First road ride of 2015.

I've been rubbish over the winter, not getting out and doing much at all as my waistline will confirm. So last week I went out for a short off-road run (running on paved surfaces is frankly dull!) and today I dug out the Pompi for a short ride.
Leaving the house at 10.50 I headed north out of Buxton, turning off Fairfield Road and the A6 heading along Waterswallows, past the tip and rode Liver'n'bacon Lane (I can never remember its proper name but it avoids the fastest part of the A6) to Dove Holes where I re-joined the A6. Then down to the roundabout, first exit, drop down the woody hill and turn off into Chapel. A short climb up the high street then out towards Whaley. A couple of female cyclists pulled out from Combs in front of me, they looked serious so I hoped to draft them (totally fair in my book, they had gears, I haven't) for a while as the wind was getting a bit strong... However they were coasting along a little too slowly for my liking even though the gradient was dropping. I did think that they would put the hammer down as we were heading downhill, so stayed back thinking that if I overtook them they would cruise past further on when I hit the maximum speed that my one gear would allow. But they showed no interest in speeding up, so I span the pedals and upped my pace. I have to say that I took no pleasure in passing them, I felt it could come across as macho behaviour which isn't my style (I hope!).
Down to the crossroads at Whaley Bridge and left up Long Hill. Which today really lived up to its name...
A strong headwind only got worse with height, which probably explains why I saw no-one else climbing and plenty of smiling thin-tyred folk descending. Still, it can only help build strength and endurance. Probably.
Not wanting to stop on the way up I ground it out, pedals turning slower and slower, stomach feeling emptier and emptier despite a hearty bowl of porridge for breakfast, head staying down ignoring the fine views all around on a fine spring morning. On reaching the summit I stopped for a moment, did up my jacket against the wind and took a single photograph;

Downhill at last! Looking form the summit of Long Hill towards Buxton.

Then its (mostly) freewheeling back into Buxton, followed by a stiff climb up to my house arriving at 12.20, exactly one and a half hours later and totally pooped. Now I could re-fuel, large mugs of tea and hot cross buns being the order of the day.

Should my legs feel up to it I'll be off for a run down in the Goyt tomorrow.

Paul.