The summer cycling season has started early for me. After the downpour days of the first three months of the year, the Estuary Wilds has been dry throughout April. It reminds me very much of those first CRAZED days of Covid.

I rolled out mid-morning on the Brompton. I’m really enjoying riding the mini-wheeler right now. It’s not really built for rides of 35km plus. But fuck it. It feels light and free, and is most agile when tackling the Estuary Wilds lanes.

The scenery around me was equally enjoyable. There is a lush green canopy covering the lanes, as well the early signs of growth throughout the fields. The lanes were empty, the Brompton was on a roll.

Chapeau!

I had plans to cycle off to Lidl to cash in my Thursday Lidl app cheapo coupons. But the Estuary Wilds sun was bloody lush. It was too good an opportunity to resist a bicycle ride, on the Brompton, natch. Abandon Lidl! Let’s roll out along the lanes instead.

I managed to avoid rush-hour - although every hour seems to be rush-hour around these parts of late. Tenpenny Hill was fine. A dickhead then close-passed me on the approach towards Thorrington. Fast forward 24 hours later, and Essex Police had already put the driver on a course. Job’s a good ‘un.

Some pretty fierce crosswinds hit me as I ventured further out into the great unknown. Random Church bells were ringing - odd for mid-afternoon on a Thursday. They weren’t the Bells of Doom, either.

A decent ride. I even ended up at Lidl. You can take the man out of Lidl, etc. Chapeau!

A Sunday morning gentle roll out on the Brompton to kick start the day. It’s been a while since I last treated the mini-wheeler to a ride around the Estuary Wilds lanes. Logistics has meant that the Brompton is my current - and only - ride of choice. Scaffolding back at base has imprisoned the other bicycles, blocking off the back passage.

Hey hoe. I knew there was a reason as to why I held on to the Brompton, despite limited commuting opportunities these days. It’s such a pure, unrestricted ride. I may only have two gears, but I didn’t feel like I needed any more throughout the 25km loop. The Brompton rides beautifully.

I also enjoyed the freedom of riding a Brompton with no luggage. Over the past fifteen years or so, I have used the Brompton whilst balancing my back and forth lifestyle between S Ldn and the Estuary Wilds. Half my life has been transported during each journey, with front and rear bags carrying life’s essentials (MacBooks, cameras, cheapo Lidl BOOZE.) Not so today.

It was a little chilly shortly after 9am. I needed the three layers to get me around the route. There had also been some unexpected overnight rain. Not so much of a surprise was the succession of close pass dickheads. I clocked half a dozen. Sadly I didn’t have my camera mount on the Brompton to capture them.

I decided to focus on more pleasant aspects of the ride: the bluebells still going strong along the verges, the very dignified tourer rider who was laden down with four bags on his bicycle; the squirrel who chanced his luck and almost made an ill-advised bolt to dive through my Brompton spokes.

I’d forgotten how much the Brompton can be. Maybe I should keep it as the default bicycle of choice over the summer months?

Another BEAUT of a spring day, another bicycle ride. I had an errand in dropping off a parcel with the well known courier company, where the only collection point is on the other side of Sunny Colch. Arse.

Hey! Let’s build a circular bicycle ride into this as well. The route fitted in rather well with the Abberton Reservoir run. It’s rare that I get over to this side of town these days. Double bubble fun.

The fresh spring air was heavy with something a little stronger as I approached Old Heath. The stench of strong weed triggered exotic S Ldn vibes. Soon I hit the countryside lanes. The Mary Jane smell morphed into manure.

The Spot of the Day was the new sign for Fingringhoe. Stop sniggering. The previous Welcome to Fingringhoe signs never lasted long. I wonder why… Locals have now come up with the rather clever idea of a Fingringhoe stone. You try half-inching that.

I reached the local cricket club at [Gawd knows where]. A lone groundsmen was busy making last minute preparations for the season ahead. This is always a good sign.

I had to pull over 15km or so in. A layer was lost, along with the cycling gloves. Phew, Wot a Scorcher, etc. Make the most of these Golden Days.

A return to rolling out with the Colchester Cycle UK crowd early on Sunday morning. Woh - I’ve missed those guys. It’s been a few years since I’ve managed any consistent run of Sunday cycling club runs. Work has got in the way, meaning that I’ve missed out on the weekly rides to Gawd Knows Where.

I did check the route briefly before the 8:45am Leisure World meet up. Assington was the first coffee point check. Nope, me neither.

We had a vicious head wind once we had left Britain’s Oldest recorded; actually we had a vicious tail wind and a vicious cross wind. The arse end of Storm Dave was blowing out around the fringes of Sunny Colch.

Runners and riders were everywhere. We also came across a number of cycle tourists, with their impressive bar and frame bags as they made their way around the lanes.

I stuck close to the ride leader. I even picked up some new hand signals. We’re not talking the five-fingered shuffle, although the cyclist hand gesture for gravel ahead did have me giggling to myself.

The Barn at Assington was reached. Morning coffee was taken as we met up with some other riders. There was little appetite, so to speak, for a continuation on to a luncheon venue. A new route was plotted back to Sunny Colch.

Chapeau!

Another day, another bicycle ride along a beautiful blossomed Trail. I took it at a steady pace. I spent an hour beforehand fitting a new cheapo Lidl bicycle seat to the summer MTB. It should have been a five minute job. The Laws of Bicycle Mechanics means that I need to multiply this by at least ten. I wasn’t entirely convinced that the seat pole may lose contact with the seat as I rolled along.

The Trail was busy with Bank Holiday walkers - another reason not to put my foot down on the pedals. I was layered up, passing walkers who were down to their T-shirts. I feel the Estuary Wilds winds these days like an 80 year-old. The blossom will soon be blown away. I fear that the same might happen to my cheapo Lidl bicycle seat.

A return to the Trail for the first time in months on Thursday afternoon. The bloody Estuary Wilds rain has kept me and my MTB away from all the mud and general unpleasantness.

The stretch from Weird Wiv down to the Hythe is now bone dry. Blossom corridors line one particular stretch. It’s stunning, giving off the sense that you are cycling down a perfume tunnel - if such a thing actually exists. At least it makes a change from the stench of shit.

This was the first outing of the summer MTB. I carried out a few repairs on it back in September, before putting it away to hibernate for another winter. New spokes were added, along with some gear shifter cables. It held up to the test.

Chapeau!

I was a man on a mission on Sunday morning: operation buy two pairs of the Lidl carbon plated cheapo running shoes. But first a bicycle ride. Two birds, one stone etc. The plan was for an early roll out along the lanes, and then arrive at Lidl in Sunny Colch just ahead of the 10am store opening. What could go wrong?

There was still a slight frost shortly after 8am. This was visibly burning off with every km as I pushed ahead. There were no other cyclists at all, which was slightly odd. The only company I had was what seemed like hundreds of Essex Scouts, all scattered along the route on some sort of ramble. Character building, or something.

I made the Sunny Colch approach via the University. Campus was deserted. Easter holidays, innit. I had a momentary thought tback o thirty six years ago, where my Easter break was spent thinking how the fuck do I write a 10,000 dissertation in time for the start of the new term. Somehow I managed to blag it.

Destination Lidl was reached. The bicycle racks were full. Oh. This can only mean one thing: the cheapo road runners / cyclists of Sunny Colch all had the same idea as me. But they were ahead of the game, as I arrived fashionably late at 10:01am. ARSE.

I made my way straight to the middle aisle. I could see where the carbon wonders were, by simply looking for the bun fight that was breaking out. Blimey, these didn’t hang around long. I picked up the last pair of size 8’s for me, and the final pair of size 6’s for her. Job’s a good ‘un.

Another spring Sunday morning, another roll out on the Raleigh electric. There was a bright sun to burn off the overnight Estuary Wilds frost, plus I had some extra energy to release ahead of Forest’s big game away at Spurs later in the afternoon.

It didn’t take long for me to warm up. It wasn’t exactly short sleeves weather, but we’re not far off. You know that you’re entering the cycling season when you pass more and more riders each weekend. SHOUT OUT to the Sunny Colch Cycle UK crowd who I passed just outside of Little Bentley.

My route remains limited - for now. The lane that opens up possibilities of heading over to Lawford, Dedham and beyond remains closed. The bloody Garden Village is going to shit all over this landscape, as well as my own cycling options.

But on Sunday morning, with blue sky, a beautiful Raleigh ride and dry roads, I came up smiling.

There was Estuary Wilds blue skies to greet me on Sunday morning. After what seems like months of wet roads, this was a half decent opportunity to roll out on the Raleigh electric for a brief burst.

Chapeau!

The first Spring Classic of the year was a short 30-ish km circuit around the lanes, on the usual Bobby George BONER route. The route heading out towards Lawford is still a no go zone, thanks to the bloody Garden Village.

Daffodils had formed on either side of the road for most of the ride. There were a few other cyclists, plus plenty of runners. SHOUT OUT to the family of four out running together.

The close pass count was low. There was a couple of incidents that I could have reported, but the spring daffs had left me in a good mood. Being overtaken by a motorbike club run was a bit of an arse, especially as some of the leather boys decided to sway towards me.

Whatever.

More Spring Classics to come, please.