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  • I took the steep and direct line up onto the Long Mynd. The stiff tailwind had me in two minds: grateful for its assistance as it pushed me up the steep slope, but also wary of the black clouds that were pursuing me on its currents. Along the top was gorgeous. The gliding club didn't seem to be flying, but I still took them up on their offer of a permissive diversion away from the runway "with more views of Wales". No need to ask me twice with those incentives. A mix of grass tracks, quiet lanes and well-groomed gravel saw me progress along the ancient plateau, pausing to greet the local ponies just as the Wrekin, my final destination, peeked out over the horizon.

    From here, it was an easy glide downhill, and back on to quiet lanes in search of somewhere to stop for a picnic and drum up. A quiet bench overlooking the church at Acton Burnell did just the trick, the friendly staff at the local school filled my water bottles, and I finished off the last of the goat's cheese.
    From there, a gentle bimble across the plain and along the flanks of the Wrekin and Ercall. The promised rains never caught me up, and I rolled home.

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