Some dystopian snaps were taken from the Knocknair ‘rest’, which looks down onto Greenock and the River Clyde; and it was at this stage of the evening I was duly soaked by a flash torrent. I had some cotton shorts, which became sodden; however the recently acquired Regatta Isotore jacket held its own – shame on you, Specialized lightweight.
It was a sweet night, 7ish, the country lanes – again – heavily perfumed by an unidentifiable flower (or weed); energy was good – eventually. The streams I passed were engorged and ran quickly, aplenty despite the time of year.
I continue to contemplate the Hardridge Farm to Muirshiel singletrack: I just balk at the amount of standing water I’d have to endure; and I’d take up the challenge of a moonlit ride, too if we’d at least had consecutive days of sun.
‘Delivery Boy’, (and deliberately staying on minor roads, avoiding trails) I popped the foil carton into my High Sierra and popped along the M80.
And yes, dear reader(s), I am slowly re-introducing the Routes page links to the downloadable KML maps. Sorry!
Oh! And is this the largest rhubarb patch you have ever seen?