiest puncture I could have had. As I excited the sector I saw an RAF jersey at the side of the road. Of all the places for Silky, one of our two helpers to stand it was here. After a slightly fumbled wheel change I was back on my bike and beginning the chase back on. Soon enough I was back in to convoy of cars following the race and working my way up. The convoy is a scary place, the vehicles can be unpredictable, especially on narrow roads. Team cars suddenly stopping to help their riders, riders being dropped and going backwards, and all in a cloud of dust kicked up by the 40+ vehicles.

After 10 miles of chasing I finally got back to the back of the bunch. As I made it back on who should I see sitting pretty at the back, Dan, one of my teammates. We had a quick chat and swapped drinks bottles (I had one of his flavoured powders and he had one with just plain water).

Back in the bunch I was sitting fairly happy and then just before the 80 mile point I cramped bad on one of the steep climbs losing contact with the back of the bunch. Bizarrely, Dan suffered the same fate at the same time. After giving each other a quick pep talk, we decided to not give up and press on as a pair and try and get back.

We spent 10 miles weaving through the convoy trying as hard as we could; we got within 25m of the bunch as it hit a sector. The acceleration was too much for us to live with and the bunch disappeared into the distance.

We kept working, knowing that if we could get to the finishing circuit after the 100 mile point we could finish the race. The only thing stopping us was the broom wagon, the last car in the race convoy. Once this car catches you, you are eliminated from the race.

As we pushed on Dan cramped again and dropped back. Now on my own I had the painful experience of carrying on as best I could, all the time passing riders that had been dropped and given up.

Then the inevitable happened, I was caught by the broom waggon at 97 miles. So close to the finishing circuit, but part of me was relieved that the suffering was over.

I took the straight line to the finish to watch the last part of the race. And eventually meeting up with Dan and Ian. Both of us stood there, covered in mud/dust and totally empty. We must have looked bad, the photographers all started taking photos of us and the state we were in.

Incredibly, Antony, the remaining RAF rider, was still in the race. He’d hung in there as the race exploded and was in one of the chasing groups. We all stood there to cheer him on, it didn’t matter that we were tired, cold, hungry and no longer in the race.

We started as a team and we would finish as a team.

Antony came down the finish straight leading his group, about 8 minutes down on the winner. But just surviving and finishing this race is a major achievement. That day, over 100 riders didn’t finish, many of them full time professionals.

In summary, that was the hardest 4.5 hours of my cycling career, and I’ve never been so proud of a DNF. This race is something special, totally unique and incredibly hard. I may never get another chance to ride it or even compete at this level, but I’m proud to have been part of it.

The CiCLE classic takes place at the end of April each year, and if you find yourself in the Rutland area I’d thoroughly recommend going to spectate. The crowds were amazing, and with the race making several passes of the same area, you can watch the race several times from one location.

The RAF 100 Baton Relay is currently on its way around the country, so go and find them on Facebook and see who how they’re celebrating 100 years of the RAF.

Lighthouse of Cap de Formentor

On the first day in Puerto Pollenca, the manic handful of early mornings and jam packed days had caught up with me. So whilst Ryan went off on his bike, I went for a run along the seafront.

A fairly chilled first day however lead to a day on our bikes with Ryan showing me around Puerto Pollenca. To ‘ease’ me into cycling in Mallorca we made our way out to the Lighthouse in Formentor. A road that climbed out of Puerto Pollenca before meandering down and down to the lighthouse.

Unfortunately it was far from a ‘training’ ride for Ryan as I felt the need to take photos at every viewpoint. Everywhere was just so damn pretty! It was pretty obvious I was the newbie to Mallorca.

Blue sea. Blue skies. A lot of the time all you could hear were birds and your tyres on the road.

It was bliss.

The first time riding my Liv and on dry roads for a good few months, I was certainly hesitant to descend. I was following Ryan and then all of a sudden it was like I flicked a switcn. Literally at the snap of my fingers my nerves went.

I’ve never ridden corners like it.

No potholes either, which was a definite bonus!

At the Lighthouse we didn’t actually stay that long. It was getting pretty busy and I didnt fancy getting cafe legs 15 mile in. We had a lot of hills to go back up…ha! Luckily our 30 mile loop could take us back along the seafront in Puerto Pollenca to Tollo’s. A cafe extremely popular with cyclists thanks to it being full of Bradley Wiggins memrobilia. With Nacho’s and coffee ordered we could of happily sat there in the sun all afternoon.

Dragging ourselves away from the sun, I ended up doing a session in the pool whilst Ryan went to do hill reps…you know the normal things you do on a holiday…!

I don’t think I could have anything but an active holiday to be honest. Training and then sitting by the pool in the afternoon seems to be a winning combination for me.

Got any traditions or habits you do on holiday? Got memories from routes you’ve ridden round Mallorca. Feel free to drop them in the comments below!

Women’s Road Races Worth Entering

Cycling

I’ve spent about a year having a go at the odd road race. Well just time trial and crit racing really. I have a British Cycling race license so I can just pop onto the British Cycling website and find a race to enter.

Unlike downhill, you get put into a category depending on your racing experience. I’m an inexperienced 4th cat wanting my 3rd category license. I just need to get the 12 points I need first, which as a female racing isn’t as easy as it looks.

The big hunt for women’s races begins as they are few and far between. Eagerly clicking on links for Crit or road races advertised only to find every race category imaginable but a women’s race.

I suppose the men have it just as difficult as they have to place well in their packed fields to get a point, but at least they can actually race I guess? There’s nothing worse than turning up to a race to find you’re the only female to turn up so you get thrown in with the men getting lapped every few trips round the circuit.

So, I thought I’d list a few races where there is actually a women’s category that needs filling up. Scrolling through the many races on British Cycling’s website, it can become quite a task clicking on each one to see if there’s a women’s category. So hopefully this will make things a little easier!

Lancaster University Spring Crit

Run by the Lancaster University Cycling Club at Salt Ayre Sports Centre, these would be great to kick off your race season for the year, or even if you just want to have a go! But make sure you’re quick, as this series is only during March!

Darley Moor / Ashfield Road Club

At Darley Moor Sports Centre in Derbyshire, Ashfield Road Club are running a crit race for categories 2, 3 and 4. Another series, there will be races on:

17th March

24th March

21st April

23rd June

Muckle Cycling Club Road Race, Northumberland

Taking place on the 31st May, Muckle CC are organising a 35 mile women’s road race in Northumberland. For categories 2, 3 and 4 and the 35 mile distance make it a great event to jump from crit racing to road racing. With a men’s race taking place on the same day, you and your partner/male cycling friends can make the trip together.

Aberystwyth Seafront Criteriums / Welsh Crit Champs

Much earlier than I anticipated this year, Welsh Crit Champs are taking place in Aberystwyth this year. Possibly for those more experienced riders, this race is being organised by Ystwyth Cycling Club. I had great fun racing Welsh Crit Champs last year, but it certainly wasn’t easy! Part of the Aberystwyth Cycling Festival, the little seaside town in Wales is going to be full of anticipation as the races take place.

Richard Kell Memorial Series

One for later in the season, these category 2/3/4 races are taking place through October on Abingdon Airfield in Oxfordshire. However, Abingdon Race Team are also organising a road race in April that might interest you.

Thinking of entering any I’ve listed? Then let me know in the comments as well as any women’s races I haven’t listed!

I can’t remember where this photo from a hill climb in Oswestry last year came from, so if youkre the photographer, let me know and I’ll give you credit!

Christmas Cards & All the Trimmings

It was a lazy start to the morning. I woke up, but instead of getting ready straight away I went downstairs to grab a coffee and some Weetabix (because this girl is rather fond of some Weetabix in the morning) and hopped back into bed to write some Christmas cards. Catching up on Made In Chelsea as well of course!

However, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be a fan of the big MiC. There’s always a drama and they just seem to go round in circles rather than resolve arguments about the most minuscule of things.

So, with some Christmas cards written and my tummy full of Weetabix I slowly got my things together to get out on my bike. With a million layers thanks to me being so pathetic in the cold…ha…I headed out with no real plan of where I was heading.

The hills probably weren’t the best idea yet with all of the snow refusing to melt, so I ended up following country lanes over into Cheshire instead.

Having completed assignments I wanted to get sorted before going back to work after Christmas the night before, it was so refreshing to be able to get up and ride my bike with a clear head. I can try and switch off from work, but those deadlines always seem to play on your mind until they’re done don’t they? I can actually enjoy Christmas and not feel guilty for those assignments I haven’t done yet…because they’re all done. It was a hard slog to get them done, but they’re finally sorted.

The weather was fairly pleasant actually so I thought a 20 mile ride would be a good distance to aim for. Since I’ve been spending more time sitting at my desk than exercising lately, my fitness isn’t exactly great so I’m just easing myself back into things. I could just ride along at my own pace and get my legs use to being on the bike again.

At one point in my ride I thought it was going to become quite interesting. I turn the corner and the road is completely covered in hedge cuttings. I mean it was like a carpet of hedge cuttings right across the road. Yet somehow my tyres coped and I got around my ride ok, although I did have to stop a few times to check them!

Apart from that it was a fairly relaxing ride to be honest. I pretty much used my Garmin to record the mileage as I knew the stats wouldn’t be anything amazing. Although as the sun started to come out on my way home I knew I’d made the right decision in going out in the first place. I can’t remember which cyclist it was, but they said earlier in the year that a short ride is better than no ride. And I can totally agree with them.

Now though? It’s definitely time for a brew.

Welsh Crit Champs 2017

What does it look like from distance? 

A group of people riding round a circuit in a set time plus 5 laps. The first person to cross the line after those 5 laps wins….

Ok, so I’m not selling that one very well. Hopefully I can do better if you read on.

Welsh Crit Champs wasn’t my first ever Crit race, but I’m certainly not an expert at it. I’d done a few ‘races’ where I actually just ended up being in the men’s race and consequently riding round on my own. There was one women’s race, but the circuit felt way too small for the amount of riders on it, but Welsh Crit Champs was most certainly different to all of those.

It was a circuit around the showground in Builth Wells (so a great size for racing!) and they had a women’s race with 11 competitors. I actually had someone to race against…winner.

Granted, those competitors were much stronger than an amateur like me, but still…the best I could do was try right?

If it’s not already obvious, Welsh Crit Champs was another spur of the moment entry. It sounded good at the time and I threw an entry in before they closed. 

Turning up, Welsh Cycling branding was everywhere (as would probably be expected) and lots of ‘team’ kits. I felt a bit out of place without team kit, but I am rather fond of my ASSOS shorts and Threo jersey combo right now…

Fashion choices aside…I needed to decide whether I’d actually sign on. It really felt like I was coming down with some sort of bug. A bug that actually turned out to be nerves.

I cast aside feeling unwell and decided to just get on with it. I had dragged Ryan all this way afterall…

With a few laps round the track to warm up, I soon found myself trying to keep up with the girls in my race. I quickly decided I was out of my depth. 


But…then I did actually manage to keep up with a small group of girls. We were sort of working as a team to get round, but with my lack of road knowledge, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing. Basically, everyone is suppose to take a turn on the front to ride into the wind, whilst the others sit on your tail. Taking turns is suppose to be quicker and less exhausting than riding alone.

40 minutes of trying to figure out what everyone else’s tactics were, my head had turned to mush. Yet, I still had the 5 extra laps to go before the finish!

A bad move by me which meant I finished the race leading the group around for two laps also meant I didn’t finish where I wanted to. Yet I still had great fun out there. It felt good to have girls to race against and push past mental barriers I’ve not been able to push past before. 

With all of the negative press cycling seems to be getting at the minute, it was great to see so many girls enjoying the sport still. Hopefully only more will come to enjoy it as much as I do.

#PugsNotDrugs

Ryan seems to think I’m not too bad at going up hills, so a hill climb is what I ended up doing. One of those old traditions of road cycling that rears its head through September and October every year.

Apart from going up a hill as fast as you can, I didn’t really know what to expect. I was familiar with the undulating climb out of Oswestry as it was the road I’d use to get to the downhill tracks at Moelfre. As mad as it sounds, I’d always wanted to ride it on a road bike. The surface was good and it was a fairly long climb. And now I was racing up it… Naturally, I wanted to ride down it too.

We went to warm up by heading up the 1.6 mile climb and down a little lane. I was thankful for this as my legs needed waking up a bit. It did almost feel counter productive with the descent back down to the bottom, but nevermind. Finding myself close to 40mph through no effort of my own was a surprise ha!

Promptly getting to the start line, Ryan was setting off ahead of me. Shortly before he set off we were both in hysterics after he blurted out ‘#pugsnotdrugs‘. It definitely calmed my pre-race nerves when the image of ‘Bella the Pug‘ popped back ito my head. 

I soon found myself heading through what was almost like a tunnel of trees before popping out into the open again. It wasn’t a straight forward climb, more of an undulating one. There was the first kicker, a dip in the middle and a steep shoot up just to finish your legs off with the sting of riding uphill having sunk in ages ago. My head completely went. I was trying to jump up the cassette to find an easier gear whilst still in the big ring. When I finally found the easiest gear, I was going up the last steep shoot towards the end. 

Trying not to get distracted by a cute dog watching on the side, I was definitely at max effort. I crossed the finish line and darted off down a side road where I could do nothing but rest my head on my handlebars. Only for a farmer to shout out,

“A bit tough up that bank?”

Just a bit…

Welsh Champs 2017: Llyn Brenig

Photo Credit: Welsh Cycling


For some bizarre reason I decided to enter a 20 mile Welsh Champs TT race. It was near Llyn Brenig, which is one of my favourite places thanks to Rally GB. It also involved some hills, which I apparently like going up at the minute.

On my recce ride last week it was blue skies, barely any wind, you could almost say it was a perfect day for Wales. Good enough for lots of photos! I fell in love with the route and couldn’t wait to race it.

From the photo-shoot with Ryan



The elation of surving a hard 20 miles!


Race day on the other hand had completely different circumstances. Rain. Wind. Just typical North Wales conditions really.

Brilliant. 

I got there before sign on was even suppose to open and I had no idea why. I couldn’t really warm up so there was nothing else I could do apart from wait for my start time. 

I thought I’d be fine in just a jersey, but decided to opt for a jacket instead last minute. Que rushed number swap from jersey to jacket…I may have pricked my fingers with the safety pins a few times!

I got to the start, then realised my Clif Energy blocks were still in the car.

Then to start I had a massive hill my legs just didn’t want to go up.

Becky, who rides for the Army, was so lovely! She went onto get 2nd so she had a mega ride!


It wasn’t exactly going as well as I’d planned. All of the other girls passed me not far off the start line and I felt like a bit of a numpty.

Why on earth did I think I’d be able to do this race?

My fitness was lower than it could be, certainly lower than it use to be. 

The further around I got, the more frustrated with myself I got.

Gosh I sound dramatic…ha!

Whilst I was trying to get use to tri bars, I had no idea if I was holding up any of the guys behind me. Before starting I joked the now National Champ would probably overtake me, and towards the end I was starting to think he would, despite starting half an hour after me. I tried to sprint up the final hill to the finish line, but my legs were having none of it. 

I crossed the finish line and my legs just burnt out.

I enjoyed pushing myself, but felt I could have given it more than I did. 

I loved being able to descend and lean into the corners dotted around the Evo Triangle, even if I was battling with the wind.

How cool are these for race numbers though?


Thanks to Welsh Cycling and everyone else who was involved in organising such a great event. Everyone was so lovely, racers and organisers, despite a complete rookie turning up…ha! Coming from downhill where I’d get moaned at a fair bit for holding guys up on the trail, it was good not to get it in TT’s too. 

Also a big thanks to my brother for driving me there. I don’t think I would have been in any fit state to drive home after it otherwise. Apparently I looked white as a ghost after finishing, so we headed to the Llyn Brenig cafe for breakfast before heading home. Racer’s diet all the way…

Does anyone else when they have an all day breakfast make a bacon toastie with the bacon and toast? Nope, probably just me…ha!

Now into hill climb season…yikes!

Why so slow Lucy? Why so slow?


Running into the Irish Sea

Half 6 was rather an early time to be woken up on the Sunday morning, but Ryan had the start line of a TT to be on for his race slot at 8.45. 

I waited for the first 15 minutes while he covered the 10 mile TT course in St Asaph. The last 5 minutes were me anxiously waiting to see if he’d get a sub 20 minute finish time or not. He did…just…at 19 minutes 52 seconds. The fastest he’s ever been on the course despite the strong winds. 

Averaging 30 mph isn’t exactly an easy task I guess.

An early start did mean we still had most of the day left to fill, which we’d do cycling along the coastal path.

The sea going from a dull blue rippled by the wind to a rich emerald every time the sun popped out from behind the clouds.

Seagulls bobbing up and down on the waves or flapping like crazy against the sea breeze and getting nowhere. 

The path twisting and turning along the coast with a new view around the corner. The odd steep piece of path with the potential to catch you out if you were in the wrong gear. 

Waves crashing against the rocks. The sounds of which I could listen to all day.

The rhythmic splashing as the waves go back and to.


Countless amounts of dogs dragging their owners to every new smell they pick up with wagging tails to match. 

A main road not too far away, but we were to pre-occupied with the sight of the sea.


Taking a break in a quaint coastal tea shop, full of unique & detailed gifts you’d struggle to find anything similar anywhere else.

Nautical scarves, photo frames and little trinkets with seaside quotes on the side like,

“Love anchors the soul.”


Filling ourselves with bacon butties and pots of tea.

Not those pathetic thin pieces of bacon, but the type you’d only find in a local butchers.

A tailwind pushing us back to the point at which we started.


Only to finish by running barefoot into the crashing waves as they crawled further and further up the pebbled beach.


Sand trickling between our toes and waiting with anticipation to see how big the next wave was going to be.


Our spontaneous trip into the sea was without spare clothes and towels after all…

And we’d be silly to expect the Irish Sea to be anything but cold. 

Just doing without a care for the consequences.

Every laugh and crashing wave making any worry, no matter how small, become insignificant. 


The pebbles warm as we walked back to the car park, but sharp at times against my wet and sandy feet meaning I had a piggy back to the van.

The seaside now bustling with people compared to the ghost town it appeared to be when we’d first arrived earlier that day. 

Fords and Lamb Tails

I’ve not written on here for a while and I’m really sorry about that! Being in the middle of exams my mind has been on other things, but I couldn’t leave it any longer.

I was still unsure on whether to go out when I woke up this morning. Surely I should get some more revision done? Yet waking up to more awful news, it only highlighted how important it is to find the balance between working and living is.


So I was off with the plan of going to Llangollen and back, although my legs were not a huge fan of my decision! It was clear I’d not ridden up any big hills for a while.

Thankfully it was sunny. I doubt I would have got very far if it was raining, especially with my legs aching minutes in.

It felt almost alien being on my bike with the amount of swimming I’ve been doing lately. It’s mad how the tables of turned. I’ve always loved cycling and running with swimming being ok. I could swim, but for all of one length. Now I’d say my swimming is stronger than my run!

I’ve always had an issue with one side of my body being stronger than the other, particularly my core. However, I think swimming is slowly sorting this out. Thanks to a Swim2Fit session at Total Fitness, where he coach got me breathing on both sides. 

This was one of the things that felt alien on the bike, my core seemed to be working differently than normal. Or maybe all of what I’ve just said is some random theory I’ve made up and it’s just absence from cycling being the issue! 

So I’m cycling along, legs hurting, but it was just nice to be outside. That’s the only thing with revision, it never really works outside.

It was a quiet Sunday morning and it was becoming a pleasant solo ride. Sometimes solo rides and time to yourself become rather enjoyable, whether you think you need time away from everything or not. I could change route whenever and explore places I’d not seen yet. I was crossing my fingers however that I wouldn’t get lost!

That’s why I’ve been swimming so much lately. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking. I can completely switch off in the pool. I did the same on my bike. All that was on my mind was what turning to take next! Not Airframe materials or the construction of aircrafts. I love those topics, but sometimes you just need a break! 

I was meandering through the moors towards World’s End, which isn’t all that far from Llandegla. The further I got into the hills, the quieter it became. Little fluffy lambs and their full tummies still with fur that’s crystal white. Some would dart off into the heather, others would stare at me in horror having no idea where to run. My legs were already dead at this point, so it’s not like I was going very fast!


I would have loved to take some photos of them, but I think it was a better idea to keep my legs turning the pedals…

It was soon time to start the descent towards Llangollen, but there was the tackling of a Ford to get across first…which thankfully happened with no dramas! So I could relax and carry on down the country lanes with scrag rock dominating the skyline on one side, and tall trees on the other.


The temptation to take photos was too much! I wish I could find a small enough DSLR to carry round with me on my bike though. iPhone photos never really do Wales justice!


Getting towards Crow Castle in Llangollen, I wanted to visit a cafe Ryan’s mentioned in the past. It was a lovely cafe, but didn’t take cards. And my card is all I had. So I had to cope with a banana and a Cliff Bar I’d thankfully packed instead. The kettle would be going on as soon as I got home however!


Rather than head to the Horseshoe Pass like I’d originally planned, I decided to stick to the country lanes to make my way back towards home. I just wish I could have navigated my route a bit better so I could stay on the country lanes longer. 

The route ended up being 38 miles, which is the longest route I’ve done for a while. I got home eventually…