Eastbourne of Eden

March 19, 2015

I have often said that the thing I like most about road cycling as opposed to any other form of sport is that your ride starts and ends at your own front door. After travelling to South Wales for the first leg of my attempted Dodecaudax, I was happy to make my house the start point for the second part. The advantages were: not having to get up at 5 a.m., having a luggage-free bike, and having pre-ride breakfast in my own kitchen after feeding my own cat.

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Start heading out from Cove, looking for Redmoss Road. Uphill, into the wind. Don’t work too hard. Roadworks. Try the nearside pavement. It’s blocked off. Cross over. There’s a grass verge. There’s a man walking a Labrador, too. He’s seen us, he stops. The dog is on a lead and well-behaved. Strange to see roadmenders at work on a Sunday. Must be a gas main or something important. They rarely mind cyclists, usually nod, wave, or smile, are surprisingly happy to get out of the way. I suppose it lets them stop working for a few seconds and breaks the monotony. I feel bad that they’re working and I’m out having fun, but they never seem to care.

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