The Birds

It was a strange hand on my back that made me realise something wasn't right.  That, and the silence from my cycling companion.

A moment before, she'd leant over to unfurl my waterproof jacket.  The next second, I was being launched towards the nettles.  

I managed to stay upright.
She, however, did not!

We'd planned a ride from Addingham to take in some new hills for Liz. The day was already touch and go because the weather forecast was distinctly abysmal.  Liz is always determined though, and we set off just before lunch in the hope of being lucky.

We actually barely got wet so that was fortunate.  Liz ending up sandpapering her knee in the gravel and smacking her hip on the road was less than ideal.  It was the second time in a fortnight that she'd stared at the kerb and been magically drawn to it.  We're hoping there's no third time lucky! (Or at least I hope I'm not there!)

I'd suggested that we head straight back to Kettlewell and just go for a coffee shop and amble home. But, ever determined, she decided to try carrying on.  It wasn't to be. With a few knee twangs, we concluded we didn't really want to be like Tour de France race goddesses anyway - did a loop around Hubberholme; headed to Zarinas; had two coffees, toasties AND cake; a right old natter; and ambled home. 

Still dry at least.