Panic One

Spent all last night after my ride, except for about an hour, getting ready for the weekend away. Really bad night’s sleep, eventually being woken up this morning at 4.30 and then laid in bed waiting for the alarm at 6.30. Next thing I know I wake up at 7am. Holy crap must have dozed off and when setting the alarm last night I’d turned it off by accident. Move into emergency panic mode, dressed, packed and on the bike within 5 minutes. Cane it to work on the road bike jumping all the lights. Get changed and the haul bike bag deposited in the office last night to Piccadilly Station. Get 7.30 train to Airport. It’s an express, so it only takes 20 minutes. Find trolley. Throw on bike bag and push it through to T1 like Lewis Hamilton on a charge through the field. Get to check-in, eventually. Absolutely no one waiting. Bit worried now. Speak to the girl behind, the desk:

“Hi I’m here for the Guernsey flight, but I’m afraid that I’m a bit late?”
“Yeah, sorry”
“Oh no, you’re here in plenty of time!”

Panic over! It was just a quick hour flight to Guernsey from Manchester. Sketchy landing, but quickly through the airport and picked up the hire car, which turns out to be abrand new Ford Focus Zetec. Fired it up and then headed off towards Pleinmont. Had a quick walk around up near the motocross track and then drove down to Portelet and parked up. Re-assembled the bike and then rode out taking in all the old routes via L’Eree, Vazon, the Guet, various green lanes through the interior valleys, down to Moulin Huet up and out and along the coast back to Pleinmont before getting back to the car about 2 hours later. Great to be out exploring the old routes once again and I found probably the only break in the weather all day so managed notto get soaked through and even saw blue skies once or twice.

Author: Cris Bloomfield

Usually mountain biking in the North.

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