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@Bearlegged
This wasn’t what I’d planned, but it was what I needed. I’d signed up to do the Bearbones 200 again, but as summer waned, I could sense that my battered mind didn’t want more challenges. I craved some headspace, places I wanted to see and experience without anything to force the pace. After who-even-remembers-how-long-it’s-been? I rolled out of the driveway and into 4 whole days of just me, leaving the rest of our little family to hang out with Granny.
Morning light and a misty haze draped itself gently over the Severn flood plain. Golden. Quiet lanes meant I was happy to be on tarmac. The knee ligaments that had flared with anger at being wrenched out of footballing retirement seemed OK; this had been worrying me ahead of the trip, and I was making sure to soft-pedal.
Marking my first foray off-road, the old Shrewsbury canal was nice, as was exchanging smiles with passers by. My slower pace of riding was already reaping benefits. The busy roads leading out of town were less fun, and I allowed myself a few kilometres’ worth of pedalling a little quicker, before turning off onto progressively quieter and rougher lanes and tracks. Hidden above the tree canopy, Buzzards mewed, and a Jay rolled through the air. Then the first Kite crossed the field before me, all angled wings and tail, like a ragged set square with talons in place of dividers. Magical as ever.