On the Fiddle

The frequency of my posting suggests that I'm doing no where near as much riding as I should be. Blames lies squarely at the door of...the government. If they didn't put the bloody clocks' back, I'd have far more riding time during the week.

Back to business. My only ride of the week so far was on Saturday. Not the nicest or indeed warmest day of the year so far but needs must!

Jon and I set out from Sale with the intention of heading towards Buxton. It was pretty chilly but you soon warm up and the miles dissappear if you keep moving. We were in Wilmslow within about 30 mins, then on to Alderley Edge. Decision Time...Do we go straight on up to the Chelford crossroads or left up the exceedingly steep climb towards the 'edge'. Left it is then. Just to clarify, I hate this climb and I do mean hate. It catches you out by flattening out mid-way, only to kick back in at a steeper incline just as you think you've recovered. You also have the footballer wankermobiles flashing past you as you are blowing out of your arse too.

Jon had already been at the top a minute or so by the time I got there so we cracked straight on to Macclesfield.

Now in Macclesfield, this was the part I was really not looking forward to. A 30 minute climb up to the infamous Cat & Fiddle Pub. Jon sped off in his now characteristic style leaving me trying to squeeze an energy gel into my mouth and remember to breathe and pedal at the same time. As I climbed it got colder and wetter and then quite a bit misty. As I passed the sign for Rainow I remember how much further it was to the top. I plodded on progressing deeper into the damp mist. Soon enough I could just about make out the Cafe with Jon stood in the car park. I stopped to take a couple of photos' and then rode up to the cafe. He'd been there 7 minutes. Bastard.

51.5 miles done.