We Take No Prisoners.

We wandered up the road to watch the Monstruous Regiment (“un-natural government” in modern parlance, a term coined by John Knox in fifteen hundred and something in a rant against female monarchy) cycle past; they do look an intimidating bunch.
Having wandered back home while pondering about the number of motorbikes involved, we had a quick coffee before deciding to beetle off up to The Granites to see the Queen of the Mountains sprint. We arrived at the foot of the climb in plenty of time to reach the summit but, quite rightly, we weren’t allowed past the road block so we stayed there to count the motorbikes (55 in all: police, marshals and sundry other helpers), chat and listen to the squealing brakes as they approached the sharp corner. It seems that there had been a lot of riders abandoning due to crashes, punctures and being wimps; but they have been through some appalling conditions over the three days. There is also a very nasty muddy corner a few miles down the road from there which I would expect to cause a nasty pile-up; I don’t know if it actually happened. Even five motor bikes have abandoned due to crashes, though no one was hurt.
We then went on to see the sprint at Bonnyrigg, but the riders beat us to it; it would have been a better idea to head for Holyrood Park for the final half hour of racing. If it happens again, some plans will be made a few days before.
The extras are of a marshal’s insulated coffee mug and a policeman’s water bottle (presumably the latter are not allowed stimulants).