Seven layers for the late afternoon bicycle ride. Any excuse for buying up endless eBay cycling clobber.
The Estuary Wilds sun made a brief appearance on the downhill stretch towards Alresford. It then though f-that, and retreated for the next couple of hours. I knew how it felt.
Keep moving; just keep on moving.
I was out on the road bike once again. I’m amazed that I had so much love for the tourer during those dark days of Lockdown 3. The roadie is an altogether different beast. I never feel as though cycling is a struggle. The bike carries me around the route.
The Great Bentley tank looked as splendid and BONKERS as ever. It’s a sister companion to the Southwark model on Mandela Way. I’ve no idea about the backstory to the Great Bentley tank in a front garden. It is most odd.
A headwind hit me all the way out along the Weeley stretch. The wind turbines confirmed what I was feeling underneath the seven layers.
The road surface was uneven around the outskirts of St Osyth. The vibrations coming from the slicks on the roadie actually led to a slight pain in my hands. A discarded roadside Christmas tree looked as though it was rusting.
A decent distance, a decent ride.