OK, cheesy title, but I didn't quite know how to advocate the use of a cycle helmet in a whitty one-liner.
Once again I'm off! Yes, in true Helen style, I've wrecked my precious pink Giro helmet, and am adorning a stylish new skin of purple with red streaks, accentuated by 'flesh' coloured plasters - though who has flesh that colour I'll never know.
In an attempt to make the most of the fabulously light evenings, and the warmth they bring the bikes made a mid-week escape from the garage. A less than auspicious start came in the form of a flat tyre. Hoping it was just a slow puncture I pumped it back to it's preferred PSI and scooted off. I made it up the to the top of the ridge with relative ease, surveyed the terrain, and went for it. The heathers either side of a treacherous path were scraping at my ankles, so I decided to take the seemingly more sensible wide and well trodden path. How wrong I was. Dusty, gravelly and very uneven paths, as wide as they were, were no match for my hybrid tyres. I need nobbles! Wibble I went, and then splat, bounce, splat, and suffice it to say that I need a new helmet, and ribena isn't the best choice for cleaning your wounds. Stick to plain water in your bottle!
Still, all good fun, and nothing much broken apart from the record of achievements stored in my cycle computer. Boo, hiss.
Nobbles here I come!