Cooler now, and better for it. This glorious summer is (hopefully) far from over, but the peak temperatures of the last fortnight have backed off and daytime riding is back on the agenda.
Last week’s foolhardy mission, one begun in 30 degrees and black kit, was swiftly abandoned. A later attempt in lighter colours was only marginally more comfortable. Cyclists and headwinds don’t usually make good bedfellows, but when the mercury truly rises, any sort of breeze is welcome.
For now, the UK climate ‘languishes’ in the early twenties, and as far as I’m concerned, it can remain there for, oh, another nine months at least. An early morning start means a sleeveless base layer and arm screens (not warmers) are pulled from the draw with ankle-length socks, shorts, and the garment currently on test, Café du Cycliste’s Lucienne jersey (more of which in a subsequent review).
By superhuman effort, I rise far earlier than necessary to give myself a chance of digesting a breakfast of porridge and banana before the ride. Bidons are prepared and mounted on the bike in readiness for the off, still some two hours hence.
Cyclists and headwinds don’t usually make good bedfellows, but when the mercury truly rises, any sort of breeze is welcome
The countryside is astonishingly beautiful at this time of year (it never looks bad; nature doesn’t do ‘ugly’). The hedgerows appear thick enough to support an oil platform, the meadow grass is waist high, and the trees, where they overhang the road, block out the sun almost entirely, making descents in non-photochromatic lenses a test of nerve and a matter of guesswork.
It’s another mission on the Kinesis TK3, another 50 or so miles racked upon the Panaracer Race Type A EVO 2 tyres, whose pressures diminish rapidly between rides, but whose performance when returned to 100psi is impressive. There are few cheaper or easier ways to improve a bike’s performance and appearance than by fitting some slick summer rubber, and time spent with the Kinesis has become still more enjoyable since it’s been shod with lighter tyres.
I’d been curing myself lately of the habit of café stops, but today the chance to sit in a sunlit courtyard sipping alternately from a can of full-strength Coke and a coffee with hot milk between bites from a toasted sausage sandwich proves irresistible. It’s unlikely Chris Froome enjoys the same luxuries, and, given the choice between the world’s admiration and an ill-advised Sunday breakfast, I know which I’d choose. Pass the brown sauce, would you?
