Old Friends

Having lived in Cornwall for the past 6 years with its amazing golf Stream and sub tropical climate you forget very quickly how bloody cold minus 8 can feel even when you are powering as hard as you can up the ever lasting climbs Dartmoor can give you, the icy air cuts deep into your lungs feeling like your hacking up glass!  

I set off, I-phone set to music and tracking GPS on so I could plot my route when I returned home (- and so Matt could see where I was as It was Daddy's day of rein in the Sanwell house.)  So there I was in the Volvo estate driving east to Plymouth. I was on my lonesome - not that it bothered me at all - I loved it just being me myself and my very strange thoughts!  

I wanted to get in a good 6 hour solid ride, but why I thought that fingerless gloves and no shoe covers would be ok - someone shoot the blonde!!  What a dip shit - there I was, so pleased to have made it up Shaugh Prior hill, through frozen puddles and onto the bleak moor, that I didn't even think that it was likely to be colder the higher I climbed!  Even the ponies looked at me with distain.  It finally broke me and I had to drop back down into the 'low-lands' of the Plym Valley and woods, and spent my last hour cruising old trails passing discarded clothing from the kids who spend their weekends building dirt jumps and dens - all the stuff kids should be doing!  

It was like seeing an old friend after so long, but we get on better than we ever have before.  The best thing about my day though was being able to come home to three very happy (but filthy) children, fire roaring, family bag of crisps, glass of wine and Mr. Popper's Penguins on the sofa and a massive blanket made up of three children, a wonderful husband and a cat - somewhere!