Dwunk in charge of a mountain bicycle...

Two pub rides in two days. The first one was an 'alternative works do', me and my fellow home-working / sneaky mid-week riding buddy, a spin on freshly-dusted, freshly iced trails followed by a pub lunch and 'several' pints of Mr Scrooge. Pub rides are what ice tyres were invented for... You can't beat a meandering, crackling, giggling progress through a series of sheet-iced puddles...

 

 

Then yesterday, added tinsel to the Pig and headed out local like with the Glossop Youth Mountain Bike Project, a worthy effort intended to delinquentify local teenagers with the help of mountain bikes. A fantastic day with insane clouds, treacherous trails with fresh snow artfully camouflaging plates of black ice and cheery tinsellated company.

It all finished at the Sportsman in Hayfield for, erm, a pint or two of Santa's Sac - really - and lunch, before - you guessed it - a meandering solo, 'just two more hills and a bonus descent' progression home. Lessons: even ice tyres have their limits and the steps on Middle Moor are lethal under ice.

Tinsellated...

 

 

Hick...