Road Kill.

Back when I was working for XYZ Publishers I occasionally promised that I would cycle in at least once, but never did. Yesterday, I took a day off my current job and fulfilled that promise. The right day to do it, as it turned out.

Leaving the house at 09.00 I wasted no time in gaining that feeling of "oh shit it's cold, it's a long way, and now I feel a bit sick" but I pressed on regardless. By the time I had hit the brow of the first hill, everything was OK in the world. The mist was still over the fields, but the sky was blue.

The plan was to hit the Test Way, ride through Stockbridge, and on to Andover. Arriving at that point, however, it became apparent that the toll for the amount of rain over the past few months was mud, and lots of it. Cycling through it would be tough, and slow. Cycling on the road, which can be a bit of a race track would be faster, but dangerous.

I don't know why, but I chose the road. Interestingly enough nobody did anything spectacularly stupid, and I saw a few cyclists come the opposite way so maybe my theory about there being more cyclists, and therefore more aware drivers is starting to hold water.

The mist cleared from the fields as I arrived in Stockbridge, and I took a five minute pitstop before heading off again. Horses ran along with me in their fields, and a few deer looked inquisitively at me as I rode past - quite hidden from driver's view amongst tree branches, but still right next to the road. Some where along this point I spotted a lone red glove, and then a few miles on it's partner, never to be reunited with their soulmate.

Views across the fields were spectacular. I really wish I had taken a camera. It's strange to think I drove this way every day for two years and never appreciated it. I wonder how many do likewise.

It finally feels like spring could be just around the corner. A round trip of 36 miles. My legs are aching now, but I feel invigorated. Remind me - why do I drive again?