It has been many months since we have seen another soul. My riding companion has lapsed into an almost constant state of debauchery, eating flies and exposing his entire rear to birds. It has become unpleasant.
I had twenty-three cashew nuts in this satchel yesterday, now there are twenty four. I know he is putting extra nuts in there when I am distracted, but am unsure as to his purpose. I will lay in wait and surprise him tomorrow, perhaps I will hit him with a fish.
As we head into the mountains I am reminded of the romantic notions of the outdoors: the fresh scents of lavender and summer flowers and freckle-cheeked, stout-of-flank country biddies ready to accompany a stranger to a nearby haystack at the tip of a helmet. Unfortunatly the truth is more severe, with the scents laced with sour meat and excrement smelling of the flatulence of a thousand good bottoms.
The miles are still of standard pacing and the sun still flecks the fields but our undercarriages are chafed and our minds are slipping. What will they make of us when we emerge on the other side, depraved and insatiable?
A question to ponder over Rainbow, until then.
Benjamin Kidney Esq.
P.S. Thanks to Joe and Emma of Cycleworkz Christchurch for servicing our bottom brackets for no more than a wink and a whistle.