Day 7 with the bike.
Stuck to my guns and effected an early escape. I had a birthday card to post so walked to the post box. The air was still and quiet, no traffic noise just the peaceful sound of bird song. A better morning then than the window assessment had foretold. Back home, then in the saddle before 6:30. I'd barely covered a quarter mile before I was cold, so home for another layer and gloves. And then of course I forgot to reset the GPS, so no data for this morning.
I struck out from Lee towards Gosport. I wish I'd kept the photos of the former handiwork of the road painters. They had shortened 'Gosport' to 'G.Spot' in their road markings at one time along this route.
[insert own joke here]
I took a back route towards Elson that features a fairly quaint bridge from which a decent view can be had towards the naval base at Portsmouth in one direction and a pleasing rather than exceptional estuary view to the other.
There was a grey hulk of a ship across the water which I take to be the new HMS Liz. Despite its great bulk it really is not so easy to see. I guess you could say that's effective design.
A few pedal turns later to Priddy's Hard brought this signboard into view.
To the right of the sign is the entrance and a yard with some imposing looking vintage weaponry - not exactly my thing, but this is a town with an extensive naval history.
At some traffic lights going towards Fareham a serious cyclist pulled along side. I say 'serious' because he looked me up and down without a word or a blink and then took off as fast as his legs could take him. I held his back wheel at a constant 10metres or so for something approaching a kilometre, but rounding a bend put us in a strong a colder headwind where he had more puff in his chest and more power in his legs. I turned off onto a cycle path that had more protection from the wind and rode that mostways back to Gosport.
I didn't feel quite ready to end and make for the home run, so instead I deviated off towards Stokes Bay. I didn't much care for the combination of bar-shaking coarse tarmac, potholes, gradient and wind resistance, but the eventual view of the Solent made it worthwhile. I kept the sea in view as much as possible back to Lee resisted by a fairly stiff sea breeze, and homeward, sensing that fuel starvation was setting in by then.
The conditions hadn't made me feel like pushing too hard and I stopped a few times to take some pics. No data this morning but I'll guess at about 12 miles.