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I became lost, yet again, just outside Bogense, on the way home. Without any sign of the sun in the grey gloom I could not be sure of my true direction. So I did a five mile pointless loop before returning back to my foolish exit. The wind was fairly light but noticeable for its greater resistance as I headed back south. I carefully avoided main roads, as best I could, but still had to take to the verge several times to let large vehicles pass.
Token image of Bogense harbour showing hideous waterfront buildings. I tried my best to exclude them from the background but would have needed a drone or a life jacket.
A specialized muck spreader, tanker and plough buries the animal waste to avoid odour. It works too! The tyres were equally massive and the whole machine had the family characteristics of a combine harvester.
I watched as a tractor with a verge mower arm sticking out became larger and larger in my rear view mirror on a very long straight. Luckily a gravel forecourt presented itself just before he <cough> "mowed me down." He veered around me with his overhanging mace still closely menacing. Having gained a mile on me, along with all those who overtook me, I caught them all at a set of lights at red for major roadworks. As the tractor took off I paced him to avoid balking the traffic. Luckily I still had just enough breath and speed to reach the end of the narrow roadworks before he began to pull away.
Sunshine, at last, just as I reached within ten miles of home. Though it was never less than warm all day. I seemed to have managed the food intake and drinks quite well this time. I shall be sipping water for most of the evening. Only 58 miles. For 3rd equal, longest mileage this year.
A wibbly-wobbly cycle path beside a straight road. The traffic was completely ignoring the 50kph [30mph] signs and then jamming on the brakes just as they reached the constantly flashing, speed indicator board at the infant school,
A farmer was burning off a large stack of hay or silage. Presumably from last year's crop. The smoke drifted for miles without lifting as my eyes and nose watered steadily. Visibility was still reduced two miles downwind and my clothes stank of it. It is no wonder the Danes and Vikings went on global raids. They were just trying to get away from their neighbour's bløødy smoke!
A buzzard took umbrage at my arrival and circled back to the woods. With its plaintive mewing carrying on the still air. Then a huge tractor roared up the hill to sew the field which I had just left. The farmers had obviously been hacking back the forest edges to gain another couple of meters. This has left a just manageable path on the new boundary but it was a shame to see large branches just hacked off mature oaks. No doubt the EU dictators would be proud.
Three large herons were sitting at the bottom of the track down from the woods. I only managed to get within one hundred yards of them before they took off. Just beyond them were half a dozen pheasants. As I walked back along the road I was almost run over from behind by a double-decker coach on a school outing! The driver had swung very wide to overtake a scooter into the teeth of oncoming traffic and missed me by only two feet. The oncoming cars had to slow to a walking pace to let him pass! Then I was asked by a driver for directions to a large local farm. I was shocked to discover that I could actually guide him straight there [in Danish] without my causing my usual confusion. Another rest day working in the garden.
Click on any image for an enlargement.
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