Highways, herons and harmonicas

First day back at work after my holiday, and not a good one. It turns
out I am indispensable after all - always a mistake.

I drive to the parking bay near to Trent Fields, and sit for 40 minutes
listening to the wireless, only to confirm what every Englishman knew
deep down at 10:30 this morning: given a whole day on a 5th day pitch,
we can't take ten Australian wickets, because all we've succeeded in
doing in the last four days is to make them take us a bit more
seriously.

In despair, I leap onto the 700c, ride 20 metres. The saddle's a a tad
too low. I dismount, adjust it, remount, and set off again. I pick my
way carefully across the field, following the slimy narrow footpath, and
arrive on the riverbank next to a surprised walker who splutters
startled encouragement as I ride past.

The usual route takes me along a narrow strip of tarmac, with bushes
growing on one side, and long mixed vegetation on the other. The tarmac
is slightly rippled where roots are trying to lift it. Today, it's like
Piccadilly Circus, with pedestrians, joggers, dog walkers, bicyclists...
and I weave past each obstacle (as I have come to think of my fellow
human beings) sometimes caching my face in the overhanging foliage.

Then there's the quick squirt along the embankment, making a point of
riding along the top step, not because it's difficult, but because it
looks it (poseur, moi?) and I soon reach the suspension bridge. As I
stand on the pedals and pick my way up the access ramp, a group of small
boys howl derisive laughter from the river bank below. I merrily wave
two fingers and carry on.

More tarmac, then a short burst across mown grass, and I reach the
proper cycle track that runs parallel to the main road. For a while, I
almost keep pace with a chap on a mountain bike. Then I reach the road
works: the cycle path is closed. I can turn back, or...

I ride along the road. This is a four lane carriageway (2 lanes each
way) and a 40 mph limit (assume 50 mph minimum!) with one traffic light
controlled junction. I negotiate this safely and reach the next section
of cycle track. Then it's a quick swoop down up down up down up through
the underpass, and round towards the next junction. Here, I time it
badly, and have to stop. I plan to idle, but catch the balance wrong
and I have to step off neatly. I'm the only person who knows, but every
unplanned dismount is a failure, and it grates.

Along the tarmac back road to the sports field, and then a careful but
brisk totter across the uneven grass and I reach the swoopy rolled grit
path by the river. In the late summer, everything is lush. There is
delicately scented rosebay willow herb at the side of the track - tall
weeds with pink flowers, some towering above my head. The "rapids" are
babbling cheerfully to my left, and a pair of wood pigeons flies
overhead. This is pleasant, and I slow down to admire the view.

At the end of this path, I reach the next sports field (with all these
sports fields, you'd think we'd be good at something!) and I receive
good-natured taunts from a small gang of bored teenagers. They sound
reasonably impressed as I make it up the short uneven slope onto the
flood bank. Then I leave them behind as I make my way through the
various twists and turns that lead to the footbridge across the canal.

On the far bank, I overtake a jogger, who, listening to her iPod, is
unaware of my presence until I appear in her peripheral vision. I
wonder what the death rate is for iPod-using joggers?

I walk through Beeston Marina then do a lap of Attenborough Nature
Reserve. A lap is a mile or two (I've never measured) and, for some
reason, I have always ridden it anticlockwise. Today, I ride it
clockwise. One of the joys of unicycling is that a change of direction
is a change of route, as tricky descents become tricky climbs, and vice
versa.

I ride across two of the bridges, realising that this is the first time
I have ridden either bridge in this direction. The second of the two is
by far the more difficult - at least on this wheel - and as I safely
complete the descent, I let out a sotto voce "Yes!" and clench my fist
in a Henmanesque manner. Around the next bend, I am a little
embarrassed to find a small group of elderly walkers who have clearly
heard this. They display far too much caution, and virtually dive into
the nettles to avoid me.

Back to the Marina, and time for a small bottle of beer and some crisps.
(There's not much you can tell me about sports nutrition!) The marina
is a fairly run down place, with tatty boats rotting at their moorings.
A family sits outside the marina bar, the kids with plastic bottles of
fizzy pop. They have made holes in the bottom of the bottles, shaken
them, and are drinking the pop as it squirts out under pressure.
Science in action - but not good table manners.

On the plus side, a lad of about 10 is most excited to have seen a
heron, and he is loudly explaining to his mother that the ducks he saw
were "just the ordinary sort" which at least means he knows there's more
than one sort.

Then I decide to retrace my route along the river bank, rather than
doing what I normally do, and following the canal towpath. Riding
along the riverside path, I see a heron standing in the shallows in the
middle of the river. I take a couple of photographs but it's too far
away and they come out all grainy, like CCTV photos of a murder suspect.
On the grassy sports field, I UPD. As I remount, I hear a rustling
noise on my helmet, reach up, and find a huge bunch of rowan berries
caught in the vent. In surprise, I UPD again.

As I approach the underpass, I notice to my right that there is a cycle
path that I've never explored. It goes under the main road between the
walls that support the flyover. There are about 6 square section
tunnels, all parallel, and separated by thin concrete walls. As I
approach it, it's like riding into a giant harmonica. Most of the
tunnels are unlit, and have muddy floors, but one is brightly lit with a
tarmac floor. Clearly this is the one they want me to use, but is it a
trap?

The tunnel brings me out into the park and ride car park, and all I have
done is knock a couple of hundred metres, a tricky junction and the
underpass off my route. Still, you have to try these things.

Whizzing along the side of the road, I reach the road works that block
the cyclepath. It is now nearly dusk. I dismount, switch my lights on,
walk across the road, and prepare to remount. As I do, a Police car
pulls up and the occupants look at me speculatively. I apply my basic
principle: look like a cyclist, be treated like a cyclist, so I check
the lights, check the traffic, mount cleanly, and ride smoothly away.
The Police car drives off.

Am I too nervous? I'm the bloke who had his motorcycle stolen twice,
and had four tax discs stolen, in a year (making six incidents), then
got a ticket one rainy Sunday for having an undersized number plate. So
far, none of the thieves has been caught.

Not much to report after this section. Just an easy pedal along my
regular paths in fading light. I ride up past the skateboard ramps
where last time a young girl shouted, "I hope you fall off and break
your neck." My response that time was terse. This time, a young girl
shouted, without obvious irony, "You are so talented!" I touch the peak
of my cycle helmet in polite acknowledgement. Progress of a sort.

The last quarter mile is along the road, where it is definitely dark
enough to need lights. I get back to the car at 9:00 and it is dark
already. Summer is already drawing to a close.

That's a ride of about 12 miles or so, and I am still feeling fresh,
except for a slight twinge in the left knee. The Miyata saddle,
although thin, is much more comfortable than the Viscounts on my MUni
and on my Coker. Yesterday's work on the bearings does seem to have got
rid of that annoying noise after all. This 700c is rapidly becoming my
favourite unicycle.


--
Mikefule - Roland Hope School of Unicycling

http://www.dolphin-morris.co.uk/

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Here's a photo taken at the Marina during the beer stop.


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--
Mikefule - Roland Hope School of Unicycling

http://www.dolphin-morris.co.uk/

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Mikefule wrote:
*Summer is already drawing to a close.
*


Sigh.

- - -

Exactly how many Brits still use the word 'wireless'?


--
goldenchicken II - There is more to cycling

Olaf Johansson

www.enhjulingsfolket.se
www.muni.se
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goldenchicken II wrote:
*
Exactly how many Brits still use the word 'wireless'? *


At least one. I no longer say "gramophone" though.


--
Mikefule - Roland Hope School of Unicycling

http://www.dolphin-morris.co.uk/

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goldenchicken II wrote:
*
Exactly how many Brits still use the word 'wireless'? *


At least one. I no longer say "gramophone" though.


--
Mikefule - Roland Hope School of Unicycling

http://www.dolphin-morris.co.uk/

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"goldenchicken II"
list.com wrote in message
r.at.Unicyclist.com...


- - -

Exactly how many Brits still use the word 'wireless'?


I am not at all sure that I could provide you with an exact answer to that,
but certainly a majority of those people I know of pensionable age still use
"wireless". I think I prefer it to "tranny" and "ghetto blaster".

Is there a problem with "wireless"?


Nao

--
Grandparents are those people that encourage your kids to do all those
things they would not let you do, and at a time in your life when you have
finally come to accept that, all those years ago, they were right.

As good and as bad Shane Warne is, I bet he can't ride a uni. Only the
Brits and the Aussies will understand this.

Lets organise a uni Test series. Uni cricket so to speak old chap.

Test 1, the Aussies V's Brits Circus skills
Test 2, Muni skills
Test 3, Trials
Test 4... ahh I have run out of ideas, maybe Coker distance!.
Test 5 uni writing skills (You win)

Cheers


--
onebyone

Bill Blogs is an alien!
www.municycle.com.au
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i think there should be a big competition at the next Unicon
everybody get's a number when they register and on the final night they
have a lucky draw and the person who's number is drawn, wins a day-ride
with Mikefule



and keep softening up those Aussies for us, we're kicking it our of them
in the rugby and will take them on in the cricket once u're done with
them


--
GILD - Waffle-Tosser, Time-bider and JCTK

if you can't say anything good about someone, sit right here by me.--
'alice' (http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/custom.html?) 'roosevelt'
(http://tinyurl.com/963jr) 'longworth' (http://tinyurl.com/78ybd)

I feel like a fugitive from the law of averages.-- 'william h mauldin'
(http://www.johnconyers.com/)
...using nietzsche's metaphysics to escape from
christianity...-'metro_tramp on the value of metaphysics'
(http://tinyurl.com/4sjw6)-
it's hard to be sure, and good to be paranoid...john childs on life on
the internet
'harper' (http://tinyurl.com/c9epx)
'NAMASTE!' (http://tinyurl.com/4qcxw)
'Dave' (http://www.lyricsdir.com/d/deep-purp...ld-in-time.php)
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Mikefule wrote:
*First day back at work after my holiday, and not a good one. It
turns out I am indispensable after all - always a mistake.
.
.
.
That's a ride of about 12 miles or so, and I am still feeling fresh,
except for a slight twinge in the left knee. The Miyata saddle,
although thin, is much more comfortable than the Viscounts on my MUni
and on my Coker. Yesterday's work on the bearings does seem to have
got rid of that annoying noise after all. This 700c is rapidly
becoming my favourite unicycle. *

Bravo!!


--
mucRider - From the Over 50 Group

It is wise to invest in your happiness. - Harper
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GILD wrote:
*i think there should be a big competition at the next Unicon
everybody get's a number when they register and on the final night
they have a lucky draw and the person who's number is drawn, wins a
day-ride with Mikefule
*




The lucky winner would no doubt be disappointed. The consensus of those
who have experienced both is that I'm a better writer than rider.
Nice idea, though.


--
Mikefule - Roland Hope School of Unicycling

http://www.dolphin-morris.co.uk/

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