Today was originally planned to be a nice flat ride out to
Carcassonne, gently spinning the legs after tackling the hillier recent days’
riding. Graham had other ideas though. We climbed a mountain. An actual,
<600m mountain. Andy looked like death on legs when he finally reached the
summit, closely followed by Steve in the minibus parping his horn aggresively
and shouting abuse at Andy.
Everybody enjoyed a well deserved lunch break at what we
thought was the summit. Kevin was christened ‘Forrest Gump’ for his relentless motion. It was only after
we re-saddled, and free-wheeled for a few hundred metres, that the expected
descent now became a further 100m ascent, and a downhill that was interrupted
by flats and climbs.
The final descent into a foothill village was a lovely straight road with no cars and a 15%
downhill. Any ambition of grabbing a fastest speed were scuppered by the most
unpredictable crosswinds, whose sole purpose seemed to be to throw us over the
edge of a sheer drop. Brilliant at the time. A bit scary looking back… Oh, and 42mph was the top speed recorded - in case you were wondering.
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