Bike Ride

Cycling, like most things, can be a voyage of personal discovery. Today I went a ride up into the North York Moors. It was a beautiful day, but on the way out I was into a ferocious northerly head-wing. Every stroke seemed a strain. Thoughts turned to age, fitness, "was I right to buy that racing bike" etc. At the top of the ride, in Barnsdale, I suddenly got the full benefit of the howling tail-wind. Suddenly thoughts turned away from despair and excuses towards exhilaration as I hurtled off the moors at high speed, "I feel good now, maybe I could do the White Rose Classic again after all". It was a good day to be out there.