In which some cycling happens but not a lot else, but you'd better check just in case I'm lying!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & W Shakespeare
part 47.

I stood bemused by Stella's last comment. Was it a throw away, a wind up, or did she mean something more literally? I didn't know and she wasn't going to tell me. I caught sight of the yellow in the mirror and looked at myself in the skins. The bulge of my breasts was definitely there and so was the outline of the bra both in the front and back of the outfit. I wondered if I should buy a womens' set or at least a top. The problem is they're not anywhere near as good or freely available. Certainly not in team strips.

I blushed at the outline of the bra, then thought, 'Bugger it, I don't have to worry about that any more'. Instead, I put on some lipstick and mascara and poked my tongue out at the face in the mirror, curiously, it did the same back to me!

Aware that time was passing, I put on my shoes and making sure I had a drink, a puncture outfit and my spare helmet - damn, it wasn't a Met like Doping Dave's, but it was yellow, so it would have to do.

I picked up my steed and along with my door key and the other essentials, set off down the stairs. Hair pulled back in a scrunchie, mitts on, and finally the helmet and sun-glasses, I was ready to road test this bike. I was about to mount it when I remembered the brake levers were a bit wide for me. I tried them and could just about manage, so without further ado, clipped in my shoes and set off down the road.

The road surface isn't too kind to cyclists, even my MTB with its front suspension is a rough ride along the roads near my room. So on a road bike with little or no damping, it was even more uncomfortable, however, about ten minutes later I was on to better roads and heading out for the countryside.

To give the bike a proper test I needed to see how fast I could make her go on a familiar piece of road and see how hard a ride she was on a known hill climb. I took her out along one of my regular training rides. She certainly felt different to my Scottie, a smoother ride and more comfortable. I settled into my rhythm or cadence as the bikies call it. She felt okay and I was making reasonable speed.

I did a couple of miles along the main road and turned off up a side road which led to a moderate hill climb towards the Downs, if I was comfortable and had anything left in my legs, I might try a real climb.

I clicked down the gears as the hill drew closer, resisting the urge to rise out of the saddle a la Armstrong, although, my little unwanted appendage being tucked back was not entirely happy and I'd had to ease it forwards or risk making it much longer and rather flat! Not to mention making my eyes water in the process.

I tried to concentrate on my rhythm, using the gears to deal with the steepening incline and I felt the pull of gravity as my lungs and legs began to strain.

"Just look at the road in front of you, keep going," I said to myself, checking every so often that there were no obstructions with a cursory glance. I'd been taught that you don't look to see how much further you have to go on a hill unless it's the end of a race and that's different. It can be dispiriting if you're not a strong rider, to feel knackered and discover you still have most of it to do, so you concentrate on other things - such as your rhythm.

I remembered the one occasion I'd done this hill with no effort at all. I met a woman tri rider, that's a triathlete, you know those mad men and women who swim, cycle and run to demonstrate how crazy they are. Anyway, we met on the approach to the hill and got chatting about bikes and rides, it was so interesting we got to the top without me realising it. I haven't seen her since, she thought I was another girl too. "Charlie?" she asked raising her eyebrows, "Oh of course, Charlotte, right?" I just nodded. She seemed happy with that.

I was at the top of the hill again, thinking about Annie, I think she said her name was, had successfully distracted me and my legs did their bit by themselves. It's amazing that it works like that, don't think about it unless you have to and your body gets on with things. I wish I could do the same with my hands and the keyboard for my dissertation.

I rode along the lower ridge for a while, a relatively flat stretch and got my breath back, the sun was nice though the shadows were lengthening. Suddenly in front of me was someone fiddling with a bike.

I slowed down, it was Annie. "Hiya, I was just thinking about the time I rode up here with you."

She looked me up and down without any hint of recognition, "Did we?"

"Yeah I was riding a Scott," I smiled, "It is Annie, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I remember the Scott, oh yeah and the Millar outfit, yeah I remember now."

"Trouble?" I asked and felt a bit stupid, a bit like asking if someone is 'all right' after they've been hurt.

"Sodding puncture, and I can't get the sodding tyre off the rim. Useless plastic levers."

I dismounted and took off my helmet, "Can I have a try?"

"Help yourself," she said handing me the wheel.

I pulled the small toolkit I always carried, and unrolled it on the roadside. Getting tyres off is second nature to me, and I had one of the special tyre levers that locks on to the hub and whizzes around the rim in seconds. You can get them in plastic, I had a metal one, much better.

In less than a minute I had the tyre off and was feeling for any sharp thing on the inner side. "There's your problem," I said producing a thorn.

"Well I'll be damned," she said, "how did you do that so quickly?"

"Lots of practice, my dad used to make me fix my own from when I was about ten years old. He also gave me this," I showed her the magic tyre lever.

While she examined it, I fixed the puncture and refitted the tyre. It didn't do much for my manicure but that's life.

"So what's with the titanium?"

"The Scott had a bit of an accident, demon driver, bang crash wallop! Bike shop loaned me this."

"Wow, you were lucky."

"Yeah, I guess." I shrugged my shoulders then repacked my kit.

"Wanna do the top climb?" asked the now undistressed damsel.

"Yeah, why not," I said.

"I'll buy you a drink at the top," she offered.

"Where?" I wondered, there was nothing up there last time I got there mind you, my lungs had probably sucked my brain and eyeballs into my chest, it is one awful climb.

"Should be an ice cream/burger van up there on a sunday, at the view point."

"Is there, haven't noticed." My observational skills were once again registering nil points, like the British entry in the Eurovision song contest.

This time instead of talking about bikes we chatted about life and things like boys. Turned out Annie was a nurse, so I kept things a bit quiet about the other nurse of my acquaintance. She told me about her latest, a lad called Tim, a houseman just started on her ward. She was trying to get him to cycle with her, but so far without success.

"What about you, any boys in the offing?" she asked me.

"Had a one off with some bloke called Simon, I think."

"Not 'simple' Simon, he's the brother of a colleague of mine, bit of a plonker, nice but dim, if you know what I mean. No sensible girl ever goes out twice with him. Stella teases him something rotten."

If I hadn't been so hot and bothered with the climb, I'd have been blushing.