Oh, it’s fun having a bike again. As you rattle along (me not the bike) there’s nothing quite like the feel of the wind in your face and the taste of flies in your gob. Then there are the hills – the giant sleeping demons of the cycling world that can explode every leg muscle in your body without so much as stirring.
“Flies in your gob” is not a particularly inspiring mental picture I admit but, quite naturally, we all tend to dwell on the happier days pedalling in the sunshine; those days of leafy tranquillity; of canal towpaths and stopping at “Ye Olde Waterside Pub” for lunch.
Sometimes it just ain’t like that, he said…spitting out the remnants of today’s invertebrate feast.
So, here’s what it’s really like:
Ah…now that would be a canal towpath (ahem).
And..oh…this would be “Ye Olde Pub” – and that looks very like a lunch menu on the table.
Oh well…maybe it’s not all hills and flies.
You will notice from the last photo that I’m not the only one to come into possession of a new mountain bike. A green eyed monster spied my new machine and demanded one of her own.