Giving the mountain bike another chance

On the day I saw my physiotherapist I decided I should not go for a run. I had gone for a fair few runs beforehand just to make sure I had symptoms to show him, but now, of course, I wanted to get rid of these same symptoms again. And it was a glorious day. I decided to bring out the mountain bike. Or rather; my office bike. It is a bike that I had adopted because otherwise someone would have thrown it away. It was good enough to make it to Bangor from Menai bridge. And it clearly had had front suspension, but that had seized up by now. There was still about a centimetre of give in it. Not much! But it still was my best bike for the job. Big nobbly tires, a small frame, wide handle bars and a small gear.

The first time I had taken this thing into the hills I had been a bit ambitious about it, and spent a lot of time walking. No I just wanted to short ride. And I decided I could go around a strange conspicuous gorge nearby, right behind Moel Faban. That would be a fairly even route.

I biked up the steep way to the path. That was harder work than running it! But then on the smoother stretch you could take it easier. And coming down wasn't too eventful on the other side. I actually had a good time!

I didn't take my normal running route back into the village; that didn't look suitable for a bike. I bailed out earlier and made a bit of a detour over the country lanes. These are not very exciting, but if you are on bicycle, you don't have to spend much time on them. Especially downhill!

I was quite pleased with this design. I think I had given my heart and lungs enough to do, and I had not been bored. And I had barely spent any time walking beside the bicycle. Success!

The next time I did the same route, but in the other direction; I didn't like that very much. So the next time I went for a ride, I did it the original way around again. It was raining, but that wasn't a problem.

I think I have a new routine now for the time it will take for my ankle to heal. And it will only get better; Kate had accidentally brought her old mountain bike up from the south, and said she was happy for me to have it. This is a much, much better bike than the one I have been on so far. And I am starting to have the impression that a bike actually matters! Not just the rider. So maybe this marks a conspicuous change in my exercise life: I might be turning into a mild mountain biker!

Moel Faban seen from the back

Having a good time