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By the start of December I found myself some temporary work for Royal Mail at their Gatwick sorting office. It was a minimum wage job but was fantastic when viewed as a paid workout. A stamina building bike commute of 30+ miles a day, followed by 8 hours shifting mail sacks, I lost weight and have never felt fitter.
The month started mild, wet and windy, typical British weather but as Christmas approached the winds swung to the East and the weather took on a distinctly chill quality.
The first snow arrived, with the sorting office cloaked in a mini blizzard. One of my co-workers had only arrived from Pakistan a few months previously and had never seen it before. I rode home through a couple of inches of fresh snow.
Heading home that evening, my hard wearing road tyres offered little purchase and I took a couple of nasty spills bending the crank on the second occasion. I was forced to ride home at a snail's pace with the crank knocking against the chainstay with every rotation.
Was this to be a portent of conditions to come?
The month started mild, wet and windy, typical British weather but as Christmas approached the winds swung to the East and the weather took on a distinctly chill quality.
The first snow arrived, with the sorting office cloaked in a mini blizzard. One of my co-workers had only arrived from Pakistan a few months previously and had never seen it before. I rode home through a couple of inches of fresh snow.
Heading home that evening, my hard wearing road tyres offered little purchase and I took a couple of nasty spills bending the crank on the second occasion. I was forced to ride home at a snail's pace with the crank knocking against the chainstay with every rotation.
Was this to be a portent of conditions to come?