I didn’t really fancy a repeat of the close passing bonanza from yesterday so took the 29er for today’s commute. It was windy but mild. I’m not sure whether the cross tail wind was a factor or whether it was the different ride set up but I cruised about feeling little effort. There was only one off road section before the river trail in rush hour but I wasn’t hassled by anyone in a car this time. On a back lane, a docile rabbit crossed the road ahead of me and froze. I normally take a line in front of them as they always seem to hop back from where they came but no, this one remembered his direction and nosed forward. I swerved just in time to avoid him, nowhere near the panache or elan of Peter Sagan. Not that I want to but I’m yet to break my bike roadkill duck.
I was in late to claw back the hour extra that I spent at work last night and after a day of mostly sitting in front of my PC, I was able to escape home early. The temperature has finally crept up to single layer short sleeve weather but it was under threatening skies that I headed for home. It was dark enough at 4.30 to feel safer with my blinkies on and after 20 minutes the light rain started to drift down although it only stayed with me for 10 minutes. It was nice and cooling and oddly for me, pushing into the cross head wind helped keep me feeling fresh.
I treated myself to more off road on the homeward journey and ended up on a well rutted bridleway, the over-grown foliage hanging over it to make it feel as though I was in a tunnel. If the ride wasn’t so bumpy, I would come this way more often. There was a large fallen branch obstructing the smoothest line that I could choose. I swerved to avoid it but clumsily brushed past it, scratching my forearm, enough to draw more blood than it felt that it should. It streaked down to my hands and I spent the next 15 minutes home licking it away from my hand until it dried on my arm.
I arrived home expecting to regale all with tales of struggle and epic adventure but no one noticed the mark until we were at the dinner table after my shower. Apparently I have my own Harry Potter scar except that it looks nothing like a zig zag and it isn’t on my forehead.
The daily number of deaths in brackets below is more than the rest of Europe put together. Depressingly, the politicians who have a lot of blood on their hands will wriggle out of any accountability over it. They told us that we’re all in it together but I think that they think they are in a different reality altogether.
Total UK deaths: 41,481 (202)