There’s a rhythm to our days. 0730 up. Breakfast at 0830. On the road by 0930. Normally riding as three until the first climb. At which point our grimpeur dances on his pedals and gradually fades away into the distance until lunchtime.. Today was no exception. Tank Commander Hinde and the Beast then fighting for second place. A long but steady undulating climb out of Monmouth and back into England. Our brief flirtation with Wales a distant memory by lunchtime. We rode through Herefordshire’s lanes, flanked by fields of oil seed rape, giving off their pungent scent, announcing summer is on the way.
It’s a much better smell than the one we left behind in the bathroom after curry night, I can tell you. Still haven’t had the call from our Air B&B hostess asking for compensation. Pleasant smells coming from the entrance to this pub though….
The flowers and fields gave way to the Shropshire Hills - a few gentle lumps, easily navigated. For thé Tickle Monster and me, it was lunch of eggs benedict at Mortimer’s Cross whilst the Tank Commander opted for a chippy dinner on the A49. Ah yes. Thé A49. Like a motorway but only as wide as my driveway. Bloody terrifying. This was a planning miscalculation and a half. Mine! Do not ever use this stretch of tarmac. Sorry guys. Normal service was resumed after 5 miles when we peeled off the main road into this…
Our first ford. Not too deep, and a welcome break from the traffic. Only 20 miles to Shrewsbury now, mostly on narrow lanes and mostly flat. And what delights await the Tickle Monster….
A long overdue facial and some hair removal. Never seen him looking happier. Replenished after his face and body MOT, this:
No wonder his complexion needs so much attention. Home tomorrow. But not before picking up a new saddle from the local Trek bike shop for the Beast. The rail snapped. Let’s hope Henry VIII didn‘t give them any lead to make it…..