tonight should have been a long-ish post-ride work over the granites with jac (the new scottish singlespeed champ).
the plan was work-hillend-roslin-roswell-temple-gorebridge-edinburgh. the actuality was work-wester hailes-colinton-dreghorn-bigglassgougeoutof1weekoldtyre-psssssssst.
bastard.
jac rode on for 40 more. i minced my way down to the bicycle works with a decidedly ugly looking bulge in the tyre.
new tyre+a couple of new tubes. retire outside to fix tube, only to discover the one i'd put in had succumbed to the gouge on the way to the shop.
bastard.
fit new tube. cack handed tyre levering introduces a hole to a brand new new tube.
bastard.
another new tube. more care. A-OK. ride home.
track standing at the lights at the end of chester street and a guy in a car filtering left winds his window down and says (i'm pretty sure) with a smile - "bloody trackies".
laugh.
20 uneventful miles later and i'm back in B to the I, wondering if i should sprint the last few hundred metres to the roundabout at the top of the street and some stupid fucking wifey pulls straight out in front of me when i'm doing 25mph+. co-driver spots me first and the car stops with a foot or so to spare. no acknowledgement, no apology. no fucking nothing.
fucks sake.
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the ride arrived today - very, very nice. smells good too.
p.s. no breakast ride this week. next week fer shure. trails+nettle stings+coffee+bacon+breakfast views=:)
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1 comment:
and b r e a t h
the ride looks good if a tad pricey (justified or not i'm still skint)
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