22°C, like yesterday with more wind

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Screech: The front brake cable broke on pulling up at traffic lights this afternoon. I over-ran the line by about 10 feet & pulled over cursing. Quick decision- go to Brownhills, a slight detour and find somewhere to get a new cable. What an odd place- it’s all shut and run-down looking. It was probably like that when I was little, but it didn’t seem that way then. Anyway, there was nowhere to buy any cycling stuff, not even something as basic as a brake cable. No choice then but to return to my route and carefully make it home.

 

Reports: I have found all sorts of distractions while trying to write school reports. Internet sites, games, and other rubbish that I wouldn’t normally give a second to. Teachers writing reports have very clean houses, the lawn is cut and the cupboards are tidy- all jobs that normally get put off, but now seem worthwhile. I have discovered webcams

 

TOTP: is getting dropped by the BBC. You may be expecting someone of my age to be whistful with nostalgia about the news, but no. It’s been a waste of electricity/airtime & in all the forty years it has been onair. It claimed to be a showcase for British popular music when all it does is reflect the buying habits of the singles age-group. that is, apparaently mostly 13 year old girls- hardly a comprehensive cross-section of Britain in the 20th Century. Good-bye Top of the Pops and don’t come back

28+°C, light SW.

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Cosford: cycled to RAF Cosford via quite a long route and took lunch at "The Spider’s web". 45 miles to get there, buy hey- it was the nice route. Just as I finished the food the jets took off. The row they made…

Anyway, I teamed up with some old guys from another cycle club who knew a good place to spectate. I sat myself in the heat, the grass and nettles as long as my water supply lasted out. It was so hot that 2 litres was good for only 2½ hours. In that time I watched the spitfires, some noisy jets and the police move and book the cars parked illegally. As soon as the police went, more cars arrived. Then helicopters arrived to do a funny dance in the air; it wasn’t a courtship dance, helicopters are machines and they don’t do that.

 

Once the water ran out, I rode home, calling at the cafe again to top up the bottles then set off north-east, downwind. It’s amazing how far away from the airbase were there people who filled the lanes, laybys and gardens to watch the planes. Four or more miles passed before the last ones were seen, standing there with binoculars. The whole of the east of Shopshire had a jubilee atmosphere.

 

As it rode away, the obligatory Lancaster/Spitfire/Hurricane flight was standing off over Boscobel house waiting their turn.

The wind saved today- it prevented too much heat-building up, the diust was keep away and I haven’t noticed any of that ozone-cough. On days like this I can sink into bed, even if it’s a hard bed like a futon and not be seen from above- I’m that tired (74 miles). Such a nice feeling.