A Hard Ride

One day I’ll have an enjoyable ride again … But not today. There are levels of not enjoying it though; today was one of those rides where, on the whole, it was nice when it ended – but it was good to have done it. I didn’t enjoy doing it, but I enjoyed the fact that I did it, if that makes any sense.

A terrifically strong wind and a sky full of rolling grey clouds, coming on top of the lingering remnants of last week’s cough and cold and the fact that I’ve hardly ridden a bike this month made it hard going. I cut it short by about eight miles just because I was tired but that worked out well as it was raining within 10 minutes of getting home. A happy accident. I guess just a .2 on the Hengistbury Scale*.

There’s a small but significant pleasure that comes with escaping something undesirable by chance, through an uninformed or unrelated choice. The feeling of, for once, fate being on your side. It’s daft but real.

On the little lane running along the bottom of the hill from Henley towards Aston I disturbed the biggest flock of chaffinches I’ve ever come across – I don’t know about hundreds of them but certainly many 10s. I don’t know if that’s unusual or not in the big scheme of things but it is in my experience.

*The Hengistbury Scale.