… and it’s goodnight from me. That’s my Bro on his brand spanking new Carbon-fangled Spesh whatsit with added widgets. I’ve cut through some of the marketing nonsense there.
We managed to fit in a cracking ride from deep on Dartmoor sandwiched between the old Tin Railway and the rather foreboding prison at Princetown. Much needed after the thick end of six hours of our lives were lost in a traffic jam stretching from Swindon to Taunton.
Dry, warm (after a chilly knee knocking start) and properly absorbing in the grin inducing, rocky sections. As usual, my woeful under-preparation supplied a bike with sufficient air in the fork spring for a man half my size, and a wheel bearing long since separated from any lubrication.
No matter, still great to sneak out on unridden trails between body-boarding, beach combing, a pasty appreciation tour and much other good humoured family stuff. I was rubbish at most of these things, more whale than shark in a wet suit but awesome in the pasties – brave, committed and enduringly stoic in the face of many and interesting varieties. “Duck and Plum Sauce Sir?” / “Go on then, be rude not too“.
Sadly that’s as good as it gets this week with the hated aeroplane demanding an early start and some practicing of my German. A whole two days in Berlin doing my utmost not to wag “last time I was over here was in a Lancaster”
Assuming an element of string based connectivity, I’m all enthused over a post celebrating the noble art of coming second. I’m sure you can guess what that’s all about.