F4 2/4 #festive500

After a tasty full Christmas lunch the clock was ticking and I had yet to ride back home. I'd like to think the lycra was no snugger despite the food, but I'd be mistaken. The weather was certainly smiling on me a little more though, with an absence of rain cheering the skies.
Cheering me up was the knowledge that the first 16 miles were going to pretty much be downhill, which is never a bad thing. After a short climb past the racecourse and through St Arvans I was on a roll back alongside the Wye.
Tintern Abbey is always photogenic and Christmas Day was no exception.

I once had a dream about getting married there and it flooding but it was all ok as the organ was inflatable.
I digress.
The water levels of the Wye had dropped a few feet though the water was still a murky silted brown as it washed along. I washed along beside it and it felt like the miles were flying by compared to the previous days final slog. Over the bridge again at Bigsweir and a nod up the hill to my friends at Cinderhill Farm up in St Briavels, no stopping in for tea and cake today sadly. I doubt there was room to fit it in alongside the turkey and pudding.
The roads had been very quiet and I had almost seen as many cyclists out as cars as I came towards Monmouth. The High Street was deserted save for a few people ambling out, no doubt walking off the lunch.

The skies were darkening now as the evening started to creep in and the decorative lights were providing illumination as I rolled down the street.
Out of Monmouth and back towards Raglan and there is a lovely old rail bridge, incongruous in the countryside, that sits there as an empty reminder of times past.

Where the bridge would have crossed the Wye it has been demolished so there is just the stone monument in the fields as a visual reference.
The run back from Raglan always seems to be a nice stretch. It's a mix of ups and downs with nothing too taxing, yet plenty to absorb. If the wind is in the right direction as you head past Llansoy it takes all the sounds away so it feels as though you are riding in complete silence, with only visual cues to your motion. Sadly today was not one of those days and instead it was just another piece of road.
Fully enveloped by evening I rode into Usk. I was beginning to wonder what would be for tea. Leftovers perhaps?
The decorative lighting was still up and shining brightly in the Twyn Square.

With a surprising spring in my legs Usk was passed through and over the bridge the eponymous river had also dropped in level. The biggest surprise though came as I arrived into my home village. There were several dark houses, one of which had the alarm loudly going off. I diverted to the Police house to let them know, but there was no answer behind the darkened door. Climbing the hill towards my road little differences made themselves known. The streetlights weren't on, highlighted by the apparent brightness of car headlights. Houses were slumped in darkness with the occasional bluey white glow of a screen or tree lights. On the final ride into my road there were no lights at all.
Aha, the penny finally dropped; a power cut.
Shame really as I needed a shower!
After half an hour of sorting out and lighting oil lamps and candles there was a clunk and the power came back on.
For five minutes.
Then back off.
Then back on and stayed on. Brilliant, I could shower and rest.

Floods, family, falls and failing; my #festive500 1/4

500 kilometers in 7 days, the challenge laid down by Rapha in their Festive 500 2013.
After jotting down some route plans in my head and then transferring to paper to check their accuracy it all seemed feasible. Thanks to a slipped disc that had been getting slowly worse throughout the year my riding had been tailing off and a cold and damp 100km the Sunday before had left me under no illusions that this would be hard, but I could do it.
The weather seemed to have other plans as the rains came, and came and the came some more. By the time I was looking to set off on Christmas Eve there were reports of roads closed and more flooding to come despite the now blue skies. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to make my destination for that day of Chepstow.
Sure enough the first river I crossed, the Usk, was in full flood.

,

But the road was clear and so was the sky.
On towards Raglan and with the wind picking up a little I noticed that the clear blue sky was being tainted by some dark clouds. This definitely wasn't on the plan.

I wondered if I my course would pass them by or if they would catch me. As I came towards Monmouth it was quite clear that yes, they were going to catch me. Discretion before valour and all that as I sought out a cafe to stop in to see the rain out.
It seemed as though the whole population of Monmouth High Street had the same plan as within moments of joining a queue for a brew there were more people queuing than already seated.
Sure enough though I got my coffee and Welsh cake.

The rain came and went and I was back out on the roads.
The A466 is a lovely road; it meanders as the River Wye does along the valley, snaking from one side to the other as it jumps between England and Wales. It also runs on a slight incline, and today I was going up it for the next 16 miles. The Wye too had been affected by the rains and although not flooding as heavily as it had in the past it was definitely pushing up.

I slowed at one point as I rode alongside to see the rough speed of the river. Somewhere around 15mph was my guess estimate and certainly fast enough that I wouldn't wish to paddle in it.
On over the bridge at Bigsweir and into the long, long climb to my destination of Chepstow. I was quietly congratulating myself at having avoided most of the rain and keeping dry on what was turning out to be a cold fresh day as I came through Tintern. With the light beginning to fade and a chill creeping into the wind I was glad I wasn't damp. I could see the road ahead had a good flow of water across it and noticed the sound of a car coming up from behind.
Oh they would wait, surely.
No, as I went through the flood, so did they overtake me and I was soaked from tip to toe.
Bollocks.
Best pick up the tempo then to generate some warmth. Out of the saddle on the last few long uphills that aren't actually very steep but just seem to drag on and on as the road winds around the cliff edges and woodlands. Thankfully it was soon downhill to St Arvans which meant not far at all from the destination. Whipping past the Racecourse as the sun was starting to drop below the hills casting long shadows as it went, I was as near as damn it done for the first day.

Windmills and Wild Garlic

It was a ride that was far more enjoyable than it had any right to be.
Riding the freshly built cyclocross bike on the roads, in rain and wind for a short 18 mile pedal. Somehow though the wind wasn't as bad as yesterday and the rain, whilst cold and penetrating was just part of the ambience. Even the draggy tyres just cushioned the road rather than intruding and feeling like a hindrance.

Out from Usk to meet with my mate Pete and his brother Tom, the scent of the wild garlic was strong in the wet air.
Llancayo windmill is a good landmark

and it as just past there that our paths coincided.
Back into Usk to make a nod to drying out in the rather pleasant Number Forty Nine cafe.
Home after that and perversely enjoying the feeling of tingling skin from the cold and rain. Short sleeves and arm warmers weren't the ideal attire and how is it that with waterproof boots all that happens is they keep the water in?

Water, water everywhere

Well you can't have missed the rain, if it's not falling from the sky it's on the news.
Anyway, here's a few pics of some of the local rivers.
First up the Usk.

Flowing quite well there isn't it?
Next up is a couple of shots of the Wye.
First of all upstream towards Redbrook-

Spot the large amounts of debris coming downstream. There were whole tree trunks and root balls.
Next is from the same spot but downstream towards Bigsweir-

Footpath? I'll take the boat thanks...
Now with all that water and some sun you generally get mist. No change this time and the Wye valley was a proper pea-souper-

Here's hoping some of that water hangs around and goes underground!