I had a fantastic ride today, except for one little thing.

I was out on the Stiffee, blasting up and down the hills of Gloucestershire. I’d climbed the fireroads, descended on some ace singletrack, blatted down roads, got chased by dogs, moo-ed at some cows, got absolutely caked in mud and generally enjoyed myself. There was huge puddles, thick mud and even patches of snow here and then. I was informed by a walker that it was complete insanity to be out there in shorts, but I was fine all the time I was moving.

I was about two thirds of the way up the final climb when I started to notice the roots and rocks a lot more through the back of the bike. That can mean only one thing. Flat back tyre. Arse. This meant stopping in the biting wind to change it.

Typical. I got the old tube out and inflated it, only to find that there was no sign of a puncture. What’s more, there’s no sign of a thorn in the tyre – I’ll just have to risk putting the new tube straight in then. I just love punctures like that. I got one last week, and I pumped up the old tube when I got home to see if I could find the puncture. Its still up now.

By the time I was done I couldn’t feel my fingers and I was shivering like a good’un. I soon warmed up once I got going again though, and the new inner tube is a gert big DH one – so hopefully it’ll be a lot harder to puncture.

I really don’t get out and ride cross-country often enough. Its great – like a little adventure every time I go out. I always forget just how much fun it is going out in horrible conditions, so when I get up in the morning (or more likely, the afternoon) I can’t bring myself to get out there unless its sunny. But going out today in the wind and rain was ace! What’s more it seemed like I was the only rider out there. I descended a trail, and then rode back up it a couple of hours later – and the only tyre marks I saw were my own.

I got back and got in the shower and got that mad “I-was-cold-just-now-and-now-i’m-boiling” tingly itching thing all over. Bweeeuurrrh.