It's not about the bike.....

Today was a cracker. The weather, company and coffee stop all combined to make it a cracker.

I set off from the house on my old bike, the blue one from the France photo, the spoke that was burst is still in the shop. The Fit One kindly told me that only Fat Gits burst spokes.......

Anyway met the guys at the usual road end - we set off in the sunshine up Knockhill. We had a full squad - the bigman, fit one and santiago. The Fit One wasn't feeling very fit - he'd been a bit moby dick on the way up to meet the boys but soldiered on regardless. The concluded view is that 3 weeks of intensive training has resulted in a bad bout of Overtraining. A few days rest will do him good.

As an aside a couple of the boys are off to Paris for the day tomorrow to watch Contador on his parade lap - they are going to have a great time! Personally I'm very jealous - I'll watch it on ra telly!

Anyway the route was agreed as being over Glendveon again to Auchterarder for coffee at Cafe Kriss. The climb through Glendevon was stunning. I use the word climb with caution given the alpine adventures of the bigman - it was a climb for the rest of us!

Santiago and the Fit One went off on one on the downhill and left myself and the bigman in there wake - the old bike was rattling down - I felt like Scotty on the Enterprise 'she can't take anymore!' as the old bike charged downhill....

The coffee stop was as good as ever - great cakes! We like a good cake!

Our return trip was great fun - the bigman and I led the climb up to Glendevon - it's not a difficult climb and we kept the speed up at 16mph most of the way up. I led the bottom section and the bigman took us to the top. A shake of hands as we crested the rise recognised a good effort.

At the top the fit one suggested a race to the hotel in Glendevon. The next few miles became a tactical battle. Would anyone go for it? How would the pelaton react? We pedalled a few miles waiting to see what was going to happen. Nobody was exactly certain where the hotel was so it was cat and mouse....

The number of houses started to increase. I drifted to the back of the pack. Dropped 10 yards off the back. The time was now, more and more houses, an old bike and my lack of sprinting ability. I decided to go for it. I wound it up, warp speed 2 was achieved and I cruised past the pelaton leaving bewildered cyclists in my slipstream. I had it. I could taste the victory. I'd left the pack and I was on the road to a momentous victory.

The next moment Santiago, crouching tiger hidden tri bars, flew past - it was like I wasn't pedalling. A second later the Bigman cruised by. My chance was gone. I was done. But then a chance, Santiago had missed the Sprint race announcement and slowed down. I was catching. More and more houses came to view.....

Bigman sensed the danger and moved ahead of Santiago but he was uncertain of how far to the hotel. I was catching by the second. The finish line just round the corner I knew I had a chance. I kicked hard on the pedals, sucking hard on the clean Glendevon oxygen and for the second time felt the whiff of victory in my nostrils. I was there. Then the 'shadow' appeared. Small to start with but quickly darkening the bright sunshine.

In a streak of yellow he went past, I was spent, nothing to give, he was gone. Gutted.

Victory for the bigman.

It was great! The race was fab. I was on my old bike but don't think it made a difference to the outcome of our race - it's not about the bike it's about sheer leg strength and the bigman is in good shape. I'm on his tail though......

The trip home was straightforward. Bigman blitzed Knockhill - showing his true climbing prowess - he is a machine. I cut off to Saline and was home.

It was truly a grand day out.......