It's a scorcher, and it's my day off. What can a bloke do??
Get up early, put on fresh coffee and start sorting off road bike kit
With an early start the trails are mostly quiet, and it's a delight to be out
And to those of you that don't off road, I can only tell you that you're seriously missing out!
Balancing the guilt of petrol head pollution (mostly the noise to be honest) with a love of the countryside, getting out on a trail bike on a beautiful day is just a great way to leave the world behind.
I actually met up with two others first thing, but that was all a bit of a thrash with no time for piccies. Here though, on my way home at about 1100, well ...
how could anybody thrash through this bit of wood 
Not a person in sight, and not a car to be heard.
There's hooning, and there's chilling and soaking it all up
30 miles later and back home, it's a quick clean while Rosy knocks up a picnic, and gets the push bikes out.
And with barely time to swallow a coffee and grab a banana, I hit the trails again with crasher Lamb and Reuben the Lurcher.
Crasher Lamb, clearly needs to work on her fitness
The dog doesn't though. Waiting for us at the top of a steep hill, he'll run all feckin' day
The trail gets a bit gnarly, and I'm waiting for the inevitable
Yep, whilst your's truly is clipped in taking photos with one hand I hear the familiar squak and groan as Crasher Lamb manages to stuff it on a sloping camber
Undaunted by her deviation into the undergrowth, we stop for beer and snacks, and soak up the hot sun with a gorgeous vista.
Maybe if crasher Lamb didn't stuff so many crisps down her gob she'd make it up those hills ...
Exhausted, crasher has a kip before we push on.
It's more hills I'm afraid.
So I decide to stay at the back to give her some encouragement ...
We start our descent, and hit ruts
Ten miles in and Rueben is still running
But he's kind enough to stop when crasher bins it in the ruts.
We push on home through the last of the fields,
The brakes come off, the dog knows where he is, and with it's a mad thrash by everybody for Gin and Chappie. The dog hoons it - we've done about 15 miles, gawd knows how many he's done.
And as I write, they're both crashed out on the sofa ...
Get up early, put on fresh coffee and start sorting off road bike kit
With an early start the trails are mostly quiet, and it's a delight to be out
And to those of you that don't off road, I can only tell you that you're seriously missing out!
Balancing the guilt of petrol head pollution (mostly the noise to be honest) with a love of the countryside, getting out on a trail bike on a beautiful day is just a great way to leave the world behind.
I actually met up with two others first thing, but that was all a bit of a thrash with no time for piccies. Here though, on my way home at about 1100, well ...
how could anybody thrash through this bit of wood Not a person in sight, and not a car to be heard. There's hooning, and there's chilling and soaking it all up
30 miles later and back home, it's a quick clean while Rosy knocks up a picnic, and gets the push bikes out.
And with barely time to swallow a coffee and grab a banana, I hit the trails again with crasher Lamb and Reuben the Lurcher.
Crasher Lamb, clearly needs to work on her fitness
The dog doesn't though. Waiting for us at the top of a steep hill, he'll run all feckin' day
The trail gets a bit gnarly, and I'm waiting for the inevitable
Yep, whilst your's truly is clipped in taking photos with one hand I hear the familiar squak and groan as Crasher Lamb manages to stuff it on a sloping camber
Undaunted by her deviation into the undergrowth, we stop for beer and snacks, and soak up the hot sun with a gorgeous vista.
Maybe if crasher Lamb didn't stuff so many crisps down her gob she'd make it up those hills ...
Exhausted, crasher has a kip before we push on.
It's more hills I'm afraid.
So I decide to stay at the back to give her some encouragement ...
We start our descent, and hit ruts
Ten miles in and Rueben is still running
But he's kind enough to stop when crasher bins it in the ruts.
We push on home through the last of the fields,
The brakes come off, the dog knows where he is, and with it's a mad thrash by everybody for Gin and Chappie. The dog hoons it - we've done about 15 miles, gawd knows how many he's done.
And as I write, they're both crashed out on the sofa ...
