Shonky phone pic showing the end of the first commute. Proper pea-souper it was this morning which pushed any thoughts of how the bike rode behind “where the bloody hell is the road then?”
However, some implications of swapping from the Angel-Delight Boardman to the Iron-Bru Ribble are apparent. Firstly, a combination of a couple of kg weight difference and that insanely small rear cassette will likely be Making a Man of Me.
Or possibly an Internet Shopper looking to purchase a cassette with more teeth to make up for my less leg. Failing that, would a MTB block look out of place?
Mudguards are ace. Official. The hiss of road moistness being diverted down the shallow silver culvert is really quite gratifying. As are dry feet, and a bike the same colour at the end of the journey as the start.
The tyres are clearly remoulds from a Russian tractor and the saddle appears to be more in the Testicle “lift and separate” mould than providing much comfort for my arse, but otherwise we’re good to go for Winter.
With the caveat that the big climb at the end of the ride home can be dispatched without whimpering or walking.