Climbing

Pursuits

In

Cornwall………….

Having spend the best part of 6 months promising a wild and uplifting article about my trip to Nepal over Christmas, I've finally succumbed to an urgent request from Pete and decided to focus on an activity which I can actually remember.

It was a wild weekend in Cornwall over the August bank holiday weekend, the mists rolled away mid-morning to reveal inviting glistening granite. Having spent a day keeping a tentative hold on the rock at Bosigran whilst basking sharks circled below (apparently plankton eaters, but I wasn't going to test that out) and a day of 'severe' climbing with Pete and Louise at Sennen, completing a record breaking 5 routes with only time for one sandwich between climbs, I opted for the more 'leisurely' option of a cycle ride.

My invitation came from 3 young ladies (Ange, Sarah and Laura) who declared it would be fun to cycle to Mousehole for a spot of lunch and to melt in the sun like ice-cream. Never one to pass up such a gracious offer I commandeered Martin's racing bike, and after an hour of tyre pumping and general adjustment, I conceded to ride with my nose scraping the ground and in the highest gear available.

We set out at a pace (well Ange with her 'granny gears' and Sarah with her portable pace-setter Laura) and I gracefully walked my bike up the most challenging hills. Grateful for a stop after and hour or so, we parted company from our bikes at the Merry Maidens (appropriately named for us), a standing stone circle. I was initially overcome with an urge to consume some jam sandwiches whilst Sarah and Laura ran weaving between the stones. After satisfying my initial urges, I proceeded to consummate the site with a cartwheel in the centre.- an appropriate ceremony only held at the most profane sites. On sighting a group of fat tourists with a guide we headed back to the bikes to feel the wind in our hair (and in my case the razor sharp saddle).

We were temporarily distracted in our pursuit for Mousehole by the Lamorna Wink pub where we soaked up the local ambience and watched the clouds gathering. Our ride into Mousehole was exhilarating, with the gradient finally in our favour, Ange demonstrating that not only boys can ride with no hands (and theorising on how indeed boys achieve this: hint - it involves a cross bar) and Sarah proceeding cautiously with the 3 stone added weight on the back and distinct lack of brakes.

Mousehole provided us with some retail therapy (we all now sport some bead bracelets) and of course the ubiquitous icecream. Sadly I had to leave the terrible trio on the beach to journey onward in the fading afternoon sun to rendezvous with my lift. An enjoyable 'alternative' day was had and the memories of the bike remained with my seat area for some days to come, chased away only by muscle fatigue from that most hated of DIY chores - sanding the floor boards……………..

Mary