Mud, sausage, and a bit of a walk....

Sometimes you can ride for weeks, and never use any of your trail tools, tubes and other stuff we tend to carry with us. This has not been one of these weeks. Sometimes you can head out for a local ride, and not take the likes of a camelbak, with all it's pockets for tools and water, not even a water bottle, just you and the bike. Today was not one of those days.

Setting the alarm to awake me from my night shift slumber, after some good coffee and toast, I headed out on the Cyclo cross bike for a wee change. I'm always amazed at just how fast you can cover the ground on a CX bike, reaching the trails of the river Ayr in 12 minutes instead of my usual 15 served to re-affirm this. That is, until you hit the roots and glaur (an auld scots word for mud, Adele;-) then it just feels insufficient, but still lots of fun.

I decided to head up through the enterkine estate, and immediately noticed signs for a farm shop, promisingly new. The old dear from the farm welcomed me in and showed me her wares (steady now). I'll definitely be back for some of their beef, as it looks really good stuff, all taken from their herd of heilan coos (highland cows, Adele) the old deary gave me a flyer, and I told her to gimme a few more, as we employ over 900 people at work, and I'd post some on the notice board. With this, her eyes lit up and she said 'well in that case, take a pack of sliced sausage and let me know what you think'. Farmers never miss a trick.

So, off I went, sausage in tow, back down the river from stair, ignoring the obvious pull of the stair inn and its lovely real ales within, back to the trails and river views. Wildlife was everywhere today, mainly in the form of plenty of buzzards and sparrow hawks, and also a lovely squadron of waxwings. Spring definitely seems to be around the corner. Halle-feckin-lujah.

Then came this weeks latest mechanical. Riding through the deep, compost like mud of the Auchincruive estate, cue a loopy great twig going through the rear mech and ripping it clean in half. Bugger. After a couple of miles walking on trails that would have been easier ridden, I was met by an angel in the form of Craig, my Lloyd Christmas lookalike riding buddy from the local bike shop. Back home, and Marianne has rustled up an absolutely awesome roast chicken with wine, cream and tarragon sauce. Fire on, and Bowser is a happy bunny.

 

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