I came close to taking the bike out today. The surprisingly still around snow was oh so lovely. Took a closer look, conclusion pretty but slippy. Considered the effect a sudden introduction to terra firma would have on my surgically battered shoulder. Dug out the walking boots.
The clouds obliged by letting go of an assortment of snow n’ sleet, the woods were picture book (only slightly let down by the absence of Victorian lamp-posts). No-one in sight. I’d almost convinced myself I was somewhere real and was quite enjoying the ‘walk’. I don’t normally unless there’s a hill to be climbed with a view to be borrowed.
Having mooched a long way across several fields I found myself confronted by cows, not hundreds but enough to warrant the word ‘herd’. I don’t like cows much. I especially don’t like the ones with balls like footballs and rings through their noses. Whilst I stood dithering they clearly decided that I shouldn’t be in their field and definitely not whilst wearing ‘Red’ Goretex and ‘advanced’. I’d like to say I considered playing them at their own game but the one with the ring, the one the size of a small family car, was bringing up the rear. Cue rapid exit via a barbed wire fence into a gap in the hedge.
Admired the traffic on the M25, caught up on some phone calls, wondered whether there was any substance to ‘red rag’s and bulls. Time passed, they lost interest but the bull was still between me and the gate. I did dignified and purposeful for about two seconds before giving in and breaking my no running rule.
Couple of miles further along two rottweilers shoot out of a house and started hurling themselves at the fence alongside the path I’m trying to walk down. They’re working as a team, they’ve had practice. If I advance one races ahead whilst the other guards the rear, I’m trapped between them. I don’t know much about dogs but I reckon that anything that sounds like the soundtrack to The Hound of the Baskervilles is not going to just playfully lick my hand and if ‘they’ can comfortably rest their paws on top of a fence then the fence isn’t high enough. For the second time I broke the no running rule.
My ‘waterproof’ jacket’s torn, my knees hurt.
Walking would be dull if you didn’t have things like this happening to liven it up!
I did two hard hours in the snow/mud/ice on a fully rigid bike and now I am paying the price!
Unwise choice of bike and your age showing through there sir.
( I did 20 mins on the turbo and was obliged to go and have a little lie down, ahem..)