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 head to Wales on Friday but change of plan because there's nowhere to stay. Instead I'm going back to Cheltenham, my old Echo stomping ground, to climb Cleeve Hill, then Worcestershire Beacon and Clee Hill
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