Easter chills.

8°C, strong NW with heavy rain pm.
Scratch plans: no cycling, camping, nor hiking.
The weather is terrible and I am full of cold. Even cutting some planks for the fire, I was left exhausted. So otherwise, I  can’t do much.
Here is my bike, whispering ‘can we go out yet?’ Imagine that in a voice like the snake from Jungle Book.

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There it is, gathering dust instead of mud. That’s not right, I tell you.

Mal-segue

7°C windy, showers.
Not again: less than a week after the last cold, I get the next one. This is all sore throat and malaise with a bostin’ headache. This is where the best laid plans run aground: I could have clocked up another 200 miles and potentially breached the 5,000 mile mark for the year.
But no, not this time.