Right; here's my pootle. Up at 5:30 this morning for a ride in the countryside, from Southampton out through Totton and Cadnam to Lyndhurst, Brockenhurst, Lymington, Beaulieu, and back home through Eling, taking in some of the most idyllic sights Englandville has to offer.
Outside my house. The light is lovely at 6 am. That snack-box on my handlebars is not
entirely full of snacks. In fact, this morning, it's just got tools and a spare tube - I haven't had any breakfast, and I've only got a couple of cereal bars in my jersey pocket for sustenance. Should burn off some of that fat!
The view from the bridge over the River Test. On the other side lies all my lovely riding.... Take note of the containers on the right of the image - more of those later.
And here we are, in the Noo Furrrest (that's New Forest, for those of you who don't speak local)
No, I didn't ride down there, but I thought it worth a picture.
Lyndhurst is quaint, pretty, and posh, as evidenced by the Ferrari and Maserati dealership. Me and my bike aren't jealous though, not a bit of it *dribble*
At the top of the climb out of Lyndhurst (you seem to climb out of every town and village in the Forest), open road, not much traffic - a nice change from charging through the London rush hour .
Pub names round here are fun. This is in Brockenhurst.
Lymington harbour, in the distance.
Otters crossing. That's just how we roll...... Riding out of Lymington is a monster hill, not super long, but ludicrously steep, and the site, last year, of my second and most embarrassing clipless fall. I was on an early 80's road bike, lovely and fast, but with very close ratio gearing, and not much granny-business for hill climbing. I hurtled past a rustic looking individual on a mountain bike, started up the hill with a vengeance, and near the top, found myself really struggling. I got unmanageably slow, and decided to clip out and walk, but at that speed, you don't have much time, and my size 11 clodhoppers make it hard work clipping out, so I simply rolled gently into the ditch, which is full of nettles. The kindly Polish gentleman on the MTB asked me if I was ok, as he sailed by....