When mates slow you down - warning: magic mushroom content.

All week I've been solo. Done 95 miles on my tod, not always through choice, but last night AD decided to come out to play, bringing my weekly total up to around 120 off road miles. That's about 37,000km. I think. Not bad? I'm happy with it, especially as last night was so warm. The trails have still to fully dry out, but there was an awful lot of dusty gravel to catch us out.

On the way up [past the Reigate Roulier sportive signs] to meet AD on Reigate Hill I spotted some fungi by the side of the trail, and was so impressed I took the image below. I think you'll agree they're impressive. That's a large Urge helmet right next to them for comparison. Probably covered in toxic spores now. Later on, whilst marking territory, my wee break was taken standing amidst possibly 200 magic mushrooms. The things you spot out and about eh? Naturally as impressionable youths read this I'll not say where the magic's are, but there was a very healthy crop indeed. Enough for a decent party I'd say.

So, moaning, how did we do? We were both in a positive mood, and happy to be out, but events do try. For one I decided to go light and just take the bike out. No repair kit, no 'phone, no fluids. We are well served with pubs, so why not visit one or two? So moan number one being that AD came out on a night ride without any money. I think in some parts of Alaska or New York state it is still legal to tie such individuals to stakes over red ant nests, so he got off lightly. Luckily I'd a £10 note in my pocket so pub it was. Naturally AD stated he was hungry, so could I buy him food? Spit on your grave more like. Anyway, I ordered a pop for the boy, a beer for me and a packet of peanuts. The barman took my £10 and came back with 5p. Since when has one lemonade, one beer and some rancid nuts been £10 out in the sticks? I was slightly shocked as had expected to be able to buy myself another cheeky half at the very least.

To be fair AD walked in to the tail end of something else and I got the hump. At work, thanks to childcare issues and austerity measures, plus a measure of not actually wanting to be there, I only work three days out of five. Yet the full-time staff will happily steal my coffee and admit to it, borrow my 'phone charger, and to a man are either the last people into cafes, walking in just as I put an order in, or stand there patting their pockets. They really are nothing more than tight fisted wankers aren't they? Beats me how people have the gall to do such things, and they genuinely wonder why I think so little of them and avoid their company as much as possible.

Moan number two also considered AD as the main plot member, this time defo his fault so he has to suck this one up. We were both out on suspension bikes, the trails were bone dry, so why was AD so slow going downhill? I first noticed it on Stane Street, near the double jump at Lord Beaverbrook's Cherkley Court [where we'd stopped to admire the new rich people's golf course being built*]. Normally we hit this pretty fast**, but in lining up for it I had to brake quite hard to avoid jumping into the back of him. Just figured he was slow. Same on another downhill, and I passed comment as to why; not like him to miss an opportunity to hoon. AD put it down to rusted out bearings, which seemed reasonable seeing as how he's had that before - his bottom bracket bearings were rusted solid once. Yet at home I had a look at his bike. Rear brake boiling hot, not right that. So we faffed with centering the calliper but it was too hot to do properly. The pistons probably need pushing back in a tad. Not AD's fault as he has the hybrid Avid 4 bastards, but I'll not let that get in the way of slagging him off now will I? Keep schtum and have a happy friendship, or slag him off in a blog for all to read? Well......

The ride was a fast one. Reigate to Headley was dispatched in under 15 minutes, a ride that can take twice that in the winter. Seeing as how fast the trails were, the chalk path was a given. Wow! That was insane, it really was. AD was slow at the top thanks to his brakes, but I wasn't, especially as how he'd not done his normal "mind fuck" on me. Without fail he goes through the gate and goes "whoa, slippy here, best watch out" just as he puts the hammer down. It always works on me, always. I look down, tense up and bimble my way down the trail. Going into the left hand corner I let him take a few metres as running as a pair is silly, but matched his speed down the final rutted section. He was running way low and back, his arse more or less kissing the tyre, and I could see both wheels skipping. Well until all vision was lost and I just had a blur of whiteness to follow. At the end it was high five's all 'round and AD confessed that even he couldn't see.

What a blast. Get out there people.

*And whilst there the landowner came over and informed us that once the really, really rich but fat people start to use the new leisure facilities, then dirty, smelly mountain bikers like us will be fair game for those patrons a bit bored of mere clay pigeon shoots on the hillside. Being dirty, smelly urban émigrés we doffed our hats and accepted our future fate. But as I am from the lower classes anyway I offered to gut and hang AD there and then. Hail the instinctive survival instincts of us plebs I say.

**Fast being a relative term. AD is well into his 50's whilst I'm approaching that milestone. Our fast, in other words, is your slow.