Back to Winter Riding

At the last second I dragged the bike back into shape, got my weight back to counter the fork-dive from the heavy front braking, and narrowly avoided the trees. This wasn’t a technical section, aside from the narrow gaps between the trunks but I was riding it like I’d never been on a bike before. My balance was all off, I couldn’t find any flow and I was fighting everything. It might have been the drive in the rain up to Cannock that had thrown me off, it might have been just the build-up of work stress, but most likely it was the brutal hangover I was still feeling into the afternoon.

Riding the Chase is perfect for a wet afternoon. The built trails drain well, apart from the puddles and the main challenge is a lack of grip on the wet hard-pack. I chased the light around the red trail, forgetting how long the route is. Cannock has some technical sections and needs concentration, as well as fitness to get up the surprising amount of climbing. I was lacking a bit of both but I fought through the day, managing to make a navigational error on a marked trail, which I think shows commitment to the lack of focus.

Occasional groups of riders slowed me down and I feel any PRs here slightly flatter me, possibly more due to the large number of punctures I got last time round, or some residual fitness behind the pain, but for all that it was a good ride, wet, fast, technical and just good to be on a bike as ever. I briefly flirted with the black diversion but had to decide it was beyond me for the day leaving me with a slightly embarrassing push back up to the red trail.

Sunday was time for something a bit bigger. It’s not too far beyond Birmingham to the Peak District where I had a choice to make. Often I have ridden the same routes here, sticking to what I know is good in the bigger hills, but I was tempted to try something new. There is another well-known route form Hope around the Ladybower reservoir that I’ve never ridden and I wanted to try it out. I was concerned it would be a disappointment but I needn’t have worried.

Climbing out of Hope was a muddy slog to start with, getting firmer, but wetter as I got higher. I enjoy a wet rocky climb on grippy gritstone and it delivered that in spades. At the top the track headed downhill on loose boulders and rocks, offering another challenge that briefly went a bit wrong as I hit my knee, but continued down with wide open views. I climbed again and then was directed onto the least inspiring-looking of the tracks. With fingers crossed I rolled out along this until it started to get decidedly more interesting with another rollercoaster descent to the road and the reservoir.

Some tourist-dodging along the road took me to the bottom of a brutally steep climb that I had to walk in sections as the missing fitness and skill from the previous day returned. At the top a beautiful contour in the dropping sun and temperature was the prelude to a rolling, boggy, rock-strewn downhill over heather moorland then into a valley and rock-slabs to the road. The ride ended on tarmac for longer than ideal, but the satisfaction of the big hills and hard descents remained through the last miles and back to the car where cake and dry clothes were waiting to help with the dark motorway drive home.

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