A Perfect Ride: 189 miles. Damp, chilly, misty, wet roads; a bit like England really, except for the wolf.
Zero traffic. For virtually the whole time, I rode with nothing ahead and nothing behind - just the occasional vehicle in the other direction (I am not exaggerating).
And the bike! Endless soul, happy to plug along at little more than a tick-over, or belt it for home with gusto, all the while bellowing out a mellow soundtrack. First real ride of the year - and a really good one.
Nick
www.amazon.com/author/nickadamswriting
