Saturday morning and it was Global Fat Bike Day.
Realistically I think the passing of Nelson Mandella or the commemoration of the attack on Pearl Harbour means more to the population of the world than the bumblings of balloon tyred bicycles. But I made the effort and went for a pedal on a dreich winter morning.
Coastkid had been rounding up the troops for a beach ride at North Berwick which sounded good, but unfortunately I had other commitments. Instead, I had my own little fat bike outing along the east beach at Dunbar.
First stop was to check the wooden chocks under the Heron. The tidal surge was pretty high on Thursday and the coast took a real battering. Fortunately, everything seems secure, so it was on through the winding streets to the beach.
The red sandstone of the pends and closes is typical of the old buildings of Dunbar.
I picked a route through the rock and seaweed out onto the sands near the golf course. This sort of riding takes a fair bit of concentration, and effort. There was lots of slow, standing up, half pedal work. Mostly I just concentrated on keeping my balance with the background noise of the last of the week's storm spending itself on the shore. There was the occasional dog walker but mostly the coast seemed empty.
There was plenty bid life though. Rock Pipits and Pied Wagtails searched through the storm washed kelp for sand hoppers and Red Shanks scurried back and forth between the crash of the waves.
Fly kept busy collecting pieces of kelp.
I set out pedalling before 9am as I knew I had to be home by 11am. I only just made it. It is so easy to lose myself on the Fatty, just playing around, finding routes, straining muscles I had forgotten I had. The fun of owning one of these bikes is like being a kid again, and that's no bad thing. Despite the suggestions on the Fat Bike Forums, I didn't find today "insane". Maybe that was because I was out riding and not sitting in front of a computer dreaming. Forums- pah.