The advent of British Summer Time is always a watershed in Chez Evans. At this time S emerges from her long winter hibernation, sans velo, and pulls on the leg warmers for the first of the Spring brevets. So, it was with this in mind that we set off for a 'maximum 30 miles' to Tavistock and back. It is educational to examine the consequences of lack of exactness in language here, in so far as the topography of the terrain was not specified . . . hence, my chosen route took us up to Dartmoor and turned off towards Milton Combe, thence up the back roads through Crapstone and onto Drake's trail, over the bridge and through the tunnel, to fetch up at Bob's East End cafe for an egg and bacon baguette.
Suitablly refreshed, we returned via the golf course. Now, regular readers will remember the occasion, several years ago in the Loire valley, when S contrived to bend the tooth of her middle chain ring by an injudicious change of gear at low speed. So, it was with a feeling of deja vu that I reflected on the fact that, in the intervening period, the miracles of syncromesh have not, as far as I am aware and certainly not in the Evans fleet, been extended to bicycle gears . . . needless to say, S completed the rest of the trip with the chain firmly ensconced on the small chainring. The other choice was the large, albeit still shiny and relatively unscuffed ring, but Sampford Spiney, Walkhampton, Yelverton, Clearbrook and Bickleigh were still to come. . .
Ca va.
