Dusty Trails

It was a lovely hot weekend and I was out of London, so what better way to spend an hour and a half than by blasting some bridleways in the woods?

That’s exactly what I did.

There’s not much to say about the route – it’s one I’ve done plenty before (although interestingly Sports Tracker suggests that doing it faster uses fewer calories…) but the conditions made it even more fun than ever. Steep chalk-based climbs became ridable, the sun flashed between the trees, everything was green and scorched brown, corners just rolled away and the descents were fast, dusty and loose, leaving me hanging on the edge and smiling broadly as I threaded through the trees and clattered over the stones and dry ruts. The day just begged me to hit it harder and so I hammered the downhills and enjoyed the sweat dripping from me on the ups.

My arms ended up scored from the brambles hanging over the trail as I tore through them and felt tyres grip on the smooth dirt into each corner.

Dusty bike and bramble-slashed arms. Fun

For all the slogging through the mud and rain and still smiling, this is what it’s all for. This is where you have a perma-grin slashed through your dust caked sweaty face and every superb section is always too short.

Elsewhere the praise keeps coming for the Tour winner, albeit in a more understated way than last year, although it did include this from one of the sponsors:

And in Wales there’s yet more awesome riding on the brink of opening. It must be time for another trip there.

A