I headed out just before 9pm: my son is in ‘holiday mode’, and the evening heat is unsettling his sleep pattern.
I returned circa 10.30, and the bike light was used on the descent from Port Glasgow Golf Course as a matter of picking out the fangs and holes littering the way. Visibility was good.
Well, the uphill climbs weren’t particularly punishing – I thought I’d be at death’s door and wheezing in all manner of diaphids and other airborne creatures. Surprisingly, this was a decent ride after my four week sabbatical; I’d spent a day confined to academic research so perhaps I was being borne upon my freedom. My upper body had certainly benefited from the daily sessions at the Spanish hotel gym.
The hedgerows were sweet and pungent, and dusk had settled over the land, a land peppered with newly sheared sheep. A perfect pastoral idyll – bucolic.
I managed to find myself ending Book 2 of The Belgariad as I worked my way towards Port Glasgow Golf Club. And you will see from the images that there has been – as I have been reliably informed – very good weather as of late. Shrunken beds awaited me.
18.25 km in 1:25:03, stopping to take a few snaps. From a perusal at MyTracks logs of previous attempts reveals…an average of perhaps 5 or 6 minutes of a difference.