Going west, gradually
The shortest route between Peterborough, where I collected this bike six years ago, and its new home in South Wales goes, coincidentally, almost past my front door. 195 miles. I rode 87 of them, on a horrible, cold, wet day. The next 108 were in a horse carrier this afternoon.
I've ridden well under 1,000 miles in those six years but I was still a little sad to see my bike go.
Its new owner takes his test this Thursday. I'm sure he'll make better use of the bike than I have. I wish him much safety and much fun.