Crisp and even…

Yes, two-in-a-row!

I almost turned right, down onto the main road for an evening of all-flat to McInroys Point.

I persevered.  And I was rewarded.

Knockbuckle Bridge had been relieved if its maintenance works – only noticing the fact that the bridge at Gateside too had been freed, after I had avoided it – and I worked up past Balrossie.

Chapel Farm was exquisite: bitingly cold – crisp and bathed in the brightest illumination my brave little Magicshine could throw.  The climb upwards was technically-demanding (who knows what I may have encountered also) and the little track, bordered by hedges, seemed tighter in the darkness.

Rough-shod down, over and up out of High-Mathernock I powered, leaving the usual pretensions to sunnier moments: my toes were icicles, I already knew it was to be Harelaw Reservoirs and not the shorter Golf Road, and I wanted to be home.

A cuppa (naturally) and some marking awaited me; ‘Night Circus’, a delight in language too and I finished it during the wee small hours. Jack Campbell’s Lost Fleet (Book 2 of ‘Dreadnought’ sits at 4:23 and I must admit, the ‘spider-wolves’ and ‘bear-cows’ really are pushing the suspension of disbelief – even during the darkest of rides.

Wednesday? Turn right.

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