Ride Sixteen around the back of the mountains

Battle commenced early. At Dawn I was up and ready to attack the mountains again. I call them  ''hills' now since my thighs have reverted back to Olympic Cycle God  status! Kitted up in full Bianchi battle dress I advanced steadily along the coastal road and headed left inland towards the lower end of the Mountain range here, and the pass up and over to the dark side, the Northern coast.

The usually empty coastal road was busier than I had seen it before. This was rush hour Cyprus style. The six cars rushed around at speeds of up to 40 mph , the three builders vans drove around like English White Van Man, as they rushed to build more houses they would never finish.

 The wind was freshening from the East as ever here and I was instantly down on the aero bars again. I was pleased I had decided to bring them and lie to easy jet about my weight!

As I rode along my mind reverted to it's default mode on a bike, that of total emptiness and peace. All the rubbish that gets stored in the mind, mostly due to the actions of others, my own indecision and general life crap, left my head as I sunk myself into the ride. The wind, the trees, wild flowers, the people, even the bloody goats, were all perfect to my mind as I rode along in my own 'present'.

The climb started gradually for a change and as it did the wind changed to defend the Mountains entrenched position against my full frontal attack. I shouted at the wind and reassured Celeste that there was no doubt whatsoever that we would win this battle. We had conquered the biggest Mountain on this wonderful island and won, so this would be a piece of cake. It was. we cruised up the mountain pass on a perfect road surface, even with a headwind. I suspected this was a result of my ever improving relationship with Cyclops.

The downhill the other side was a wonderful roller coaster ride with some wonderful views down to the Northern coastline. It was cooler on this side of the island as I could see the clouds being blown by a strong onshore wind from the North East. I shot down that hill as a rate of knots totally convinced this was the start of another 104+ mile ride. The plan was to ride the same loop I had to Girne the other day the other way around. Best laid plans and all that.

Cyclops had other plans for me. Just as the descent levelled off  I heard the gut wrenching and by now, all to familiar, sound of a rear drive side spoke breaking. I gently offered up a few wel chosen words of  profanity  and told myself this was the start of a better direction in my life. Even broken spokes happen for a reason, although at that moment I had absolutely no idea what that might be. Had it happened on top of the Pass I could have ridden back down safely. As it was I had no choice but to continue the ride. Riding with a broken rear spoke inevitably meant a wonky wheel, This meant I had to loosen off my rear brakes to allow the wheel to turn. This meant I was effectively riding with no rear brakes on the flat, and having to tighten them back up a little on the downhills to avoid a potentially embarrassing near death experience.

I was presented with a decision. I had no phone signal so calling international rescue wasn't an option. Besides Scott Tracey was out. I ride alone and without any support vehicle (unlike those 'light weights in the Tour de France eh!). Between me and a roof over my head tonight was climb of about 650m up a mountain. The alternative climbs were of a slightly lower height but further along the original ride route. I took the decision instantly, I would chance my rear wheel on the steep climb out of Kaplica again. It was the most direct route back, I had ridden the climb several times this trip already and I knew a cold can of coca cola awaited me at the top.

I taped up the spoke to stop it clanging all the way up and launched myself and Celeste up the short sharp incline that is downtown Kaplica. Celeste groaned in agony as the weakened rear wheel took the strain. I ignored her pitiful whining, gave her a slap and told her to Woman the F%ck up. Luckily for her she did as she was told.

There be cows in Kaplica, and where there be cows there be cow shit. Where there be cow shit there be cow shit flies, thousands of them launched a full on assault on my head as I ground my way up and out of the village.

The switchbacks I now know so well had us both suffering at about 9/10 on the agony scale. Celeste continued her whining like only a woman can, something about me eating too much Pizza last night. I continued telling her she could do it, because she was better than any other bike. Between us we got to the top slowly but surely. The rear wheel was now showing real danger signs as it was a lot more out of true than it had been way down there in Kaplica.

At the top I stopped for my guaranteed ice cold can of coke. The cafe was shut (yes Ladies I know it served me right). I had another word with Cyclops and took a little look around the square there. Cyclops was in his deviant mood today for sure. He had  arranged for a white van proudly displaying the tell tale signs of a bicycle mechanic strategically parked for me to see. He had also arranged for it's owner to have disappeared in a cloud of green smoke for eternity. The place was deserted. The Gods can be cruel at times.

With the sound of Cyclops' laughter ringing in my ears I pointed Celeste along the top of the Mountain road, checked her rear brakes and we set off along the top. Celeste was full of herself now, just like a woman who couldn't do it but did it, she was riding with confidence again. We took a break near the edge of a sheer drop and I had Celeste pose for a photo shoot right next to the edge. There she stood in her full beauty, right on the edge of the world while I took a few pictures.

She was still posing away when Stephan arrived.

Stephan was riding up the climb from the other side on a Felt Carbon bling machine. This was the first true roadie I had seen in Northern Cyprus. He kindly stopped for a chat and we took photographs of our epic meeting on top of the mountain. Cyclops wasn't such a pain in the arse after all.

Stephan is part of a  German bike outfit on the Southern side of the island and we had a good chat. Good things were happening. This was why my spoke broke. This was why I took the decision to cut the ride short and climb up through Kaplica.

I'd forgotten about Celeste and her complaining. I heard her final whine as she fell off the cliff and fell down a very steep embankment and came to rest in a thorny bush. I took a deep breath, prepared myself for the full fury of a woman scorned and went to her rescue. Taking my life in my hands to save her I dragged her back up, all the time telling her to stop looking down and for Christs sake stop blaming me. This was of course Cyclops' fault, not mine.

Miracles do occur, there were no more broken spokes. Had there been I would have been walking home, no doubt with a serious ear bashing from a broken Bianchi, who if I am honest deserved better.

The ride down was fun as ever, but this time I had only front brakes to prevent me from ending up in a pile of goat dung somewhere. I wondered  if goat shit flies tasted as bad a cow shit flies.

Taking extra care for at least a minute I commenced the descent. Sixty seconds in I decided life was too short for caution and let go of the front brake having decided nothing bad was going to happen. It didn't. I shot down the 'hill' missing two cars coming up, both driving inexplicably on the wrong side of the solid white line. Let me correct that, I can explain why. Both drivers were selfish moronic idiots with no respect for life.

Once back down on the plain I picked up a tail wind.

I had the red tractor in my sights now, nothing could stop me from catching him up and blitzing him. I was doing 36 mph when I over took him, and at that same moment a white car over took me with it's passenger yelling out the window. One second later it would have been safe to pass. I guess then I wouldn't have been able to hear her, no doubt, considered and educated comment eh!

I was down on the aero bars with a good tailwind and a flat road, the tractor had no chance. I then overtook the idiot white car driver and gave her a huge smile, smiles can say many things!

Back in Iskele life was ticking by,  the local builders were still hard at it as they had been at 7am, some tourists had even made it out of bed to the sunbeds. I rode up to the apartment, and made my breakfast.

41 miles (ride cut short by Cyclops)
Max speed 41.8mph
Total ascent 1054m

P.s.
No Video today as my Hedcam drowned in the sea yesterday. However the very nice peeps at www.hedcams.com have said they will take a look and fix it when I get back to the UK.


Tonight I'm looking at this after a Sauna,jacuzzi and a Swim. What more could a cyclist need?