Cross Baiku:
Leave London behind, in body and mind. Bike ready – check. Clothes ready – check. Clear night, full (ish moon – check. Perfect. Warm up on the tarmac. Drop out of civilisation and into the woods. Crisp and cold. Climb wet chalky South Downs Way on a cross bike suddenly seems like a good idea.
Stop at the top of the world and look down on towns and villages and cars and trains and people not out here with me. Decending on a wet chalky South Downs Way on a cross bike suddenly seems like a bloody stupid idea. Arrive at the bottom sort of sideways.
More woods before home. Stop long enough for nature to allow me to join in the conversation. Trees, owls, foxes, all chattering and muttering. Shotguns uttering a human presence. Back home for sausage sandwiches and tea and bed. Take a picture of the stable to document the event. Best ride of my life.
Leave London behind, in body and mind. Bike ready – check. Clothes ready – check. Clear night, full (ish moon – check. Perfect. Warm up on the tarmac. Drop out of civilisation and into the woods. Crisp and cold. Climb wet chalky South Downs Way on a cross bike suddenly seems like a good idea.
Stop at the top of the world and look down on towns and villages and cars and trains and people not out here with me. Decending on a wet chalky South Downs Way on a cross bike suddenly seems like a bloody stupid idea. Arrive at the bottom sort of sideways.
More woods before home. Stop long enough for nature to allow me to join in the conversation. Trees, owls, foxes, all chattering and muttering. Shotguns uttering a human presence. Back home for sausage sandwiches and tea and bed. Take a picture of the stable to document the event. Best ride of my life.
