Monday, 27 August 2007

right click

There's the merest hint of a chill in the morning air but summer's finally shown her face. Briefly, I suspect. so we ride all day, up and down too many hills, sampling views, singletrack and skies. Find a new tea room in Findon that sells quiche and apple pie by weight (very dangerous), find the heavily hogweeded trails of last week all neatly strimmed to giggly pinball runs, drink quietly under acid green canopies, spin hot and windblown over the tops.

Last descent, I look back to make sure they're still behind me and get the mental snapshot to beat all others. Three riders, singletrack, blue sky, cloud of dust. File>Save As>Perfection...


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