Last night I picked up Mrs Rouleurs uncles mountain bike to use for a couple of days for one or two ‘I O U’ rides.

Tires pumped and saddle lowered (Uncle Rouleur is at least 6ft 5in, I am 5ft 9in!), I started to plan my route. From my In-Laws I planned a ride along a gravel path and then up into the Harz mountains, heading for the Josefkreuz (a large iron cross that you can climb, that itself sits at the top of a mountain!), and then back via a lovely winding descent down a mountain road, 25-30k all told and not a bad little ride.

I thought perhaps 2 hours in total and so took just a little water bottle and one gel, and with the words ‘it will be a walk in the park’ ringing in Mrs Rouleurs ears I set off.

A fast and furious 7km down the gravel path led me to the outskirts of Stolberg, a wonderfully quaint little town, and then under a railway line I hit the first climb. Now I have mentioned how in recent days I have ridden climbs that just keep going well I was lying, nothing went on like this one. For approximately 7km I climbed a fairly steep gravel path heading always up into the mountain. Two short stops to catch my breath and regain my cool (it was 24⁰C before 10.30am) and the path levelled out to a less severe gradient, though ever upwards.

I rejected a couple of shorter routes to the top and instead hit the road and the longer route via the main paved path, a few steep sectors and I arrived. Unsurprisingly given the temperature it was first stop drink shack for much needed fluids. Then a crossroads, given my extreme fear of heights do I climb the cross or don’t I. I opted for the climb but couldn’t make it further than half way. (FYI I have been to the top before when the temperature was a slightly cooler -18^oC).

The descent from the summit was fast and fun and brought me to my next decision. My father-in-Rouleur had mentioned a fantastic butchers that sold very tasty Bratwurst but this would mean a 6km detour. Not one to shy away from a few more km and more importantly from the promise of good bratwurst I found myself in Hayn. Two Bratwurst with Garlic, and three without later, I hit the main descent back down.

This was fun for sure but I can’t help thinking with a road bike and a helmet I could have taken the road down as it deserved but hey it was still great. A very short detour for road works and I arrived home inside 2hours 30mins much to the surprise of Mrs Rouleur and her dad, who both had no faith in my legs or my map reading, though I did eat my earlier words about how easy it would be.

A day off tomorrow to rest a slightly aching knee, and then on to more climbs on Sunday. Until then, I think I just heard an ice cream man!!