A low-traffic pootle around Brum in the presence of the lovely Jools Walker and the now legendary Ayesha McGowan. "Suitable for any bike" they said. "You should bring a recumbent" said nikki OTP (who is a bad influence), so I did
[1]. Cue a whistle-stop tour of all my least-favourite steep slopes, blind bend canal bridges and knobbly bricks, with a little bit of wheeling ramp thrown in for good measure. Cameo by the Aston ASBO Geese, who couldn't really be arsed. A sufficiency of tragic hipster coffee and a positive excess of
CAKE in a Harborne cafe that I've ridden past several times and somehow failed to notice. Several impromptu demonstrations of freeride 5K|11z by our resident mountain biking expert, who had found someone else to be a bad influence on by this point. Failure to ride along some of Birmingham's premier Definitely Not Open Yet cycle infrastructure, which was infested by stern-looking lumberjacks in yellow hi-vis, so we made do with riding along some of Birmingham's premier shared-use bollocks instead. And to finish it off, some of Digbeth's finest smells.
Spent a good chunk of the afternoon having a comprehensive chat about unusually-shaped bikes and inclusive cycling with a couple of people from the ride, and sustaining a mysteriously bleedy toe injury on a chair with no sharp edges (I can only conclude that's why it's called the Impact Hub). I'd worried that SPD sandals might be a mistake, but I was thinking more along the lines of nettle entanglement or goose attack.
Also, for completeness, hayfever is being a right bastard.
I've basically got nothing I was meant to be doing done today, because cycling.
[1] No, not that one[2].
[2] Thankfully not that one, either.