onionbagblog
Cumbrian Comedown
Highlights included meeting up with old friends from Poland and the US. For one week only, Cockermouth was indeed the centre of the cycling universe. Lowlights were giving the London cyclists' finger to a beeping Petrol Head pushing up my backside around Bassenthwaite, only to find that it was a friendly greeting from the lovely Polish Tour support car.
Whoops.
Crummock Water came *shhh* close to matching the lovely lido (oh how I have missed thee,) although I'm pleased that my bathing around the waters of Crummock came after the cattle herd decided to use it as a public toilet.
The time trial to Maryport was accompanied by an even quicker return leg. I think that tells you more about the delights of downtown Maryport, than any athletic endeavour on my behalf.
The rest day was spent in search of Withnail. No sign of everyone's favourite thespian anti-hero, but I was told to 'shut that gate,' as well as getting involved in a slight inter-change in the tearooms of Penrith.
Country cottages were sourced. Shame about the prices.
Oh, and next time I'll remember not to have the 35 mile Cockermouth to Penrith uphill route as the crowning glory as I crossed the line wearing le Maillot-jaune.
Back to the track this Saturday.
Chapeau!
reply via twitter
| Tuesday 2 June, 2009 |
Highlights included meeting up with old friends from Poland and the US. For one week only, Cockermouth was indeed the centre of the cycling universe. Lowlights were giving the London cyclists' finger to a beeping Petrol Head pushing up my backside around Bassenthwaite, only to find that it was a friendly greeting from the lovely Polish Tour support car.
Whoops.
Crummock Water came *shhh* close to matching the lovely lido (oh how I have missed thee,) although I'm pleased that my bathing around the waters of Crummock came after the cattle herd decided to use it as a public toilet.
The time trial to Maryport was accompanied by an even quicker return leg. I think that tells you more about the delights of downtown Maryport, than any athletic endeavour on my behalf.
The rest day was spent in search of Withnail. No sign of everyone's favourite thespian anti-hero, but I was told to 'shut that gate,' as well as getting involved in a slight inter-change in the tearooms of Penrith.
Country cottages were sourced. Shame about the prices.
Oh, and next time I'll remember not to have the 35 mile Cockermouth to Penrith uphill route as the crowning glory as I crossed the line wearing le Maillot-jaune.
Back to the track this Saturday.
Chapeau!
reply via twitter
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