Road to heaven

Underneath my nose is more red than usual.  My cross bar has more nose drips than it normally does.  My gloves have already been through the wash.  And it was lucky I put a tissue in my pocket.

Auntie Peg died this morning and I found out when I was on my lunch stop in Hawes.  It sounds an awful thing probably, but I'd guessed that was going to be the news and I could have waited until I got home to call back.  But, I concluded that I'd rather ride alone with Auntie Peg all the way home in the Yorshire air than get home and be upset.

Unfortunately, my tissue wan't big enough and I ended up using the grass to assist as I stopped for a photo.  When I heard the whizz of a cyclist's wheels coming from the other direction, I cringed and then had a proper old laugh out loud at what I must look like. 

It was a wonderful journey and this stretch after lunch was my absolute favourite part of the ride.  Seeing Ingleborough appear in the distance felt tremendous as the road swooped round.  I stopped in Horton-in-Ribblesdale for a peppermint tea and flapjack and had a lovely chat about bikes and journeys with one of the guys there. Afterwards, I headed over to Malham and fitted in a reckless third stop in Bolton Abbey, simply making the most of time, thoughts and memories.

It was a strange old ride but still a magnificent day.  There really aren't many other places I would rather have been.

We had lots of holidays with nan and Auntie Peg when we were younger and I have very fond and special memories of her.  She's actually Great Auntie Peg but I'd never really thought about that until today.  Great would actually be an understatement for her.  She was small but with the biggest heart you could imagine.

We saw her only in April.  I'm so glad we did and doubly pleased to have found her then in such good spirits and looking well.

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