#to climb steep hills requires a slow pace

[bikepackinguk]

Day One Hundred and Seven

It's a brisk morning as I wake in the pre-dawn twilight in a park bench in Pevensey. I have my bivvy huddled around me to keep me nice and warm, but I know I'll soon miss the chill air. It's another clear sky above meaning the temperature will soon rise!

I get my gear stowed away once more and it's back to the road again, following Route 2 as it loops past Pevensey and heads out around the Pevensey Levels.

I'm soon back to the shore once more at Normans Bay, and the road leads on into Hastings.

It's another long stretch of coastline riding along the promenade sections here, and with the sun rising over the water makes for a beautiful start to the day.

Right along the length of Hastings' beach I ride, before the route swings inland to track up and around the cliffs past Hastings Old Town.

After an initial steep grind up through the back roads, the path leads on to a long steady climb into the hills of Hastings Country Park. It's some effort in the rising heat, but the nice leafy surrou offer some nice scenery as well as appreciated shade.

Cresting the hills, the route leads back out to the roads once again, and it's off on a zooming downhill through Fairlight.

It's at this point where my.bike begins to make some very worrying noises, which worsen as my pace increases. fearing the worst, I pull over to try and figure out what's awry.

Alas, what I find is one of the worst outcomes I'd been fearing over this adventure - one of the spokes on my rear wheel has gone kaput and snapped.

That's a fairly major problem! There's a significant buckle to the wheel, and the spoke in question is threaded behind the rear chainset. In most circumstances, modern bikes can be maintained and repaired with a fairly basic set of tools, but this is one situation that requires some more specialised equipment which I do not have with me.

With a check of the map showing no bike shops within many miles, I'm going to have to get my own way out of this. Whilst properly trueing a wheel can be a bitnof a dark art, it's not something I'm proficient at, though I do have a spoke wrench in my pack for emergencies such as this.

I manage to snap off as much of the spoke as I can to prevent it making its way into any other components and set to work. With a little trial and error I'm able to at least get the rim righted enough that the wheel can rotate freely - it's very much a temporary fix and there's still a bit of buckle going on, but it should be enough to at least get kenin motion once more.

Hell, with only a couple hundred miles left in this voyage, it might even be enough to see me home, but I'll have to take some care and a pinch of luck for that. But I've had a good dose of that so far, and Ol' Bessie is quite a tank of a bike, so fingers crossed!

Nothing for it now but to load the gear back on and gently get underway. I'm taking it slow and steady following the road out past Pett Level and on through Winchelsea, but everything seems to be rolling ok so far, so my emergency tinkering may have proven fruitful.

Route 2 leads on down a very rocky pathway to Rye, which I don't like the look of given my current wheel concerns, so I travek up and over the nearby hill to instead take the road into town.

The B2089 has a closure on part of it, typical given my sudden reliance on it. However, as various cars and vans ignore the signs and are then forced to turn around, being on bike has a great advantage in that I can instantly jump off and become a pedestrian, walking around the roadworks and carrying on.

After a shirt break in the park in Rye to refuel and calm my nerves a little, I follow on through the twisting streets it's on to some nice segregated pathways around farm pastures and nature reserves to head past the beautiful beach of Camber Sands, and then a long trek around the roads to head around the MOD firing range at Dungeness.

With a busy A road hitting the coast past here, I stick with NCN Route 2 as it passes through Lydd and takes off around the country lanes to avoid the heavy traffic.

It's a nice meander of quiet farm roads, though the sun is doing its best to wring more sweat from.

Twisting around through Romney Marsh, the roads eventually deliver me to a towpath beside the Royal Military Canal.

I take a welcome break in the shade of the trees for a moment, then head down this lovely trail as it leads down the canalside, past numerous picnic spots and beautiful green areas, before arriving in the pleasant town of Hythe.

After a quick resupply, I follow on with Route 2 as it yracks further along the canal, before some less obvious signage means I head down some rougher pathways that are rife with tree roots and stones. Not what I'm after whilst nursing this wheel along!

I manage to extricate myself from the pathways and get back out to the seafront, where a great long stretch of promenade riding awaits me.

Around and under the cliffsides the pathing continues, leading on beside the beach to round the corner and lead on to the famous port of Folkstone.

The seaside riding finally ends just shy of the harbour, where I'm obliged to head up around the footpaths and back to the roads.

Rounding the edge of Folkstone, the road begins to climb up and as I ascend I get a great sight of the iconic white cliffs that South East Kent is famed for.

The gradient increases as it's time to slog up onto the top of the cliffs,l. Thankfully the route is away from traffic as it tracks a pathway up and up, but it's still some heavy going.

Finally reaching the top of the climb, I turj to receive an outstanding view of Folkstone far below. With the day still being clear and bright, it's even possible to make out the coast of France from up here!

I head a little further around the road towards Capel-le-Ferne, past an old pillbox, but soon realise that rush hour is kicking in and the roads ahead are soon to be heaving with impatient commuters.

Given the good mileage made today, and the stresses of worrying repairs, I think it's time to call it for the day. I'd thankfully spotted a nice secluded spot on my slog up the cliffs that should offer a fair night's rest, as well as a beautiful view for the morning, so it's time to get some rest ready for tomorrow.

TTFN!

[thelighthousestale]

To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first

Cool thin mist still rolled down the mountainside as Sirius trekked around the rocky trail that meandered its way around the brutal landscape that protected the castle from the eyes of unexpecting muggles.

He didn't know where he was going. He woke up that morning with a thudding heart. With the need to move.

To get out.

"Stain of my flesh! How dare you walk away from your family! What will become of you now?!"

To find fresh air.

"Do not be so foolish. I've been too soft with you. It is time for you to grow up and live up to your family duty."

To breathe.

"Just come home. Mother will forgive you. I don't understand what point you are trying to make by tearing us apart."

While the morning air was still wet and chill, Sirius knew it wouldn't be long before the summer sun began to bring golden warmth to the air.

"Oh Dear Cousin, you could help bring our family name to new heights. You could be great. You would be beloved like me."

Each broken twig he stepped on and pebble he kicked drummed together into a dull march as the sun peaked higher into the cool grey sky.

"Filth! Shame! Traitor!"

"You are a far braver boy than I am chap, I can't help but think you'll be the one to bring this family out of its old ways. I wish I could help you more."

"Why have you wronged me? What curse has befallen me to give me such a son!"

It always felt wrong. The mountains and valleys of the north should always be a cold dark place. When the warm air came it felt suffocating to Sirius. The hot air always clung to his lungs making it hard to breathe. A reminder that things change. Time moves on. He struggled to move through thick hot air.

"Mr. Black you are without a doubt one of the brightest students I have ever taught. You can do anything you want. What do see yourself doing after Hogwarts?"

Billions of years old. That's how old the Scottish Highlands are. The pebbles he kicked with his dragonhide boots were once part of an era on this planet when life had not formed. When the only breath to be made was the wind tunneling through rock and stone.

"Mr. Black the only advice I can give to you is this: Use what you can in order to do whatever you can to do something that matters."

How could anything, Sirius thought to himself, possibly matter when you had looked into the stone eyes of the unfathomable old age of the earth itself.

"Filth! Shame! Traitor!"

"Son."

"Brother."

"Cousin."

"Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

"Padfoot!" A familiar call cut through the silence.

Sirius snapped his head up and toward a lanky dark-haired boy whose hands were placed in the back pockets of his trousers. A wide grin on his face, the new day sun reflecting gold in his hazel eyes.

"Hey, Prongs."

James Potter walked past Sirus onto the precipice of a boulder that jutted out the mountainside and looked down upon the grounds of Hogwarts. His arms stretched out as he surveyed the domain. Their domain. After all the nights wandering the grounds, mapping them out, running as animals, they were sure no one knew the grounds of Hogwarts better than them. So it felt natural to feel ownership over it.

Or maybe the feeling was of home. If Sirius knew what home felt like then surely it was Hogwarts.

James grinned back at him, "Funny to think about isn't it?"

"What is?"

"How big the castle used to look when we arrived on the boats."

"It's still a pretty big castle, James. You're just seeing it from a different perspective."

James walked back towards Sirius and shrugged. "Well, we made our mark here, didn't we? The stuff of legends we are."

James threw his arm around Sirius' shoulder. He could feel James' familiar warmth radiate through his body and for the first time since Sirius woke up that morning, he felt his heartbeat slow to its natural rhythm.

James was always warm. But not in a sweltering, suffocating way. In a friendly, cozy, comfortable, completely James way.

"Come on, Padfoot. Let's grab one last breakfast in the kitchens with the lads before the train gets here."

Perhaps warmth wasn't such as suffocating feeling after all.

[mahiru-chan]

To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first

[quotivation]

"To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first." William Shakespeare

[tcssrsolutionsllc]

To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first. This immortal advice from the Bard appears in the first scene of Shakespeare’s play “Henry VIII.” When the Duke of Buckingham expresses dislike for a character he thinks is manipulating the king, the Duke of Norfolk cautions him to proceed carefully and not to let his anger best him. Hundreds of years later, this suggestion is still a good one for all of us to take to heart. Hasty action rarely leads to successful results; in stepping back from a situation and pausing to think, we gain insight and perspective that can help us choose the smartest course. https://legalshield.pplsixinfo.com/bZdkbPwvR0?Method=C. If you have problems viewing the information you can copy and paste it into your browser. https://www.instagram.com/p/CqSlk4pr_tH/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[justwatchmyeyes]

"To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first." ~William Shakespeare

[nuttynutninja]

To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first. - William Shakespeare "Enjoy your day - Free Stuff In my Bio"

[libxrtaspxpuli]

Daemons

Under the cut are each of my muses’ daemons in the His Dark Materials Universe, both form once they’ve settled and what they’re called

Leonardo- Owl called Leauna

Lorenzo- Lioness called Luluja

Giuliano- Capuchin Monkey called Calithea

Nico- Ermine called Aesina

Zoroaster- Fox called Serilda

Riario- Panther called Zita

Carlo- Burmese Python called Gaia

Amelia- Lion called Aslan

Giulio- Beagle called Morgana

Madame Singh- Golden Lion Tamarin called Icarus

Sophia- Deer called Merlin

Zita- Lynx called Sylph

Cosimo- White Wolf called Anna-Maria

Lucrezia Maria- Brown Bear called Abayen

Contessina Beatrice- Siberian Husky called Bremh

Luisa- Friesian Horse called Tronnal

Contessina Antonia- Parrot called Loki

Ima Kama- Ring-tailed Lemur called Dionysus

Vanessa- Chameleon called Demitri

Al-Rahim- Tigress called Ori

[eatfood-nottoomuch-mostlyplants]

"To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first." - William Shakespeare [2048x1367]

[greatmindquotes]

To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first. - William Shakespeare

[ultrahenry101]

To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first

William Shakespeare

[quote-diaries]

To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.

William Shakespeare

[gainerstories]

Full House: Chapter 9

Read prior chapters here

By the end of dinner Anthony and Jared’s thighs were in full contact underneath the table. This was partially due to the sheer space the two fatties took up, exacerbated by the mountains of grub they had stuffed down their throat, but also due to the fact that the roommates were itching to get back into one another’s pants.

The entire table, including Brad, had consumed an inordinate amount of food and beer. The waiter was shocked by the unbridled gluttony of so many gay men, but also delighted by the hefty tip he was sure to receive. Overall, the meal lasted two and a half hours and by the time they paid the check each man was excruciatingly full. They joked about how they were unsure if they could even stand up, let alone walk out of the restaurant. Anthony, Jared, and Hyun, had each begun to sweat and were in desperate need of a Tums to settle their aching stomachs and acid reflux. It struck Jared that piling into a tiny Uber would be absolute torture, so he and the boys decide to order an SUV. Better safe than sorry.

When the Uber arrived they struggled out of the booth and waddled to the curb. Jared was so full that he had to stop midway and catch his breath before continuing to the car with the rest of his mates. Once they all were piled inside, the car wreaked of the sweaty engorged men’s body odor. The smell filled the cabin, and although the driver was probably disgusted, all four men were getting hornier by the second.  The route back to their apartment required the Uber to climb an excessively steep hill and it became apparent the vehicle was ill-equipped to haul such a heavy load. The pace of the car slowed considerably and it was obvious the driver had to floor it just to keep a reasonable speed.

Brad sprung a dripping boner watching the engorged fatties recline in discomfort in the SUV, their blubber jiggling with every bump of the car. He reached over and caressed Anthony’s belly to ease his pain. The muscled bear let out a soft sigh of approval and muttered “don’t stop.” Brad’s other hand slipped under Anthony’s shorts to massage his sweaty cock for moment. In the back, Hyun and Jared sat without seat belts for they couldn’t muster the effort to force them to lock. Hyun would occasionally burp or fart if they hit a particularly nasty bump. Jared attempted to kiss or cuddle his boyfriend on three occasions but each time couldn’t manage such a physically exhausting feat. It felt as if his wobbling stomach encompassed his whole body and was pinning him down. When they finally arrived home the four men were excited to lay down but also incredibly aroused.

“C’mon fatties,” Brad gleefully exclaimed upon their arrival, “let’s at least get you boys to the couch.”

The three chubs let out a thunderous moan in unison at this proposition. Regardless, they had no choice but to vacate the Uber. Anthony was the first out and felt instantly invigorated by the fresh cold air of the outside world. He lumbered inside, grabbed a beer and cracked it on the couch. Hyun was out next, but the struggle of escaping from the back seat caused a slight tear in the crotch of his jeans. He plopped on the couch next to Anthony, who had turned on Netflix. Jared experienced quite a bit of difficulty excavating himself from the car. His newfound girth made any such situation difficult, but it didn’t help that he was stuffed to the gills. Every lurch made the contents of his stomach sway and gurgle, threatening to explode back out the way they came. At last he made it inside the house and waddled over to the couch. Unfortunately, Hyun and Anthony left little room for Jared’s massive form, so, exasperated, Jared laid flat on the ground.

Brad appeared with three glasses of alka seltzer, “oh no boys, looks like we outgrew the living room. How ‘bout this, we move up to Anthony’s bed, he has a King.”

“We have a bedroom too, ya know,” grunted Hyun.

“Do you have a screen projector, alka seltzer, and a doting twink in there too?” Queried Brad.

“Let’s go,” said Anthony and belched thunderously. I need some cuddles.

The Italian bear hoisted himself from the couch, grabbed another beer, and headed for the stairs.

“Fuck,” muttered Hyun, “the stairs.” He turned to Jared, “Babe, get up... let’s go lay down on a real bed.”

“I honestly don’t know if I can get up,” Jared muttered through labored breathing.

Hyun attempted to help Jared up, further tearing his pants in the process, but he wasn’t of much assistance considering he could barely bend over himself. After two attempts of trying to sit up at the waist, Jared realized his belly was just too mountainous and rolled over on his side. Finally with the help of both Hyun and Brad, the fatty finally got onto his feet. His next obstacle: the stairs.

[cashthebrash]

“To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first. “                  

—  William Shakespeare

[ridingintotheunknown]

Day 4 - The Reward

112km | 1,500m ascent | 2,300m descent | 60km/h max speed.

John returns When the day starts with John cleaning his chain, you know all is right with the world. And there he is, cleaning and tweaking and pumping. A sight we haven't seen til now. And the sign of good things to come. For much of the day, we see John's back ahead of us on the climbs. The Jaguar may have got a little older, but today it showed signs of purring.

Mountain climbing The day starts with a 400m climb. The trees have changed - from the fresh new green deciduous leaved oaks and acers (?) that have made much of the travels so beautiful - to the alpine firs of previous trips. It smells different. The shade is denser. As the gradient increases, we each sink into our climbing world. 3% - click onto the small front ring. 7% - you are on the big 32 tooth back ring. That's it, the only thing you've got now is power (effort) and cadence (spin speed). The gradient is far from shallow. Breathing gets deeper. Heart rates rise and are managed - 140-150bpm - you don't want to be holding it much faster than that for long. There's talk of the 'tap of desperation' a gentle push on the gear lever just to check that there isn't another gear.

Pain in the piriformis Climbing requires more power than any of us are used to on our UK rides. The piriformis is a muscle in the buttock that connects the thigh round to the back of the pelvis that appears to come into play. (The one you stretch in the pigeon pose.) It's here you feel the climbing. And it hurts after a few days.

Like a wounded wildebeest...! Quietly struggling at your limit, hoping that every corner will reveal the summit, this is the cry you don't want to hear coming from behind. It means you are slowing down and Mark's Swiss alpine training is paying off - soon you will be overtaken and sink even deeper into your pain cave.

No flies on me As the pace slows, the flies arrive to hitch a ride. Careful how you breathe. Luckily the big biting horseflies don't seem to be able to keep up, preferring to bite when you're resting in the shade of a tree.

The high ridge The climb done, that's the worst of it for the day. We emerge onto a high ridge with beathtaking views. Green as far as the eye can see. This is the greenest (least industrialised and least populated) parts of Europe. The air is clean. Breathe deep.

The road twists and turns gently meandering slightly up, slightly down, snaking its way along the ridge. It's lovely. We zip along in ones and twos just absorbing it all.

Sometimes you just need to stop pedalling There's a small chapel, wooden tables with views to both sides. As my pace slows, I'm enveloped in peace. Just cicadas and birdsong.

Wheel hubs Different brands of wheel have different freewheels. Some are silent. Some are bloody noisy like Mark's - "If it's annoying you, it's working."

The ride starts to go downhill In a good way.

Look where you want to go That's the secret to cornering (and perhaps a lesson for life.) It's not easy to do. You want to look at the road you are about to roll over, or the rock you want to avoid. But no, you will go where you look, so keep your eyes up.

The corners are fast though kept in check by the surface that is not reliably smooth..

The lunch stop Is in a little village just off the road. We make our way down a steep narrow hill and arrive at a pretty cafe at the heart of the village. A hearse goes past. Then the local greengrocer in his pickup truck replete with till at the back an loud hailer. The honey man is promised but never arrives (he doesn't have a phone). We are fed to bursting - the ubiquitous Greek salad, meatballs, sausages and chips all sprinkled with fresh oregano. (Everything comes with oregano, it even seems to be the most popular flavour of crisps.)

Having come down, we need to go back up. We ask the lady - she recommends going down a little further, then left - "it's entirely flat the whole way up" - we think we hear her say.

It's steep - 20% in paces - the front wheel lifts - stand up - weight forward - take your time.

Our Alex He's lovely, careful in what he says, diplomatic you could say. Warm and funny. Underneath it all you know he's a good sensible man. But put him on a bicycle going downhill and he's transformed. Caution is shredded and torched. Has anyone told him how to use the brakes? The king of the descents, he seems able to take the corners faster and with a firmer line than any of us. Even Alex the guide struggles to keep up, and he's an anarchist madman.

The swim The road levels out somewhat. The temperature is rising. We are cycling down a valley, clicking off the kilometres. But it feels sleepy. I feel sleepy. Then there is Georgios pulled up under a glade. Swim time. We all jump in, looking like 1920s men in our 'bathers'. We slide over a weir into deep, cold, fresh mountain water. Sanity and spirit are restored.

Peleton! Onwards. We are on the flat plains of Thessaly. A long dead straight road as far as the eyes can see, and beyond. There's only one thing for it... an informal peleton forms...and then, as is the way of the world, it gets serious.  Now we are travelling at 35-40km/h - about the speed the Tour de France peleton travels all day. (That surprised me too, but it's on the internet so must be true.)

Each that can takes their turn at the front. Others cling on, as a peleton 'leach' (though, if you know the science, contributing nevertheless.) Some get dropped. Fall off the back of a peleton it's almost impossible to catch again. We arrive in Karditsa, our stop for tonight, and last evening together as a full group.

Tomorrow is a shorter day. But promises to be special.

[nuttynutninja]

To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first. - William Shakespeare "Enjoy your day - Free Stuff In my Bio"