Frodsham Hill

I went for a cycle ride into Cheshire on Sunday. It was a fantastic day and I thought it would be nice to see what it was like riding with the sun beating down on my helmet....Oh hey madam....Carry On Cycling all over again. Seriously, I've been out in all types of weather over the last few months and it's been fine. Now that Summer is officially here it was nice to get out in the sort of weather that I'm going to experience on my journey.....I'm in trouble....only joking, it was OK but water is going to be a big issue, or lack of it. The ride up Frodsham Hill was interesting. As you can see from my pictures I was rather hot when I go to the top. After a short respite and a banana I carried on to Chester, where I enjoyed a pastie and a Eccles Cake at the side of the River Dee. I know I should eat more healthily but they taste really nice. The ride back home was against the wind....you know how I hate the wind. I just hope its always behind me when I travel across America, some hope.
I think that I may have to stop using my clates. My right foot seems to be held at an angle that is slightly uncomfortable and it's affecting my knee. I've had trouble with it this weekend. When I got back from my ride on Sunday, about fifty five miles in length it was really sore. That's the last thing I want. Typical, I've been training since December without any injuries, with two weeks to go my knee starts to play up. Never mind I will have to cycle with one leg. It reminds me of a 'Night Watchman'....now he would probably be called a 'Nocturnal Security Consultant'... who used to chase me and my friends off the local building sites many years ago years ago. Padgate Camp, an derelict Second World War army base was our playground. He was obviously a war veteran, which many old watchmen were and he couldn't bend one of his legs, probably because of a war injury. This didn't stop him from riding like an Olympic Cyclist. I remember him casing me and shouting"I know where you live". I was terrified and all I could think about was 'how does he know where I live' The thought of him knocking on our door was unimaginable....my dad would have killed me.
Less than two weeks to go and the clock seems to be moving round faster. I looked at it on the website this morning and thought it was a fan. Never mind sooner I go the sooner I get back, one of my mums old sayings when she used to send me to the shop for two ounce of boiled ham and half an ounce of Golden Virgina for my dad. I used to insist that she counted to see how fast I could run...with the list in my head along with the 'Co-Op divi-number,15901. You have to be a certain age to appreciate the importance of not forgetting that number. I would run like the wind and gleefully relish the fact that I ran it in a miraculous time of 78 seconds, not bad for half a mile....happy times... it was really embarrassing because I was twenty eight at the time.