routes

I came out for exercise, gentle exercise and to notice the scenery and to botanise. And no sooner do I get on that accursed machine than off I go hammer and tongs; I never look to right or left, never notice a flower, never see a view – get hot, juicy, red – like a grilled chop. Get me on that machine and I have to go. I go scorching along the road and cursing aloud at myself for doing it

Let a man find himself, in distinction from others, on top of two wheels with a chain – at least in a poor country like Russia – and his vanity begins to swell out like his tyres

(Responding to criticism for learning to ride a bicycle at 67 years old) – I feel that I am entitled to my share of lightheartedness and there is nothing wrong with enjoying oneself simply, like a boy

Here’s the routine I’d advise for the evening before a race: a pheasant with chestnuts, a bottle of champagne and a woman

After your first day of cycling, one dream is inevitable.  A memory of motion lingers in the muscles of your legs, and round and round they seem to go.  You ride through Dreamland on wonderful dream bicycles that change and grow

If I can bicycle, I bicycle

When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking

I thought of that while riding my bicycle