Springing into action

Spring almost knocking at the door, it’s high time to dust the cobwebs off the bikes and us, and start to focus on getting some of those miles in readiness for the big ride later in the year.

Tyres inflated, water bottles filled, feet clipped in ... and away we go. Or rather seeing as I’m writing this now post-ride, maybe that should be “away we went”? No matter!! Sunday greeted us with watery sunshine and a nip in the air, which to be honest got nippier as we progressed; but after all, we’re barely out of February.

Plan of action – a seventy kilometre (40 odd miles in old money) ride, taking us out through the country lanes of Connington and Fenstanton, before finally reaching the market town of St Ives, where we left all the cars behind and joined the Guided Busway.  For those who don’t know the area, the Guided Busway is a veritable Cambridgeshire County Council financial white elephant (long story for another day) but it does make for a safe place to cycle while clocking up the miles.

For some, forty miles is no big deal, and to be honest I’d agree. On this occasion it’s a fairly flat ride too. But you have to begin your season somewhere and this was as gentle an introduction as we could get away with. In the coming weeks and months rides will become longer and more regular, as we introduce our muscles to consecutive days in the saddle; for now though it’s a question of reminding the brain what stiff muscles feel like and how numb (in my case) my fingers become when they’re fixed in one position for too long.


Our ride was relatively trouble free. There was some evidence of the flotsam and jetsam washed up after the recent floods, but with a little care we got through it unscathed; before we knew it we’d headed out through Long Stanton and Oakington before reaching Worlds End, better known as Histon village, the place where  the Busway runs out shortly after and our marker point for a quick banana break before we turn around and head back from whence we came.  Highlight of the day, aside of the warm drink when we reached base, was a little boy on a bike, who remarked “Daddy, it’s Bradley Wiggins”! It was probably the yellow shirt that did it; it certainly wasn’t the speed I was riding or the haircut!!