"In the rain (bam, bam)..." and other such lyrics

"In the rain (bam, bam), in the rain (bam, bam)...

It's funny how an ipod's shuffle facility can pick songs to match the conditions. I lost count of the songs that mentioned rain, mist, the cold, the wet and a number of other adverse meteorlogical conditions: Misty Mountain Hop (Led Zep), Red Rain (White Stripes)...

Yesterday's ride to Abergavenny and back took place underneath a wet blanket. A douvet of drizzle. A poncho of precipitation.

The rain started 15 minutes after leaving the house, in defiance of the forecast that promised rain much later in the day, and followed me to Govilon, just outside Abergavenny. Crossing the Severn Bridge proved to be a death-defying entrance into Wales as the wind tried to blow my bike out from underneath me.

The route up to Raglan normally provides a stunning view across the valley; this time the hills were shrouded in clouds and the 15% descents were taken with extreme caution.

At least the A40 provided a bit of 'fast and flat' before getting to the lunch stop with Mum, my sister, auntie, uncle and cousins.

The route back several hours later was even worse. By now the misty drizzle had turned to rain, plus the fading light made for a nervy 42 mile ride home. Coming to Devauden I could barely see 20m ahead and I was pleased to make it home in one piece.

No Rain by Blind Melon would have been welcome.

The conditions for Sunday's ride were much better, although it was anything but calm and sunny. A strong south-westerly buffeted me around Chew Valley lake but I found a nice new hill to Burrington Combe and a new route between Kennmoor Road and West End, Backwell.

With an 85-mile ride and a 62-mile ride, I feel like I've turned a corner. I'm feeling fitter, sharper and spritely on the hills, in good time too - my Epic Cycles 50 mile challenge is two weeks away.

In other news...

• Boneshaker issue 4 launched at Cafe Kino in Bristol on Friday. I have a lovely new t-shirt (detail pictured) and a great read waiting for me...
• A Garmin Edge 800 is coming my way, split 50:50 with my Dad.
• And after two punctures on my fixed wheel road bike, my mountain bike has a new wheel and slick tyre on order. Nelson lives again.

Hunger-creating, fitness-making, hangover-clearning, adrenaline-charging, skill-honing, mud-caking fun

A great mix of riding this weekend, pretty much encapsulating why I like to ride.

An early start on Saturday took me over the Severn Bridge to Magor - the midway point between my house and my Dad's. He rode to meet me and we caught up for half an hour over a coffee and a bacon sandwich. The shared interest we both have for riding bikes means we get to catch up like this regularly, no doubt boosting the takings of east Wales village cafes!

The route profile was pretty flat and normally I'd be flying along those roads but I struggled in the second half of the ride, perhaps suffering the after-effects of my crash. I was hungry, out of food and low on energy but I forced myself to add 5 extra miles so I could hit the 60-mile mark by the end of the journey. Then I ate myself silly later that afternoon - another perk of cycling!

Jake, Rose and Wilco came over on Saturday afternoon for the Mogwai gig that evening. So Sunday morning came with cloudy heads after a few too many beers. By the time more bacon sandwiches were quaffed we were just about feeling human enough to take the mountain bikes over to Cwmcarn, along with Bruce.

The recent rain made the technical uphill section slippery but it was still good to ride. It was steep and long though, so much so that Jake and Phil both threatened to be sick through the effort of the climb. They held it together though and we made it to the windswept start of the black trail.

The downhill starts with a sewer-pipe ride-through and some fun berms and table tops. We rode that section three times before moving on down the valley. The ribbon-thin route continued, parallel to the road for a few hundred metres, then wound up and down through the trees with some more technical sections.

The mid-section included a long, energy sapping climb before we could let rip downhill through the trees. Jake's hard tail took a battering at this point as our full sus bikes allowed Phil and I to eat up the rocks and boulders as the ground dropped away beneath us. My Kona rarely gets used to its full potential and when it does I wonder why I don't do it more often. I had to admit I was having a lot more fun than Saturday's solo road ride.

The end section wasn't long but it was fast and furious; a great, 20mph twisting and turning descent back to the car park. Time was against us so we had to leave after just the one lap. I'm not sure my mud-caked gears would have thanked me for a second lap anyway.

So next time I'm looking for some socialable, hunger-creating, fitness-making, hangover-clearning, adrenaline-charging, skill-honing, mud-caking fun, I'll try and repeat this weekend!

Crash, bang, wallop!

It had to happen sooner or later - after all, it'd been two years since the last time.

Yesterday I fell off my bike in pretty calamitous fashion. The night before it had been raining heavily and there was a greasy sheen on most of the roads. But with my new resolution not to let inclemental weather put me off, I went for my planned early morning pre-work ride around The Downs in Bristol.

Although I was cautious to begin with, there wasn't a frost on the roads and I'd made it four miles without the slightest incident so perhaps I became a little cocky.

But as I rounded a sweeping corner on The Downs' Circular Road, my front wheel slipped out from underneath me and I graciously deposited myself on the tarmac.

Within a flash I was up again, dusting myself off and moving my bike out of the way of the car behind me. A few people turned, looked and asked if I was ok. "Yes, yes, fine thanks," I said, secretly cursing under my breath.

My primary concern was for my bike, which now displayed permanent scarring on its brake hoods and gear levers, and for my clothing, which carried new badges of honour.

At the back of my mind, I knew my body was stinging but adrenaline took over and it wasn't until later that I saw the three inch burn on my hip and cuts to my knee and elbow.

Still, that discovery wasn't to come until I got to work, and I still had three further miles to go through city traffic. I nervously remounted and edged down the road, gripping on for dear life at the corners.

The workplace showers revealed the full extent of my cuts and bruises, and the workplace first aid kit helped me cover them up, but I couldn't disguise the limp and my wincing face as the day wore on.

I woke today feeling stiff, but with an errand to run before work, I had to cycle nine miles before getting to the office. The riding itself wasn't a problem but I nervously approached every corner, fearing a fall.

I'd completely lost my nerve, and I think it'll remain hidden until the gashes on my left hand side disappear. Looks like it's back to the turbo trainer for a few weeks then!

That's quite a shame as I was beginning to really enjoy my early morning rides, getting three in last week, and had been feeling fitter, stronger and faster than at any other time this year.

Questions going round my mind at the moment include: How do you regain your nerve? Would better tyres have stopped me falling? And how do the pros remount and continue racing day after day?!!

Three times 30-plus

Having seen the gale force winds forecast last Thursday I thought I'd be lucky to get one ride in this weekend; I actually managed three!

Windy as it was, during work on Friday afternoon Pete and I planned a short, hilly Saturday morning ride. I was doubting whether it was going to be enjoyable but Pete's apparent keenness spurred me on. Saturday morning came round and this time Pete was having second thoughts. Luckily, by this time I was dressed and ready so headed out nonetheless.

Perhaps knowing he'd feel guilty if he didn't ride, Pete changed his mind and we met at midday as planned. I'd already put in 10 miles before meeting, so felt suitably spritely on the hills, even managing some "Pantani-esque" bursts of speed up Belmont and Tickenham hills. (Forgive me for comparing myself to a professional riding, I've just finished The Death Of Marco Pantani by Matt Rendell and am feeling a little inspired.)

The wind made cycling in any vaguely south or westerly direction a real slog so we concentrated on short, hard bursts, taking time to catch up and chat in between. After an hour and a half we called it a day and I rode back to north Bristol, clocking 36 miles for the morning.

Sunday morning's ride followed a Saturday afternoon rugby beers and a Saturday night birthday celebration. With a hazy memory of the evening's events, miraculously I felt well enough the following morning to head out. I took the Severn Road Club 10-mile time trial route, clocking a disappointing 26m 50s. Although it's almost two minutes slower than my PB, I didn't feel too disheartened. It was a battle to race in that wind and to keep my mind on the job in hand. Plus I felt pretty sick when I finished, so either my hangover was kicking in or I'd been working at near maximum effort, or both.

After riding 10-miles to get to the start, plus the 10-mile TT, the returning 12-miles to home were taken at a snail's pace as I pottered around the lanes, barely picking up the pace for the hills. A cramp in my foot, my hangover and the now constant headwind defeated my morale. However, I clocked 32 miles in 1hr 46m, with an average speed of 18.1mph.

On Monday I took the day off work so I could stay up late on Sunday night and watch the Super Bowl. So, with a free day on Monday and nothing planned, I used the opportunity to get in three consecutive days of riding. Pete also had the day off so we took our fixed wheel bikes out and to ride from Bristol to Bath along the railway path. The smooth surface and very gentle uphill gradient on the outward journey made it the perfect route to for steady, sustained speed... but that's a bit boring!

Instead we raced, egged each other on, rode in slip-stream formation and exhausted ourselves over the 34-mile out and back journey. We both felt beat as we came back into the city, struggling up the final climbs to our respective houses.

So a hill climbing workout, a time trial and a fixed wheel training ride made it 100 miles in three days. Great to get more miles under my belt, especially something a bit different, but it's about time to work on stamina and longer rides I think. I'm already looking forward to this coming Saturday.

Dark mornings and evenings and wet and windy weather limit time in the saddle

So the days and weeks slowly pass by as we head towards warmer months. Our frozen fingers and toes are thawing. The joy of feeling the sun's warmth on our backs as we pedal past fields and farmland is coming. Although it's not quite here yet.

For now, dark mornings and evenings and February's wet and windy weather still limit our time spent in the saddle.

I'm hitting the turbo trainer three times a week and fitting in rides on the weekend when I can. Their length tends to be dictated by the weather - last week's cold, icy conditions restricted me to two and a half hours on Saturday; this weekend's blustery gales sent me on hard 30-40 mile bursts, rather than long, soul-destroying rides into roaring headwinds.

My first 'event' of the year is coming up in March - Epic Cycles 50-mile Spring Challenge - which is sure to test my early season fitness. The route includes 1772ft of Clee Hill, the highest point in Shropshire, which always guarantees a tough slog to the top. My best place in this friendly sportive was 7th, in 2009, so I'll be hoping that last year's 6450 miles and this year's early season efforts will see me place even higher (especially if I don't take a wrong turn, miss the first wave and get caught at traffic lights again!).

I'm also considering entering some 4th cat races, having read some interesting pieces on road.cc and Bike Radar websites. My nearest races appear to be at Castle Coombe or Ilton airfield near Taunton - both between 40-60 minutes by car from my house. But it seems like there's a quite a few steps to take before turning up and riding - racing licence, riding etiquette and honing my group riding skills. Thursday, 5th May will be the first chance I get to check this out - the date is marked in my diary, whether I'll simply spectate or take part is yet to be answered.