Spoils of war.

Remind me that there’s only one direction on the Golf Course track.

Highly inflated tyres could not cope and I almost dislocated my shoulder falling between a tyre track.  Too much time was wasted.

Eventually I emerged onto the B788, headed up Strathgryffe and returned from Kilmacolm by the cycle track. Just over an hour and returned to deliver the 100 kisses promised to my sleeping son.

Big bowl of chilli (lean turkey mince), cuppa and the middle of Eastenders).

A tiny bit of marking remained but the warm glow compensated.


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