As I pedalled past the old wooden barn, the narrow road opened onto rolling green fields. Above the fields there were birds, and as the lane curved and climbed, I shifted down a couple of gears and got out of the saddle and saw deer in the field among the crops. They galloped for the copse at the top of the field, the road continued on under the cover of trees, and the yellow-brown leaves fell. I looked down at my speed and saw it was just 23km/h, and that was perfect.
Once I’d passed the trees, the road dipped and up ahead was a small stone church with its spire poking out of the surrounding trees. I saw it all.
Sean Russell writes about cycling for The Times and Sunday Times. He has a particular love for Strade Bianche, the monuments and the Giro d’Italia. He once spent the day in the neutral service car at Amstel Gold and rode up Alpe d’Huez the day before Tom Pidcock won there at the Tour de France. Russell was just 40 minutes slower…
There was a time when I would see another rider up ahead and they would become a target, so I would stomp on the pedals to catch them and to pass them and then continue on my way. There was a time when I would care more about the Strava segments and personal bests, and posting long winding routes with high average speeds and low average heart rates.
I would ignore the deer and the birds and the little churches. I would ride until I was empty and my legs were jelly. At some point, however, that stopped. I fell out of love with it and for a couple of years I barely rode at all.
Why do any of us start cycling? First, perhaps, comes necessity. I first rode my bike to get around, to go to my friends’ houses, to do my paper round and eventually to commute. But why do we take that next step and plot a route among the countryside with no other purpose than to pedal in one great loop?
For me, it was because I enjoyed being out on those lanes and seeing the things I saw along the way and stopping in the little villages for a coffee and a cake. I bought my first road bike, a B’Twin Triban 540 with Shimano 105, for about £700 with one real intention: to ride Britain’s narrow winding roads with my brother who had, by that point, been riding for years.