Bear blog

We went for a quick jaunt round Carsington Reservoir on Sunday with Stu. It was the most abismally unpleasant and displeasing ride I've ever been on. And I wasn't even on a unicycle.

 

I thought reservoirs were meant to be flat. This one decidedly wasn't. We started off along a long open stretch of path that ran along the side of a wide expanse of jaggedy looking rocks leading down into the water. And it was windy. Windy enough for me to fear the expanse of jaggedy rocks, at any rate.

 

But having fought our way through the side-winds we got to the end of

the path. A bit of snappy-snappy camera action and then we were off again. And it was fine. For the first minute or two. Before the hills got us.

 

We were outnumbered. They were everywhere and we had nowhere to hide. Our only option was to carry on straight into their ranks. They made me their bitch. The rest of the ride was spent panting, wheezing and complaining in turns.  The unicyclists, meanwhile, were doing very well. P in particular was just cruising up and down without really stopping for breath. Oh he of the gigantic manly thighs. 

 

Just before we got halfway round Stu, Lizzy and I stopped for a geocache. It was my first one. We had to trudge through a bit of brackeny undergrowth to find it but it was shiny and filled with goodness. Lizzy left a lizard puzzle and a porcelain duck. We took a peg and Stu took the travel bug. I've decided geocaching is a good way to periodically get rid of all the tat that builds up in the house.  

 

After that it was back on the road. Alan was feeling rough and was worried that his car was going to get rained on so we bikey ones raced off ahead and left the others to their own devices. They eventually appeared back at the visitors centre, slightly sweaty and worse for wear, but not before we'd sat down to chocolate and chips and had to put up with hordes of screaming middle class children. Shudder.

 

We stopped off at the Knockerdown for a pub lunch before heading home. Alan gave up at that point and returned to his sick bed. The rest of us chowed down. P ate about three pounds of meat, Lizzy paid for an £8 meal with a £10 note and got £6.10 change from it. I had steak and chips. Nyum nyums.

 

I'm never going back to Carsington again. It's a horrible place designed for fit and active people.