90 miles is a long way you know

... and if you are from the New World, in real money, it's actually 145 kms ... With Pomme Anglais still all broken and arm in a sling and thus restricted to indoor pedalling, accompanied by indoor moaning of course, it was left to Tulip and I to attempt the "on road" version of a 90 mile ride. Tulip suggested that I stay "at hers" (very Anglais lingo there)on Friday night so we could set out early on Saturday morning. 

I headed off with Lara to the station at around 6pm.When I got to the station I was then told by a man in an ill fitting national rail uniform that I couldn't take "that bike" on any train until after 7pm.  Naturally, I duly ignored him and got on a train.  I got one stop up the line where I had to change and another man in an equally ill fitting national rail uniform told me the same thing and then proceeded to take me hostage by standing next to me for 40 minutes to ensure that I didn't board any train before the magical hour.

The last 2 weeks of such typical spring weather (read monsoon downpour from a clear blue sky) accompanied by an at least 7 degrees celsius drop in temperature, has meant the Pomme Anglais on her indoor machine has ridden much more often and further than Tulip or I have managed .. so it was nervous times.  I will not subject you to a blow by blow of our ride to Cambridge (almost) and back, suffice to say it was a journey of reassurance and we will make it through the first day and we will make the ferry.

We were very lucky with the weather really only getting rained on twice. The biggest hazards were the baby bunnies running in our path on the most gorgeous of country lanes (ohhh noooice..) larks singing, other little birds dipping into our path and flying with us, grouse running alongside us, and field after field of serious hay fever sneezing and eye watering bright yellow canola plants in flower  ... and then there were the bugs!!  I have a honeycomb helmet to stop my gigantic brain from over heating and now I have realised that this means that going into the country means my helmet will become at least a 3 bugs per mile catcher (thank goodness I grew up on a farm!!!).

Oh yeah then there was the 3 mile stretch on a dual carriage way - for New Zealander's read major highway with like 7 lanes, and just as many drivers who couldn't wait a nano second for a cyclist to pass before pulling out!!.

Anyway ... T has a hill scale ... it's called the "B*@$ .." hill scale and it goes from 1 to 5.  Newgate Hill is the first one out and the last one back and it's a triple B ... and we made it!!!  So there .....

... and Mt Everest is a 15 B apparently!!!