Fear and loathing in Little Whinging

All I can hear, far away in a distant place, seemingly removed several times from my own psyche, is a low groan punctuated with a kind of strained whimper.

I can't see anything - certainly not with any clarity. My vision has become acutely distorted by a deluge of sweat combined with a heavy dusting of midwinter drizzle.

This serves not only to impair my sight but also to add to the snowballing pain which now envelopes the entirety of my person.

Both mentally and physically I am absolutely fucking devastated. I feel like my thighs are harbouring the entire Lebanese faction of ISIS. Surely they're about to shatter. Surely they are on the threshold of splitting into a million sharp and tiny shards?

I can't do this for much longer - a lucid thought at last.

The thought gives me hope. It lets me know I'm in control, that I'm the fucking boss here.

But I'm not. This hill is. And currently, at this moment in time, this innocuous contour, this ruck in the sprawling rug of rural Surrey is all-powerful, all-consuming, all a tremendous pain in the arse.

But why? Why would I pit myself against an ascent which should be stood in The Hague up on charges of crimes against humanity?

Why (oh fucking why) did I step out of the front door this morning, clad in ill-fitting cycling fatigues, and hasten to the hills? The sun hasn't shone in months now - although admittedly it did make a fleeting appearance one afternoon in late November - so what is the attraction? Why couple getting drenched in sweat and drizzle with acute pain and suffering?

I'm now - as far as I can make out - less than 100 metres to the summit. The road has considerably ramped up and I'm struggling to draw breath into my lungs. Somebody, another cyclist, flies past on his way down, offering a "morning" as he goes by. I just about manage not to puke in acknowledgement, and instead offer up a sort of sob-cum-grunt.

The pain mitigates, the white noise subsides, I breath easier, my vision returns - a wave of transcendent joy and vitality now surges over me.

I look down, swigging theatrically from my water bottle as I inspect my handiwork... and steadily pedal on to the next one...

Ground into submission.

https://teakdoor.com/images/imported/2015/12/1263.jpg

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

sob-cum-grunt

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Your new nic for 2016?

:D

I think it ruddy well could be, you know!

A latter day "True Grit". At least your horse didn't die. ;)

Good bit of writing Slaps it puts me in mind of this time I tried mounting this really fat chick half way to Glastonbury Tor, had she been four stone lighter we might have made it all the way?

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

The road has considerably ramped up

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The maximum elevation of the so called hills is a whopping 290 metres above sea level.
I presume you didn't start at sea level, so you climbed a couple of hundred metres and were practically dead.

I applaud your effort and great stamina. :rofl:

(Are you sure you rode all the way up to Scotchland?)

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

All I can hear, far away in a distant place, seemingly removed several times from my own psyche, is a low groan punctuated with a kind of strained whimper.

I can't see anything - certainly not with any clarity. My vision has become acutely distorted by a deluge of sweat combined with a heavy dusting of midwinter drizzle.

This serves not only to impair my sight but also to add to the snowballing pain which now envelopes the entirety of my person.

Both mentally and physically I am absolutely fucking devastated.

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After reading that far I was thinking you had found a secret stash of lau kow ........ disappointed to see it was about a bike ride.

If Slap ever writes "this moment in time " ever again, unless it is dripping in the heaviest of irony, he might as well take up window cleaning.

What the fuck is wrong in saying "now" or "presently " etc?

Also, less is more.

A somewhat improved style, some might say. The instantaneous kick from his previous works is in danger of evaporating now he is ensconced in his new centrally heated Chelsea penthouse. With the recent arrival of his family there may be a pause from the original Sontam style, only time will tell.

As to the fucking hill, for fuck sakes it's Tarmaced. Try a jungle trial, boulders, ditches, rivers, spiky Bamboo, 1:1 ups and downs, slippery red clay and wild elephants.


Have you forgotten your roots matey? Por will be laughing into his Kao Lao.

Note: there appears to be an alternative definition of Tarmacing.

It can be found here, by the curious:

http://www.urbandictionary.com/defin...term=tarmacing

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Originally Posted by nidhogg

After reading that far I was thinking you had found a secret stash of lau kow ........

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I was thinking much the same thing, waking up after 3 days on that stuff. It is the silly season after all.

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Originally Posted by chassamui

At least your horse didn't die.

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But alas, I've woken up this morning to a slow puncture, and a lack of any kind of motivation to mend it.

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Originally Posted by Stinky

puts me in mind of this time I tried mounting this really fat chick half way to Glastonbury Tor, had she been four stone lighter we might have made it all the way?

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I think I can see you, Stinkster - up there on the brow, attempting to get thine leg over...

https://teakdoor.com/images/imported/2015/08/1104.jpg
(authentic Slap photography)

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Originally Posted by withnallstoke

The maximum elevation of the so called hills is a whopping 290 metres above sea level.

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Yes, I'd expected this. But you see Withnall, it's not about elevation in Surrey - it's about gradient. 25 per cent in some places. Do you understand what I'm talking about here, Withnall. 25 per cent. That's what the French call a Muy...

Any road up - regard... 37 miles, close to 3000 ft of climbing.

https://teakdoor.com/images/imported/2015/12/1290.jpg

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Originally Posted by nidhogg

After reading that far I was thinking you had found a secret stash of lau kow

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It's certainly applies to both. Oh how I miss the hallowed brew, so very, very dearly.

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Originally Posted by Seekingasylum

If Slap ever writes "this moment in time " ever again, unless it is dripping in the heaviest of irony, he might as well take up window cleaning.

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Just stocking up on chamois - at this very moment in time :D

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Originally Posted by OhOh

Have you forgotten your roots matey?

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Never! There's a balcony out there in the wilds of Isaan waiting patiently for my return.

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Originally Posted by kingwilly

waking up after 3 days on that stuff.

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A three-day LK binge? It's happened before. Withnall cut his own hair off with a pair of kitchen scissors.

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

Do you understand what I'm talking about here, Withnall. 25 per cent.

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The gradient can be bastard vertical if it likes. If it's only 2 foot long, a one legged cripple could hop up it.

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

A three-day LK binge? It's happened before. Withnall cut his own hair off with a pair of kitchen scissors.

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With a little encouragement from a drunken "mate". :)

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Originally Posted by withnallstoke

With a little encouragement from a drunken "mate

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It was an extremely messy experience. My head still aches from the fucker.

A much better style allegedly, keep it short and too a point.

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

The thought gives me hope. It lets me know I'm in control, that I'm the fucking boss here.

But I'm not. This hill is,

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Can i give you a tip somtam,, whenever you do the hills, to blot out thought negs.
count from 1 to 100 and see how that goes.
Then go to Yunnan and ride the 214 up o dali.

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Originally Posted by billy the kid

count from 1 to 100 and see how that goes.

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I get to about four before losing count.

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Originally Posted by billy the kid

Then go to Yunnan and ride the 214 up o dali.

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Planning a trip to the alps next year. It should be suitably horrible.

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Originally Posted by somtamslap

I get to about four before losing count.

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then go back to 1 :).

try and get to 5.

yea the legs will scream at you to stop
its one of the hardest tasks
blotting the negs. more than halves the pain.
and the pains will move around the body
telling you where you have a weakness.

^+^^

Fukkin Masochists

no gain without some pain Dill.
your energy can take you around the planet on a bike. amazin highs, risks.

Looking up at a hill climb can fill the head with fear. to overcome. :chitown:

Weird?...

^ no not weird, amazing. really.

money in your back pocket and as much time as you need. not knowing what's around the corner.
and no mapped out realities. whoopi.

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Originally Posted by billy the kid

^ no not weird, amazing. really.

money in your back pocket and as much time as you need. not knowing what's around the corner.
and no mapped out realities. whoopi.

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Indeed; cycle touring is one of the best rushes ever, maybe the best because it stays with you.

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Originally Posted by Mr Earl

maybe the best because it stays with you.

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So does chlamydia ....

[QUOTE=somtamslap;3170950]

Just stocking up on chamois - at this very moment in time :D

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Originally Posted by OhOh

Have you forgotten your roots matey?

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I wonder if anyone's heard anything from Betty of late?

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Originally Posted by CSFFan

So does chlamydia .

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which memory would you prefer ?

Slap, counting from 1 -100 keeps the mind occupied and frees it from most negative thinking.
The last 100 - 50 metres of any climb is always the toughest.