I went out for a nice long bike ride on Friday. I took the usual route to Glastonbury via Crewkerne; as I was coming through Crewkerne the weather was quite drizzly and I considered turning round and going back home but decided to carry on. I'm glad I did because it soon cleared up and the rest of the day was decent weather. When I got to Glastonbury I stopped there briefly for a loo break and also to buy three bottles of Cappuccino porter.
I was soon on my way again along the A39 to Bridgwater. I stopped at a tavern car park along the way to put some air in the rear wheel of my bike as it was running slightly soft. Whilst I was doing so one of the members of staff (I suspect it might have been the landlady.) came over to check I was alright and see if I needed a hand. I bimbled into Bridgwater and found the start of the Bridgwater-Taunton canal then stopped for a spot of lunch.
I was just about to set off after lunch when I spotted my rear wheel was flat so I sorted that out and carried on along the 14 mile stretch of canal. The canal has the Somerset Space walk along it, a scaled down model of the solar system with the sun at the half way point of the canal and two sets of planets, one in either direction. It was a nice quiet ride along the canal, looking out for the planets on their plinths/milestones and also watching the occasional train going by.
When I got to Taunton I didn't stop there long, just long enough to pop into the Tobacconist; they didn't have any chewing tobacco so a tin of WoS SP100 it was. I was soon on my way again contending with the busy traffic going out of town. There's a section of duel carriage way on the outskirts of Taunton, both lanes were busy and moving slowly. I put my foot down and went between the two lines of cars at about 20mph making motorbike noises under my breath; there's nothing quite as enjoyable as a bit of youthful exuberance in situations like that
I took some country lanes between Taunton and the Ilminster roundabout and got slightly lost. I passed another cyclist twice; both times she had a look of forlorn resignation on her face. I can imagine she was either a local who's resigned to the fact she lives somewhere she doesn't want to or she was, like me, a lost cyclist and had indeed been lost for so long she'd become resigned to her fate of cycling round and round those byways, never to rediscover civilisation again. If I'm ever cycling that way again I'll make sure I have a bag of Jelly babies with me; maybe a couple of those will cheer her up.
I was soon back on my way and dropped down into Chard where I visited my eldest Sister and her family for a quick cup of coffee before pooting along the back roads to Beaminster. Those last few miles were a bit of a killer but I kept plodding on and, twelve hours after I left the flat and with 9 hours worth of peddling and 100.31 miles on the clock, was back home again. I had a nice duck leg and the three bottles of Porter for tea then off to bed where I slept like a baby.