splashing

it occurs to me that the tuesday night group are aged collectively at around 175 years, possibly more. i do this calculation in my head as we banter about the fact that, for one of us, this'll be his last night ride in his forties. i've told them in advance that i'm not on form, that my legs are poor, but as i should've expected this is like blood in the water and we go up the hardest hill they can find. all's fair!

it's a great night, not quite freezing but not far off, the sky is clear and once we're out in the forest there's no light pollution out to the stars. in the trees there's all manner of bird life but quite what we can't tell. it is wet tho with multiple river and splash crossings. j assures us 'it wasn't like this on saturday'

on the way back we hammer it down some wee back lane. in cycling terms the definition of a race is two people on bicycles on the same road. it's just wide enough for overtaking but this is complicated by the large and abundant potholes. inevitably the jostling for position leads to some detours through the water which of course descends into the spectacle of us bunny hopping into the puddles to splash each other on the way past.

we cruise back in. true we're getting older and, for at least one of us the economic situation has brought the spectre of redundancy very close but for a brief waterlogged moment we're still daft kids soaking our mates. i find this very reassuring