The virgin road

New. Never travelled. Perhaps your eyes traced a pixellated line on a screen the night before or perhaps you simply turned left instead of right. Ahead only virgin road unridden. The unknown.

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Heat

Sun high. Hot. Not a cloud. The mercury rises and rises, heatwave headline writers twitch. A month earlier snow. Three changes of gloves in three days, goodbye heavy oven gloves, hello flimsy finger-less mitts.

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The inevitable guilt complex

Life, I decided, is more important than cycling. Blasphemy. Treason! Hang him! Lovers who’ve come to terms with their love for one another and other people. We’re not exactly on a break, no. We’re just open to seeing other people. And you know what, I’m enjoying it.

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Obsessions only cyclists have

Yeah, I’m niche. Not really something to boast about yet we humans like to feel as if we’re forging our own paths, that we are remarkable in some small way, atypical, one of a few. We follow not crowds, only our own will, for yes I’m smart, in control, not one of them, all those […]

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Why do cyclists climb mountains?

A strange addiction. Climbing to the skies, slow motion, pain, body revolting, hour after hour of mental questions. Why am I climbing this mountain? We’re a strange bunch us cyclists. Speeding along dressed in tights, bottoms padded, riding great distances much to the bemusement of non-cyclists. To them it’s unfathomable that riding up a mountain, […]

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