In the last two days my bike has imploded. Having had no punctures for 600 miles I've had four in 50 miles and a ripped tire. Coupled with the atrocious weather it's been a tad frustrating. Especially when a Brum, while nicking my milk, starts telling me that she doesn't understand why cyclists moan about the rain. Apparently it cools us off. Probably a bluenose. In a line from Cambridgeshire to Bristol I climbed seven county tops - Beds, Bucks, Herts, Wilts, Hants, Berks and Oxon. The last one - Milk Hill in Wiltshire - in a hailstorm. Was going to
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