As soon as there was space in the house the Turbo came in and my outdoor winter miles dropped significantly. With the advent of Zwift those miles became more enjoyable, as many have repeat “Outside is free….inside is warm”
There’s no two ways about it, I’m a fair weather cyclist, any of my team mates will tell you that. Don’t think for a second that means I don’t go out in the cold, wind and rain. Of the few really long rides I’ve done this autumn/winter I’ve been soaked through, so cold my hands stopped working and did 93 miles into a constant headwind. This definitely fits into the extreme end of type 2 fun, a grim sense of satisfaction that I’d made it.
Given the option though I’d always take my perfect conditions of 25C, brilliant blue skies and a tailwind the whole way. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth I took the brief gap between jobs to go and sun myself and escape and week of downpours in the U.K. Initially looking at Mallorca but then deciding that it wasn’t warm enough so I set my sights on the Canaries and having been to Gran Canaria and Tenerife I thought I’d try Lanzarote….not a choice I would regret!
For the next 5 days I had glorious sunshine and some of the smoothest tarmac I’ve ever had the pleasure to ride…it’s so good, most of the island is worthy of a Tour de France stage finish.
Thinking it was flat because it didn’t have a giant mountain in the middle was a mistake though….it’s not flat.
An old friend from Uni would have probably described it as “rolling” but then he would have described anything less than a hard day in the alps as rolling.
The roads generally went gently up or gently down with a few biggies to test the legs or your nerve…there were even some switchbacks to enjoy.
The wind was the only downside, the volcanic peaks funnelled the wind beautifully, it was a case of switching between barrelling along in the tailwind, leaning hard into the often terrifying crosswinds or grimacing into the headwind. you could forgive an English for wishing for his hedgerows to give a modicum of respite from being pushed left or right into the gutter.
In a final hurrah to top the week out with almost 300miles I did the closest approximation to a lap round the island I could manage. Carefully planning the route to give me almost 30miles home mostly downhill and definitely with a tail wind. Despite the slow and tiring miles into the headwind and up the gradual climbs that proceeded it cruising back almost averaging 20mph seemed quite respectable and a nice way to finish.
As I sit in the airport staring at my ridiculous tan lines and thinking fondly of the time here I look despairingly down at the piles of clothes in my hand luggage ready for the joys of British winter….