Well, for a short while anyways.
Holiday to use up and the siren call of the far north luring us away from our fair city we drove to our favourite bolt hole in Scotland. But without the bikes. For the cyclists amongst us let me do that again in italics for emphasis:
But without the bikes.
We went to the outdoor capital of the UK. The site of the UK’s only world cup XC circuit.
But without the bikes. Once more.
But without the bikes.
It was very relaxing. But a little like being a junky surrounded by mountains of skag and not a hypodermic in sight. It was also strange to not have grinding noises emanating from my knees each morn.
Sliding sideways down the latest trail to turn to part-grinding mulch I grabbed my re-addiction with both hands and a big grin.
Happy New Year All
Fat Lad