In all the years I have been a road cyclist the period between November and March has only ever seen me once go out riding on the open road. This is a shocking statistic, especially since I have no problem getting on the mountain bike and being chilled and soaked to the skin or covered from head to foot in mud. This winter I have decided to try and break the pattern. The rear mudguard has been fitted again and I have the added incentive of a new energy bar in my collection of cycling food. I mull over a few routes; trying to steer clear of the more remote, narrow roads as they are likely to be covered in surface water and a layer mud from the farm vehicles that use them. The deciding factor once more concerns food – we require fresh coriander for the Thai themed dinner and since the only herb available in local shops is parsley, a trip out of town is required. We head to Kirkcudbright in the hope that the supermarket there will have some.
A few kilometres into the ride and I am already feeling hungry so I delve into the back pocket of my jacket and pull out the peanut butter flavoured bar. I further justify starting to eat so soon as it is cold and hence I surely will be expending more energy. The salty taste is in sharp contrast to my usual sickly sweet snacks and pleased with my new discovery the 30km to the shop pass quickly. While waiting in the small supermarket car park I finish off the snack. Eunice finally emerges from the shop clutching a packet of coriander – the last one on the shelves.
Long distance shopping
Cold is beginning to penetrate my bones so the pace out of town is stepped up and with Mute Hill coming up I know I will soon be warm. At the foot of the hill we are greeted by the sound of repeated gun fire. As we are close to the military training area this is not unusual but today the red warning flags are not flying. Instead, glancing to the right, two gun dogs wait patiently with their handler – a pheasant shoot is in progress. The birds’ feathers litter the road, having fallen from their frantically beating wings as they flew across the road thinking they were escaping danger only to find themselves flying into a hail of bullets and almost certain death.
The sight of birds falling from the sky does not seem to have affected my appetite. Remembering that I have one more food item left, I once more reach into my rear pocket and pull out a gel. It is not the most exciting thing to eat and it takes seconds to open and squeeze the contents into my mouth but it is sweet and tastes of banana. There is nothing left now but to put more effort into turning the pedals and get home as quickly as possible. Dinner and a warm fire awaits.
Lunch on the move
Granite Heart 