Inspired by the la Vuelta Time Trial rollout the night before, I set out on my own personal race against time on Sunday morning. It wasn’t quite the Monaco backdrops that the pro riders on la Vuelta were able to enjoy. Instead I had Great Bentley and surrounds.

It’s been a few weeks also since I rode around this patch. The first sightings of the Invasion Colchester posters have started to appear. This is an annual event where sci-fi and cartoon characters appear around the half town/city as part of a charity event.

The riding conditions were fresh for me this morning. I wasn’t chilled and I wasn’t overly warm.

In my nostrils was the smell of freshly cut grass coming from I’m not quite sure where. Good luck in finding any fresh grass in which to cut around these estuary wilds parts of late.

I felt a lot stronger throughout the ride. I’ve gone many months without riding the roadie. This is now slowly building up.

Strava, the old bastard, tends to disagree. It clocked me as being a four seconds slower when compared to the exact same route of a week ago.

A brief pre-match ride ahead of Forest’s first home game of the season against DIRTY Leeds on Saturday morning. New season, same old pre-match nerves. Running was out of the question because I’m a crock. Likewise for swimming with a dodgy shoulder.

I can just about managed to get all the mechanical parts of my body functioning that are required to turn the pedals on a bicycle. I rolled out in search of a little serenity along the Estuary Wilds lanes.

Less than two minutes in and I had the first dickhead close pass. What a silly cow.

This was no genuine mistake. It was clear a car was approaching in the opposite direction but nope, Madam Twatty Face Driver just had to jump ahead of me, narrowly avoiding the other car and even narrowly avoiding me.

When in doubt then cyclists are always the easy moving target. A dickhead close passer doesn’t want to crash their crappy car into another crappy car. They would rather take me out. What a silly cow.

Hey hoe.

I pressed on. What could go wrong? Oh the skies are starting to darken. Maybe my pre-match nerves were being better resolved sitting at home listening to some jazz. Whatever.

Finally I found some peace along the lanes. I also found a mild headwind, which slowed me down slightly.

The company along the roads out in the middle of bloody nowhere soon became quite appealing. I had to slow down as I overtook a very friendly coach being pulled along by a couple of horses.

I then also had to swerve the horseshit along the lanes for the next mile or so.

The dickhead motorist was soon forgotten when I had a little dance with a dragonfly. It must have been close to 10 cm in length. It clearly longed for companionship. It floated along incredibly close to my helmet, almost drifting in my midstream.

Or was that the other way around?

I was back at base in time for Forest. Pre-match nerves had been settled. We are going to absolutely BATTER dirty dirty Leeds United, right?

Erm…

And drivers wonder why cyclists ride in middle of the road

via road.cc

I think I’ve just about reconnected with all of my existing bicycle ride routes post the great reopening of access to the Tendring Peninsula for me. Boy, I miss riding out around those parts. Being cut off at source, as a link road which leads to nowhere was being built, was no fun.

Sunday lunchtime was the final missing piece in the jigsaw. It’s no great shakes. It’s the old Bobby George BONER route with the added Great Bentley little offshoot circular add-on.

I have been able to ride this route before, but the road closure during all the rebuilding work meant I was forced along a pretty shitty detour that involved cycling a very bumpy, gravelly little path right alongside an A road. No ta.

Sunday was pretty much bliss. To my surprise there were also some wonderful new stretches of tarmac along the roads I have not ridden in over a year. We are talking proper black, deep, thick tarmac here as well.

Essex County Council went through a phase of thinking that road rebuilding meant spreading a layer of glue along the road and then dumping a truck full of shingles all over it.

It didn’t take long, however, for the new tarmac to already have a Stone Roses style paint job along one particular stretch. Someone has had fun with a very large pot of white Deluxe.

The lanes became more enclosed and quieter as the ride progressed. I then realised I was actually riding the Ride of the Falling Leaves, albeit a couple of months too early.

Mother Nature really is fucked.

Have access to a road bicycle, will travel. I’m making the most of these dry days when I can be out freewheeling on the roadie. Having been blocked from accessing most of my bicycles since Easter because of scaffolding, now is the time to ride.

Ride to live, live to ride.

The bicycle Brucie bonus is that the gateway from Weird Wiv over into the Tendring peninsula is finally open. The road works and the link road that isn’t a link road are allowing access for cyclists. Just ignore that sign that says CCTV in operation, right.

I headed over on the Lawford route. I’ve not ridden this in over a year. It felt good to be out along some of the extremely remote country lanes on Saturday morning.

I wasn’t alone enjoying the new found road freedom around these parts. The first sighting of fellow cyclists was a magnificent-looking electric tandem.

Chapeau!

I was also experimenting with my own cycling fashion attire. The sun was failing to break through. The meant that I could wear short sleeves and my new Brixton Cycles cycling bib. There was little sun to penetrate through my fresh black ink beautifully painted on my body.

Elsewhere around the lanes there were a few horse riders also enjoying the early morning solitary leisure activity. I made some slow progress as I approached one particular horse who looked a little nervy from behind.

The lush lanes that I’ve not ridden for a year have taken something of a hammering. One particular stretch close to Lawford appears to have seen a wildfire breaking out along a stretch of the ditch. It’s completely gutted and is still smouldering.

I reached Dead Lane. It was as joyless as ever. It’s an essential little link lane which allows me to cut through a housing estate currently being built, and then on to the return leg for the round route.

The onions in the field look dead on their feet - or should that be dead on their roots? They were exposed and already semi-fried, simmering away in their rural setting.

Back at base and Strava says I was a minute off a PB for this route. Not bad considering I’ve not ridden it in over twelve months.

Another day, another MAD DOG bicycle ride on the roadie. It’s been quite liberating having access to my road bike once again. Have bicycle, will travel, etc.

And so that’s exactly what I did, rolling out shortly before midday in the general direction of the Tendering Peninsula.

I was feeling especially brave crossing over the Borough boundary on the morning of the victory that wasn’t a victory for the dickhead Farage.

Great Bentley Green was reached first. Great Bentley Green wasn’t exactly very green.

By now I was absolutely bloody loving the road bike. It is able to generate such speed as well as being incredibly agile with its handling.

The next location I sped through was Ainger’s Green. The village still has crappy, tatty St George’s flags flying at half-mast from various lampposts.

Who died?

Oh I see, it’s just little man syndrome. You couldn’t even get your poxy flag to the top of the lamppost. Never mind.

The wind turbines around the coast then became within my sight. These were absolutely lifeless.

It’s been six months or so since I last completed this route. Another housing estate has started and has now been finished since I last passed through.

I allowed myself a brief stop for a drink along my favourite stretch of this route. The water was warm. The road surface was sticky.

Back at base Strava tells me I was two minutes behind a PB on this route. Not bad for a heat wave.

I returned to cycling around the bloody Estuary Wilds early on Sunday morning. This was my first time back rolling out on a pair of large wheels. Various household shit going off has blocked access to my bikes. Finally an end is in sight.

Have large wheel bike, will travel.

Chapeau!

We pumped up some air in the roadies and started to live out our pro-rider cycling dreams. We’ve all done that, right?

The route over towards the Suffolk side of our patch has been blocked for the past year or so. Blame the bloody Garden Village.

A quick shifty on the Essex County Council live traffic website the night before revealed that the country lane, which now crosses over a new link road to nowhere, should be open once again. What could possibly go wrong?

We reached the junction where we would normally keep on cycling down a country lane and head out towards the middle of bloody nowhere. I’m really surprised with the speed it has taken to complete the new road.

I think it was officially open although it was hard to tell with the very low level of Sunday morning traffic.

As well as appearing out of nowhere, I think the road leads to nowhere. My online snooping last night suggests there is still some more work to do and it comes to a dead stop.

I found it really hard to get my bearings. Basically the new road has been built right over the top of the small country lane that we use as our escape route. Rather helpfully there were some cycle crossings across the main road.

Logic told me that the crossing would bring me back to the other side of my lane. I reached the other side of the A road but still found it hard to get my bearings. Around a minute or so later and I was back on track.

It might have been a new road but there was the same old mattresses being dumped. I also had a bit of a run-in with a dickhead van driver who took offence to me at riding a bike on a Sunday morning. I took offence to him being a dickhead van driver.

Finally we reached freedom and some rolling country lanes. The fields looked like autumn but the weather felt like mid-June. We’re completely fucked when it comes to the climate.

A couple of hills were climbed. It felt good once again to be cleated in and dancing on my pedals. I’ve still got it Comrades, I’ve still got it.

Destination Dedham was reached. We stopped for a brief drink and then carried on around some of the other quiet lanes.

There was a sign in one straw field with a large sign saying: Don’t be a tosser. It’s all about not discarding fag ends innit.

A bit of a round circuit was reached and we crossed over the new A road and were heading back to base. Some fella sped past us in the opposite direction with a pair of time trial handlebars. Good effort.

We were back home in time for the bloody church bells to get right on my tits.

I took the iScooter U4 out for its proper real test today as part of a combined trip to Home Bargains, Lidl, and then a swim. LIVE the dream, Jace.

Having been mildly impressed with the new bicycle yesterday, I’m now on a bit of a downer with it. Put simply it’s a bit pants. You pay for what you get, etc.

Power assist one and power assist two are completely useless. They are capped at 10 and 15 km per hour. I can actually cycle faster with the motor turned off.

The top power assist level 3, however, is a different matter. Hit that mode and VROOM, you’re flying! You’re actually flying a little too fast. My legs couldn’t keep up with the speed at which the motor was being rotated.

The route into the gym was half decent irrespective of the bicycle. Whitehall Road has been resurfaced in the past week and now rides like a dream; that’s a dream apart from the usual dickhead motorists who seem to treat this particular stretch of Sunny Colch as a close-pass paradise.

It was also particularly windy. Rowing had already been cancelled for the morning. I was pleased to have power assist three to take me up Whitehall Road, despite he pace it chose to transport me.

I rocked up at the gym. It’s been closed for the past few days with a complete refit of the main gym space. It looks pretty impressive. I skipped it all and headed straight for the pool.

This was my first swim after a week away. I felt strong. Once again the spin dryer in the gents had been removed for repairs. Fancy gym equipment, same old shitty spin dryer.

I really need to get my head around the iScooter U4. I’m pondering a return.

And so I finally got round to road testing the new iScooter U4 that arrived on Wednesday. Having spent a couple of hours setting it up with the various extra build that was required, I was a little unsure that my mechanical skills would allow me a safe passage.

It pissed it down in the Estuary Wilds yesterday. It wasn’t exactly great conditions for road testing a new electric bike. I had bright sunshine early in the evening on Friday. This was perfect to go rolling out. Chapeau!

First thoughts: Woh! This is a bloody heavy beast of a bike. I kinda knew that anyway. The specs say 26 kg. The Raleigh electrics with their big wheels are only slightly heavier at 27 kg. Side by side they look like a boxing mismatch between a heavyweight and a featherweight, except the featherweight is something of a lard arse.

I experimented with the various assist modes as I made my way out of town, past the university and down to the Hythe. My first thoughts are that assist mode 1 and 2 are pants. I couldn’t feel any extra boost. I’m not entirely convinced that there isn’t an issue with the bike.

But switch up to assist mode 3 and shit the bed! Here’s where the real pace kicks in. The only issue is that it’s a single-speed bike and it’s difficult to keep up with a pedalling pace when you reach the top speed, which is capped at 25 km/h.

I did fit the throttle to the bike. This opens up a whole new world. I climbed up Boundary Road without pedalling in throttle mode only.

It always takes a while to get used to any new bicycle set-up. The iScooter U4 may be something of a steep learning curve.

From the test ride my observations are that this is basically a slightly inferior moped. Once you get over the shame of using the throttle and not pedalling, it could actually be a very decent run around for trips in and out of town.

A pair of panniers also arrived this morning. They have been fitted and fit perfectly. I think I need to view this bike as purely an A to B for short distances with panniers packed up with cheapo Lidl booze.

And so New Bike Day arrived. New Bike Day is the best day.

It was perfect weather conditions for a New Bike Say as well. That’s perfect weather conditions if you don’t plan to ride the New Bike.

It was ideal in that I had to stay in waiting for Mr Delivery Man. He came during a torrential downpour. Now would be a good time to unpack and start to build.

Oh dear. Here’s where the fun starts. I was aware that my purchase of an iScooter U4 didn’t come completely assembled. I have zero mechanical bike skills. All I needed was a clear head, a cup of tea, and an extra strong pair of reading glasses.

Around two hours later I finally emerged triumphant. It wasn’t that technical but if you get the odd slight thing wrong here and there, you could find yourself descending at 40 kmh and something falls off that shouldn’t be falling off.

The first thing I did was to take out the battery and charge it. It was already fully charged. That was a good sign.

Next up was the bike stem. That was simple enough. The most tricky part was attaching the new front wheel and getting it aligned correctly with the disc brakes. I surprised myself at the ease in which I achieved this.

I fiddled around getting the OCD perfection of the bike bell and the throttle installed exactly where I want them. The finishing touch was the seat and the pedals. They were a piece of piss to be honest.

Now I’ve got a fully assembled New Bike. It looks the absolute bollocks. I’m not sure how it will ride but that’s not really the point, as long as it looks good.

Chapeau!