31 Jul 2017

31st July 2017 I'll think of something...

Monday 31st, 62F, 17C, bright, but cloudy, with showers possible. Denmark nearly got away with a 38 year old record for a July day without hitting a 25C temperature. That's 77F in Old Money. Yesterday it hit 74F locally but other places spoilt the show by reaching a stratospheric 26C. On only three occasions since 1878[?] has Denmark failed to reach 26C in July. It has been a rather unspectacular year so far. More mild and damp than hot and sunny. The wine has suffered but the slugs have thrived. Next come the midges. And that was July.


29 Jul 2017

28th July 2017 What? No electric balers?


Friday 28th 52F, 11C, a bright start but rain forecast. Possibly thundery. Still holding off at 10.30. I rode to the shops early and back in a stiff side wind which felt more like a head wind. Only 7 miles.

The Danish news tells us that there are now over 2000 charging points for electric cars in Denmark. Slightly more than there are petrol stations. However, there were only 17 electric cars sold in Denmark in 2017 and all are owned by property investment, multi-billionaires. Only they can afford the massive import taxes deliberately and politically designed to [subtly] thumb their piggy snouts at AGW. [Agricultural Greed Warning.]

What to do when your huge lawn "gets away from you?" Just invite a small, local farmer to come in to cut it and bale it. Ponies are still the favourite, robotic lawnmowers, however. All you need is to plug in a coal-fired, electric fence and contact a bale dealer.

Classic American cars are very popular in Denmark. I have heard rumours that the Danish government has access to a large and immaculately maintained fleet of these gas guzzlers. They are mostly used for kommuting [sic] back and forth to EU climate meetings all over Europe. Well, somebody had to put their foot down. All the private jets were having difficulty finding local parking at these posh banquets. It is good security cover too. For all the staff who have to protect the politicooze from themselves. Seeing 50 classic American cars go past looks like just another meeting of like-minded, petrol heads. Not far wrong, either.

A micro, Petrol-head snail crashing the slug, drag racing scene on local roads.

There are probably fewer electric cars sold here than Ferraris or Lamborghinis. Both of which are rarer than unicorn droppings on the local, Danish highways. A few Porsches with German number plates roar past occasionally.  I have seen fewer supersportscars here in 20 years than I would normally see daily in a city like Bath in the UK. Mind you, lightweight trikes are probably even rarer. Which probably makes me a bit "special." 😉  I had better glue a unicorn horn onto my cycling helmet and hang a bag for collecting droppings on the back axle. Somebody on eBay is bound to want some for their roses.

Saturday 29th 58F, 14C, heavy overcast, windy and raining hard. Expected to clear up later. I'm not holding my breath. It did eventually, but I didn't.

Sunday 30th 66-74F, 19-23C, light breeze, cloudy but bright intervals.  The sky went black and there was a massive, thundery cloudburst after 11am. A flock of some 30 swallows were flying around quite normally amongst the falling "stair rods." No cagoules? Not even a snorkel and flippers? An emergency poncho? Apparently not needed.

I had hardly managed a hundred yards walking along the road when a pretty Bambi head popped up from the crop. We exchanged moist, wide-eyed stares for a few seconds and then it bounded off. Jumping high to avoid damaging the crops? Or avoiding catching its hooves in the dense stalks? It left no clear message as it quickly gained the summit of a small rise and vanished. My attempts at capturing the creature were thwarted by slow response times. Both by camera and operator.

Then I played tag with a hare. Which seemed determined to remain at the limit of my TZ7's modest zoom range. If you stare really hard at the picture the hare is seen mesmerized by a large red arrow floating in the air just above it. I wish I could claim the arrow had something to do with the crop circles. But those visible are only spray tracks following GPS guidance from above. 

Later a ride to the shops in breezy conditions. Despite the towering, cauliflower clouds, the sun seemed to shine constantly on our tricycling hero labouring along, down below. As I carved a short route along the glittering valleys between local thunder storms. At 74F it was strictly bare arms and bare legs, shorts and cycling jersey perfection. Only in the forest did the temperature seem to fall suddenly. Elsewhere it was nicely steamy.

However it was not all positive. The ex-local bank, sports bag, which I have used for literally ages, finally and catastrophically let go of its 180° roof zip. I am now bereft and bagless. It was so perfect too! Its 50x30x30cm fitted my trike to absolute perfection. It lay over the Carradice Camper thanks to perfectly proportioned and comfortable, cloth loop handles. A generously proportioned shoulder strap was just the gilding on the lily. I loved that bag despite its jet black exterior [and interior.] Magenta or burgundy would have been nice for a bit of understated bling. That would have given me more street cred as I danced around my bag outside the supermarkets.

Alas, poor bag, it is no more..

Alas, the local bank, where I obtained my prize, free of charge, is no more. The entire rank of struggling shops and small businesses has been entirely erased by a very large excavator. Leaving a naked eye view of a once hidden, but now extinct, rural sorting office and downgraded, equally rural, bus station with extensive cycle parking. One hardly likes to think of the wind whistling across here without the natural windbreak provided by this [now missing] terrace. What will all the teenage drunks and druggies do now for shelter [from inquisitive eyes] on those long, summer evenings? 

What plans they have for this heavily trafficked, high street situation is as yet unknown. Well, not to me at least, but I don't take the local [advertising] paper. It's nothing personal, but I am still heartily afraid of "going native" after all these years. And that would never do. I don't even like most Danish beers. While [intensive] pork frikadeller with sauce [the Danish national dish consumed at precisely 18.00pm daily] would make me psychologically retch. And I have more than enough personal problems already. Not least finding another free, 45 liter, sports bag! Preferably in understated Burgundy or magenta. But beggars can't be choosers.

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25 Jul 2017

25th July 2017 Snot fair!

Tuesday 25th 59-66F, 15-19C, heavy overcast and rain with a light breeze. The Head Gardener and I are both suffering from bunged up chests, runny noses, watery eyes and misbehaving ears after a couple of days of spraying, harvesting and ploughing on the fields around us. So buy shares in tissues! According to the DMI there is very little pollen about because of the rain.

Walked the lanes under grey skies before is started raining for most of the day. Still lots of energetic swallows around. A bird of prey has just turned a circle over our back garden before moving on, effortlessly stiff winged.

It seems BMW is to build the Danish billionaires' first electric car. The Tesla was strictly in the Bill Gates' price league in Denmark. The electric Mini is to be built in Oxford. Thanks to crippling import taxes the eMini's price in Denmark is likely to interest only oil magnates and there are precious few of them here. Lots of coal magnates though who own or supply the majority of Danish power stations. So BMW may sell one or two eMinis in Denmark. Only to those who already own a Lamborghini or Ferrari as the tax-free, company car. Funny they don't ever drive coal fired cars.. isn't it?

Wednesday 26th 61-72F, 16-22C, overcast, with a light breeze, but dry.

I hear the UK will ban all coal-fired cars by 2040. Denmark remains resolute that "no lefty, pinko, tree huggin' Danish hippy is ever going to get their hands on an electric car." "Not on my watch!" The PM is to form an alliance with President Kim of North Korea to fight the "creeping menace" of electric cars. They are said to be forming a COALition to help to boost their flagging share prices as coal-fired car production is tapered off. The idea, presented by Kim in a joint statement, is that all electric cars must have a political prisoner with a red flag walking in front of them at all times.

I walked along the track to the marsh against the invading hordes of slugs. The vast swarms of ducks were practicing their "Laughing Gear" chorus. So I thought they'd make a good audience for my stand-up routine. Whereupon they immediately fell silent and turned their backs on me! A buzzard was circling and calling over the woods, wings outstretched, in the very light breeze.

The traffic was almost non-existent at times, as befits the national holiday. I frequently take to the  verge to allow large lorries to pass without having to go around me. As is the norm for those of us who follow the age-old discipline and Code of The Defensive Walking Institute. Only to [quickly] discover that they never intended to go out around me anyway because they were on their mobile phones! Don't you just hate it when that happens?

It was warm and sunny by the time I was released from the starting gates and thundered off down the drive. Bit of a crosswind but nothing serious. Shops were very quiet. Saw several cyclists out training and others touring. Only 7 miles.

Thursday 27th 62-66F, 17-19C, rather cloudy with a light breeze. Showers possible all day. Despite the grey skies it stayed dry for my morning walk. The wind had picked up just as a large tractor started spraying the fields upwind of us. I decided to go anyway and walked downwind with a strange smell on the air. It didn't seem to bother the birds which were out in large numbers again. Flocks of thirty-odd swallows or sparrows are very commonplace.

The tractor passed me later towing its huge tank and folded spray bars. A child was sitting in the lap of the driver. Did this signify product safety or mere, pig ignorance? As I have mentioned before I had a farming neighbour who said you could safely put Roundup on your breakfast serial. The sales rep had told him so. Not on my organic Muesli, you can't! A wet day, until later.

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24 Jul 2017

24th July 2017 Carrying the can.


Monday 24th 60F, 15C, bright, but rather cloudy with no wind. Walked briskly to the village in slightly sticky conditions even for a fairly lightweight jacket. The road was splattered with yet more slugs. A score of swallows were enjoying the airspace over a pretty village pond below the church on its prehistoric hump. With lilies and irises looking particularly well at this time of year. 

Small part of a vast flock of mink gulls turning up their noses beaks at actively foraging behind the plough.

Can anyone explain how somebody in sore need of an "energy" drink can manage to carry the full can to the checkout and then struggle out of the shop, all the way out to the car park? But having once consumed all that "concentrated energy" they no longer have the physical strength to reach the nearest waste bin? 

The same goes for takeaway snacks. They are so weak from hunger they repeatedly risk shortening their lives at one of these "healthy foods" establishments. Once they have regained their missing strength it's the same old story. The multi-layer packing is just tossed onto the verge through the car window.

Meanwhile, I have regularly ridden up to 80 miles without so much as a sideways glance at an "energy" drink or takeaway snack and still managed to reach home having missed two normal meal times! I didn't even have a reserve of "between meals blubber" to call upon as an "energy" reserve. I looked more like a [bent] stick in just my shorts than something which would easily roll downhill unaided.

The common Drag racing slug is recognizable by its sleek, streamlined form. It is said to be capable of considerable bursts of speed when competing against commuters. This bronzed individual has obviously been training hard over the summer months.

I was allowed out for a hilly ride today. Mixed periods of sunshine and cloud with light winds. Going well and climbing out of the saddle a lot of the time. The countryside and forest were looking gorgeous again today. I completely forgot [again] and brought back the muesli bar and apple juice I so desperately needed to "maintain my energy levels."

It seems I am doing it all wrong. I should have been eating Heinz Shredz "healthy eating" bars with up to 67% sugar despite its "99% fruit" sales propaganda. I wonder whether their advertising staff or Heinz [Bulk Sugar] management would eat Heinz Shredz or feed their children with them? Do tobacco executives bring home free cigarettes for their families to enjoy? Only 20 miles.

20 Jul 2017

20th July 2017 Bananas! Pardon? ✔

Thursday 20th 64F, 18C, heavy cloud but dry. Rain by lunchtime. What happened to Tuesday and Wednesday? This is Saturday according to my inner clock. I knew I should have taken the quartz movement upgrade instead of relying on the old-fashioned original. Enjoyed a walk up to the woods going anticlockwise. Spotted one black, feral cat and a very large hare.

Yesterday was a [seasonally adjusted] High Level of Swallow Exuberance. As flocks of up to 30 birds wheeled around trees and houses in effortlessly tight formation. Today there were only a few stragglers winging their way over the ripe crops. Probably suffering from an adrenaline hangover after yesterday's, superb, aerial gymnastics.

Two [banana] bunches of useful information on the Gravely Blighted News today:

 1. 2/3ds of Alzheimer's is caused by being an old fart.
2. BBC wages are inversely proportional to the £43,000 per week, wage earner's actual value to human progress.
I was going to patent the obvious answer to multiple problems. But euthanasia was already taken.
It seems there are nine factors responsible for 1/3 of the cases of dementia. If only I could remember them... I might have had something to say. It seems though, that I get extra house points for being able to spell Alzheimer's without a spelling checker. Google got it wrong so they must be suffering from dementia already.

Wouldn't that be ironic? Google becomes an aware AI and it has dementia from birth! It wont even recognise itself in the mirror of public hostility as it steadily switches off all humans rights around the globe. Aided and abetted by Universal & Ubiquitously Vulnerable, Windows OS, of course.

Isn't it nice to know that these "broadcasting" wasters and their henchmen are largely responsible for countless poor people spending time in prison for not being able to afford the TV license? You remember BBC TV? The "public service" broadcaster with about as much public service as the mafia. Where democracy of the right to public access to discuss programming and to enjoy the freedom of creative expression is as exclusive as any Royal Family's right to endless handouts. Plus all the free accommodation and TOTAL PRIVACY in multiple palaces, estates and exclusive holiday destinations with servants.

Do you ever wonder why someone <cough> earning a fortune has exclusive rights to privacy not enjoyed  by their "lesser mortals?" Doesn't the ridiculous pay level recognise some responsibility to their adoring [brain dead] fans to share more than a few, deliberately released, compromising images to maintain headline stories? Anything to sell the next tawdry film, pop-porn video or talentless album, and the next. Can any of them "act," "dance" or "sing" with all their clothes on?

Friday 21st 61F, 16C, very heavy overcast, but mostly dry and it may be brighter later. If I don't get a ride soon I shall go bananas. Did you see the video of the chap in the US, shooting selfish ape's vans? They parked across two private driveways to reach the trees, just because they can. The police took the driveway owner away for endangering vehicle tyres with a loaded banana. I'd have arrested the apes with the van for deliberate obstruction.

Banana rights, eh? Can't live with them. Can't live without them. The apes are probably still hiding up in the trees according to the video. And don't give me any of that nonsense about loss of habitat! The bloke with the banana was the [sore] loser. It's a slippery slope when you start carrying bananas in the streets. [Or to college!] All they need for instant banana control is a simple mental test: If you want a banana you're not fit to own one! Send in the next patient, please?

Slightly too warm for my walk along the lanes but it was windier than forecast. I shall of course be seeking compensation for hurt feelings. A flurry of swallows was practicing its acrobatics but not with the same vigour and discipline of the other day. Yesterday's wet weather had ensured mass casualties of slugs on my traditional and well worn route beside the verge. Had I know in advance I could have worn my alpine gaiters. No ride today.

Saturday 22nd 64-72F,18-22C, cloudy to overcast with bright periods and light winds. Walked to the village and back. Light traffic but heavy on swallows. Trike shopping beckons! A headwind going. More of a crosswind coming back laden.  Saw several riders out training, single and in small groups. The T de F procession is over for another year. Did anybody win? 15 miles.

Sunday 23rd 60-66F, 15C, heavy overcast with a breeze. It was barely half past seven when I set off, picking my way carefully through all the slugs. Another splatter fest for these creatures which will shortly inherit the earth. Depressed and suppressed were acceptable terms for this morning's toddle. The  birds seemed fewer and more distant than usual. The dull, flat light seemed almost to press down on the landscape. Removing the usual joy and delight of multi-coloured, rolling fields interspersed with trees, hedges, copses and forest. The sparkle seemed to have gone out of it all today.

The forecast is for a very wet day with thundery showers and possible cloudbursts. Hence my early stroll along the lanes before the DMI's dire, early radar warnings dump themselves quite literally, all over us. Torrential rain, with local flashes and loud thunder, arrived at 10.50am. It dried up later allowing me to potter about outside. Now I am back indoors the swallows are swooping round and around in the garden. If they get the midges which bit us both earlier then that will be a win.

If you reached this far and remain in some doubt: "Bananas" is a reference to the statement of anger by the gentleman who shot the overhead workman's vans for [unnecessarily] blocking his driveway. Videoed live and widely distributed.

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19th July 2017 Getting it off my [treasure] chest.


Wednesday 19th 58F, 14C, sunny, bright and clear with a light breeze moving the trees. It could be as warm as 25C [77F] later, possibly with thunderstorms. I am aching all over from yesterday's activities. A walk will help and I'll have to put in a requisition for a bit of R&R on the trike.

I see Their Royal Oil Fences in Saudi Arabia are troubled by beggars pretending to be poverty stricken council road sweepers. The sweepers work 18 hours a day in sweltering heat but get paid less per year than a single, gold thread in the solid gold and diamond encrusted dish of disposable napkins on the the solid gold dining tables in the umpteen, priceless marble and gold, Royal palaces. With more garages each, full of priceless supersportscars, than any humble, American, TV evangelist.

Denmark solved such low pay problem simply enough. By getting rid of all the council road sweepers and all their sweeping machines during the most recent recession. They spent the scrap money on tasteless daubs by Danish modern <cough> artists and Danish architect designer furniture for all their [latest] Town Halls. Which are often modernized from striking, but failed company buildings by Eastern European workers. Who have to sleep on-site and work 8 days a week in exchange for handing their wages back to their <cough> mafia employers. All for the privilege of being brought here in the back of a smuggler's lorry. Along with all the trafficked girls for the highly popular and no doubt extremely lucrative, Danish prostitution trade.

We once stopped the car in a quiet, city cul-de-sac for a nice cup of tea and a Danish pastry. We were overlooked by the huge, Odense police station. It took but a few moments to realise that we were in a <cough> hotbed of prostitution. With clients cruising back and forth in their cars as they waited for the next "member of staff" to become available.

Trafficked women who go to the police for help are put on the next plane home without a penny. Perhaps they should be advised to become a hate preacher at one of the highly popular, invader's mosques. That way they can stay for years and are completely and utterly untouchable. Provided, of course, they can keep the child abuse and mutilation an open secret.

I hear all the Danish women's shelters are so choc-a-block that there is a years-long waiting list. With many desperate customers having to be sent to distant hostels. Well, that's post-benign socialism for you. Same taxes, just far, far fewer options.

It was already a very warm 67F by the time I returned from my golden, rural walk. Fortunately I had roadside shade trees to take off the worst excesses of this crippling heat wave. The two seater Mercedes sports car driver was following his usual [pathetic] line on the same blind corner. Namely overshooting by 6' beyond the double white lines to put him almost completely in the opposite lane. As is his daily habit. And I kid you not.

The odd thing is that he looks like a miserable old version of me but is obviously a much poorer driver. If I overshot a single corner I'd sign up for an intensive advanced driver training course and extended therapy sessions. Other's driving standards are obviously pitifully lower than mine. Well, there's always the insurance to carry the expense of off-roading [in the opposite lane.] What 's a modest speeding fine to the owner of a Mercedes sports car? Particularly when one's reputation, as the fastest, miserable old fart in the village, is at stake?

I hear iRottenapple, of tax free, iPhoney slave production fame, is building at least one [entirely self-serving] server center in Denmark. The facility is expected to consume almost half of Denmark's daily, normal electricity production. The local <cough> sub station covers the equivalent of thousands of village football pitches. When they still existed as such. The Danes are now much too obese to be running about with a ball. Their former playing fields have largely gone over to intensive industrial pig farming to the benefit of the small village mentality.

As a personal favour to this week's [authoritarian] Danish PM, iRottenapple have promised, on pain of massive fines, never to use their literally vast quantities of excess heat for domestic home heating within the Danish national borders. Just in case they start competing with the offshore, hedge fund owned, coal fired power stations. So they [iRottenapple] may well be hoping to sell their excess heat to a grateful Germany via an insulated pipeline laid entirely at Danish taxpayers' expense. Though the labour for the entire project will probably be provided by imported [trafficked] slaves. As is the norm in the EU these days.

It seems that there are not enough windmills already to upset the remaining locals. So iRottenapple is building a massive wind farm to further blight the entire area. No doubt astronauts of the near future will be competing to photograph the server center from space as it glows white hot against the pitch black of the usually deserted [and empty] Danish, rural landscape.

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18 Jul 2017

18th July 2017 Dog sniffing dogs?

Tuesday 18th 58-66F, 14-19C, heavy overcast,  but dry, with a threat of sunshine later. Just another day in paradise. There was a piece on the Gravely  Blighted TV news about a need for dog sniffer dogs [sic] to replace the present drug sniffing dogs. Instead of starting each day with a line of coke, the dog, sniffer dogs are desperately needed to bust the import of illegal, puppy-farmed hairy mutts for the mutts who cannot afford a 'real' one , probably because of all their other habits. 
I'd cut out the middle dog and have dog chip readers in every mobile 'iWotsit.' If the dog's chip fails to register then you should have the legal right to hit the mutt's owner with your laptop or oversized iPhoney 12½, or whatever. Hope this helps?

Evil LOTR extras dressed as ducks.

Time for a walk before I get into any more trouble. Wish me luck! I'm a potential martyr to every drunk, drug addled, deluded commuter with a mobile phone and an empty, bubble-packed ego. As I toddle along, as the close to the verge as I dare in my [charity shop] expeditionary boots. What with killer deer bugs, killer slugs and wolves roaming wild it might actually be safer on the asphalt!

Luckily, it occurred to me at the very beginning of my morning, [dangerous sports] walks to carry some ID. Just in case one of the registered and multiply-banned, drunken sociopaths fails to notice me during a sexting session in his black, two seater Mercedes. As he makes his daily attempt at the Danish Land Speed Record for passing a junior school. He needs a very long run up which passes along my usual route. I just pray I don't end up being roasted on a spit, as road kill, by the local sports club at their annual, overnight, pop festival!

In breaking news: It seems the Danish killer slugs have competition from invading, edible snails. The expert's advice was to take them out with a shovel or garden spade. So I am wondering exactly how large these snails are supposed to be! I have warned The Head Gardener that it will be her responsibility to act as referee in the coming battles as a sort of token, International branch of the Red Cross. Though it seems highly likely to be a rather one-sided affair if the snails can crush the slugs simply by rolling over them!

Well, that was a complete flop!  I arrived at the marsh pond on cue. The costume department had me kitted out as the local tramp. I needed no earpiece prompter to help me with my lines as I prepared for my greatest walk on part..

But will it fly?

When suddenly there were more evil extras, all around me, than a bad dose of LOTR. A thousand immature ducks burst into uproarious laughter at my outlandish garb. As a cross between Dr.Who and Worzel Gummidge, I had thought myself suitably attired for my part. But they were having none of it! So I took a quick snap of the set [for posterity] and beat a hasty retreat. Before there were fatalities to their withering strafes of derision.

Just in time too, as I spotted a Colossal class, [Claas?] agricultural spraying machine. It was very obviously headed my way with evil intent. That certainly explained the strange odour as I entered the field track. At first I had thought it was just me staying in character. But, with my poor sense of smell, it might well have been another, dead cat. So, all in all, not a great morning so far. Far too busy for a ride today.

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17 Jul 2017

15th July 2017 It's never just about the new Audi!


Saturday 15th 50-66F, 10-19C, bright and clear. A walk along the lanes to capture a few pictures of yesterday's harvesting. The fields were covered in spaced lines of golden hay. No ride today.

Sunday 16th 58-65F, 14-18C, heavy overcast with rain or showers promised. It was horribly wet all morning and then well into the afternoon.  In the absence of floats on my trike, nor even a wet suit to my name, I decided to take the easy option. By avoiding going out all together.

Monday 17th 59-66F, bright and breezy becoming more cloudy. Another busy day but I was allowed out for my vital, morning walk and a late afternoon ride, of 7 miles, to the shops.

It seems I am well in touch with my inner self. At least, I am  according to a Netflix documentary. Walking in the countryside is like meditating but without the usual distractions. One can become aware of all that surrounds us without the fidgeting and constant resetting of one's consciousness. Or that sort of thing. One could say I rely more on intuition and emotional choices than cold logic. Which [apparently] makes me a better balanced person. 'Balance' being the most important aspect of tricycling on, or off road. I am, and always was, willing to risk failure.

I owe it all to the swallows and skylarks and even the farmers as I wallow in my warm bath of Danish, rural nature. Mind as blank as the next enticing page of an essay "exercise" book as I plod along with less than urgent haste. Though I understand that little or no "exercise" is necessary these days. Largely because of the deformities caused to young people by the sheer weight of their laptops on the curriculum. Not to mention the universal spinal curvature so common to the latest generations.

It seems my obsession with tricycling is well and truly over. For which I can warmly thank one paranoid schizophreniac on the triking forum. Where I was the endlessly patient, polite, benign and hopeful moderator but an [alleged] tyrant to one, sick individual. Empathy, and a weird sense of humour, is in short supply amongst many of us, it seems. Where violence is becoming the norm. Even amongst investment bankers and [quite recently] the priesthood.

I can still ride my trike fast enough to satisfy my modest ambitions but now have absolutely no idea of my potential range. I usually managed around 85 miles or 130km at least once a year. Such distances always assume that the distance can be covered from beyond a leisurely breakfast while still returning before dark. The drive to achieve such distances is now all but gone. Thank goodness! The Head Gardener is no longer a tricycling widow. A mixed misfortune, at best, because she must now suffer my presence for infinitely more hours than in the past. Now I must pretend to hide on the computer, in my dormer window looking out onto the garden trees, or in the equally untidy shed.

I have recently had my first "falling off" in years. In fact the first since my return to tricycling and all those tens of thousands of miles managed unscathed. Back then I twice fell off onto grass after leaving the tarmac in a hurry. Finding soft ground a poor substitute with regards to lateral stability is apt to lead to a diagonal 'header.' The ground is always a long way down on a trike. You can't just lay it over and slide. It needs to tumble along its ground contact, hinge lines.

Tricycling cured my eyesight. Instead of staring at the foreground, at work and being unable to read a clock on the wall without glasses. My vision now settled habitually on distance and I need only a pair of £5 supermarket "reading glasses" to function normally. As far as 'normal' is an apt term for yours truly. 'Normal' is a term subject to considerable misinterpretation.

It is odd to think that I spent years suffering from my tricycling excesses. Not just the constant leg pain from their daily abuse of the flailing pedals. But my back, my shoulders and my hands demanded almost constant notice for their own pain. All those miles were not without their real and human toll. The rewards must have been well in excess of the negatives or I would have ceased long ago and retired almost literally to my retiree's "death bed." Household names seemed to be dropping like flies so my own mortality could not be that far flung from reality.

I spent almost as many hours writing about my exploits as doing them. Initially I had used my blog to maintain my interest and daily distances. It was one of my survival ploys after I was "let go" [at the age of 63 with piss poor Danish skills and little else to commend me] by my Danish/multinational employers. As they took over and then exported an entire factory full of real lives for a better Audi and probably a larger house on a hideous modern "executive" estate. It wasn't just the sacking of the entire workforce, of course, but its impact on the entire semi-rural community, its ecosystem and its surprisingly fragile economy.

Local shops and services no longer enjoyed their traditional customer base. The empty souls who wandered between bullying sessions at the local <cough> Job Center and pointless courses 30 miles away only exacerbated the problem. The Job Centers literally had no local jobs to offer. None. Zero. Zilch. Bugger all.

This all coincided with a rise in right wing politicooze as the Danes desperately tried to slow the influx of foreign invaders. Their race memories of Vikings and Danes exploits abroad now long forgotten. Suddenly every crook, spiv and 'chancer' had the ear of the truly desperate Danes.

They, the Danes, had worked hard all their lives just to pay the highest taxes in the world. Their reward was benign socialism from outdoor cradle to an early [smoker's and drinker's] grave. Now there was a mosque on every corner and the aliens were being freely handed all the social housing. All without so much as a single minute's contribution! Instead of a grudging pidgin "mange tak" the invaders were downright uppity. They wore their traditional dress and demanded the Danes did so as well! Or they would [allegedly] send "the terrorists" around to practice their atrocities before going off to war against guess who?

Yes, that's right, The Danes in the international <cough> peacekeeping corpse. Who, despite putting their lives on the line every day and night are taxed. Just so that Denmark can afford to pay these very same IS terrorists their Danish social security. Denmark was required by international and EU law to send overseas social security clerks to the front line to ensure the terrorists get their entitlements despite not actively seeking work in Denmark. Unemployed Danes, even wounded, ex-service people have their social security cut off after two years. But not the IS fighters. All thanks to benign Danish socialism.

Meanwhile the "alien's" kids constantly start fires in the social apartment blocks and throw stones at the firemen who come to put the fires out! Later they would form cosy gangs and take over the drugs trade from the nasty Danish rockers. Before starting armed wars with each other to gain territory or just to protect their threatened sales patch.

On those rare days, away from their personal grindstones, the Danes would find the shops full of foreign invaders. Spending their generous social security which the Danes had paid for in blood, sweat, tears and endless disappointment over the long decades of benign but tight-fingered and intrinsically authoritarian socialism. Now, with the right wing firmly in charge, there is even less money to spend on "SERVICES". So unskilled labour finds itself without yet another avenue of exploration for highly competitive unemployment. If there is such demand for the unemployed then why are they so poorly paid compared with [say] the politicooze? Few of whom seem to have ever held down a real job.

My "own" factory closure naturally coincided with others as the moneyed stashed their ill gotten, tax free gains of-shore as fast as they exported all the real jobs to China or Russia or any other slave wage economy. Soon only weeds thrived and expanded on the newly deserted industrial estates. Around which I pedaled optimistically job seeking almost daily for three years before official retirement as the local, tricycling clown.

Compulsory job seeking [even in an employment  vacuum] had its price. I would ride out in my tricyclist's clowns outfit at temperatures down to -10C. That was before I found secondhand winter cycling togs in the charity shops. The agony of cold hands and feet should not be underestimated in the unemployment statistics but never seem to feature.

As I pedaled around the wastelands of my little bit of Denmark I saw the village shops, with long decades of local service, were suddenly all gone. All of them! The previously fat, estate agents desperately tried to pretend all was still well. By filling the newly haunted windows with their own [unsold] wares. "For sale" signs outside rural homes slowly faded to illegibility. To match the mood of the totally non-existent, buyers. Buyers, if any,  who had no need, or desire, to pay the market price. They had only to wait long enough!

Forced home auctions became the norm after years of highly visible neglect. Family dreams died in exchange for an absolute pittance from impoverished "first timers" and a few developers. The latter would abuse Eastern European workers, at [illegal] Eastern European wages, to 'tart up' these former family homes into liberally whitewashed rental properties.

Meanwhile the unsold "properties" [homes and businesses] dragged down the whole area. As Japanese Knotweed replaced the rows of bedding plants, neat lawns and discounted supermarket shrubs. The same lawns were soon long beyond the help of a mere, inherited and knackered petrol mower. They sorely needed a modestly sized harvester and baler to make any real impression. The hedges grew so tall that birds nests easily outnumbered the remaining inhabitants.

Home buyers are constant improvers. They want to show off their assets and impress others of their taste and wealth. Even if it means borrowing against their assets to do so. In the absence of home buyers the DIY and furniture stores suffer. Foreign money bought up all the DIY outlets and stripped away all the "interesting" stuff. To be replaced with highly profitable, identical bubble packs on identical racks. So another branch suffers steady decline, a complete lack of choice and far fewer skilled staff are required or retained.

Builders suffer too and many vans and offices vanished from the daily scene. Once thriving garages and workshops find their customer base becomes smaller and much more demanding. The obvious crooks go first but the trend is always downwards.

Meanwhile the politicooze, on their private 1st Class, neo-Louis 14th, non-stop, gravy train, play their endless games of musical chairs. And play their parts as talking heads with the mutually parasitic media. The politicooze has no answers to life's real problems. Religion, outside the alien invader's ghettos, had no new new answers either. So the Danes voted with their feet but forgot to turn off the central heating boilers. All either superstition could ever offer were the same, old simplistic lies. As they endlessly hiked their own salaries and fiddled their expenses to maintain their crooked and/or deluded egos. I find it best to ignore them in the interests of what remains of my sanity. I was never much one for celebrity worship.

If you still adhere to any semblance of what passes for modern reality then I suggest you simply move to another country. And then see how important the News from Home actually seems. But remember, you are far more likely to die on the roads than from any "breaking news."

What you do with your own body is <cough> largely your own business. Just don't expect me to pick up the tab when your shit hits assorted fans simultaneously. Exercise of mind and body requires an expectation of some suffering. But at least you know, with every fiber of your being, that you are still alive! If everybody else, on Earth, is put there as an example to others... then why the hell would you copy any of them? Least of all me! 😎

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10 Jul 2017

10th July 2017 The Juvenile problem.


Monday 10th 59-66F,15-19C, calm and bright with a milky sky. Cloud and rain possible this afternoon. Walked to the village. There were a few showers but I was too busy for a ride.

"Overcast" was too boring. I was feeling arty, so I'm calling this one: "An excess of cloud." Just to be pretentious.

I had to blur out a magnificent, soaring Red kite in the foreground. Just in case any Scottish landowners became overwhelmed by their zombie money blood lust.

Tuesday 11th 59F, 15C, overcast and breezy. Rain or showers forecast for most of today and tomorrow.

Walked along the empty rural lanes. Juvenile Blue tits were dangling upside down from roadside trees just to show off to each other. Next week they'll be gang members and hanging about on village corners.

The traffic was light enough to allow me inner circumspection in the lulls between chronic tyre noise and bouts of intense and physical self-preservation. Some cheeky swallows were resting on the asphalt and they pay NO road taxes [N]OR insurance! Where will it all end? Probably with short, sharp showers. Today, I have mostly been a martyr to damp hair. I didn't get where I am...

Tesla announces production of its cheaper electric car. Thanks to hefty import taxes it is expected to cost the equivalent of several millions of US dollars in Denmark. Sales of all electric vehicles in Denmark are expected to remain at absolute zero for the foreseeable future. This is [according to an anonymous Danish government spokesperson] to prevent [quote] any "Tree hugging, hippy, Danish eco warriors from ever getting their hands on an electric car!" [My exclamation mark.]

All Climate science is currently treated as a major terrorist offense in Denmark. With life imprisonment, without parole, the automatic sanction for merely uttering the term "AGW" in a public place. The Konservative government has already sent messages of congratulation to President Dump for threatening to pull out of the "ridiculous" Paris climate accord.

In breaking climate news: A Danish power station is being modified to the tune of a billion Danish Kroner to burn <cough> imported wood chips from Canada. The power station is surrounded in fields producing big bales for <cough> burning in power stations. Edit: It seems some of the wood chips would come from Poland and other Eastern European states. The EU is presently hauling Poland before the courts for felling its forests.

A billion kroner towards the democratization of Danish energy production, with local, domestic solar, would go a very long way towards Denmark meeting its CO2 reduction commitments.  Particularly if the power was used to charge batteries in <cough> electric vehicles. One can only assume that centralized energy production is a <cough> "nine little earner." Is the CO2 cost of shipping imported fuels half way around the globe included in the importing country's climate tab? [Where a "tab" is a debt to be repaid, with massive interest, by our grandchildren.]

Wednesday 12th 57F, 14C, heavy overcast but calm. Overnight rain is expected to continue with wind and brightening later. It must be an age thing. There was the threat of rain in the air as I walked towards the village. One moss covered house ridge was dotted at intervals with sparrows and swallows. No ride today.

Thursday 13th 55F, clear, sunny and breezy. Enjoyed a short walk in breezy sunshine. Another busy day avoiding tricycling.

Friday 14th 57F, 14C, breezy with a bright milky sky. Showers possible. Short walk along the lanes. The crops are all changing colour as they ripen. Rode my usual Saturday route. Only 16 miles trying to keep my cadence high. Progress was being made on a new cycle path but not yet surfaced. The contractors seem to be laying drainage and service under the cycle path to avoid digging up the roads.
Saw a couple of buzzards. Chased two Teslabikers for a few miles. Rather breezy but it didn't spoil the pleasure of a ride in the gorgeous countryside. An elderly gentleman on a bike stopped outside a shop to say he was disappointed with this summer's temperatures. If it's not over 20C then it's not a real summer, apparently.

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It wont be any better. Just BIGGER!

8 Jul 2017

7th July 2017 It's [all] fluffy, man!


Friday 7th 60-68F, 16-20C, rather cloudy but almost calm with showers possible. There was some light rain as I walked to the far woods. A wonderful peace seemed to have settled over the brimming crops. As swallows chased each other just above the fluffy heads of grain. My camera seemed to be struggling with the low light levels. Producing a rather soft focus effect under the dense canopy of the beech woods. The undergrowth sprawled its untidiness everywhere to conceal familiar, small, field ponds from view. A keen cyclist passed me on a TT bike with a following car, carrying spare machines with disk wheels.

Later afternoon ride, climbing and descending via the forest. Which looked absolutely gorgeous through yellow glasses. Free sunshine under grey skies. I passed a hunting bird of prey with long, narrow wings with black tips. Marsh harrier? Only ten miles.

Saturday 8th 60F, 15C, heavy overcast, light winds, threat of showers. I was allowed out for my usual Saturday morning ride. Quite windy going both ways. Saw a couple of nice, classic cars and a Red kite. Not necessarily in that order. Using the cadence reading to maintain my revs. I'm getting [almost] used to 8 presses of the single computer button to reach Cadence but it's not exactly instant gratification. 16 miles.

Sunday 9th 56F, 13C, bright and sunny all day but comfortably warm. Too busy for a ride.

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6 Jul 2017

5th July 2017 TeslaBoys and Girls.


Wednesday 5th 60F, 16C, bright, but rather cloudy, with variable wind. It sounds as if Volvo has no plans to sell any cars in Denmark from 2019 onward. Volvo is only building electric cars from that point on. Unless some billionaire Dane plans to have a go at The Guinness Book of Records, Volvo doesn't have a hope in burning climate hell of ever selling a single electric car here. Not with present import taxation of 7000% and only one [token] charging station in the whole country and that only takes Nigerian Bitcoins.

Where AGW is concerned one has to judge any government by its actions. Not by its [ever] hot][ter] air at the global climate feasts. You'd think the lack of need for winter salting of the roads would pay for an electric vehicle, import tax reduction, but no. "They" are saving hard for a third, coal-fired aircraft carrier instead. Just to show tiny Denmark's unique importance as a major military power. [Using imported North Korean coal, for fuel, no less!]  You'd think that nice Ms Margrethe Westager would sue Denmark for a lack of commitment to CO2 reduction competition. 😎

In Breaking Climate News: The Danish Prime Minister has announced that henceforth Denmark will burn only McLardy's litter in all its many, coal burning, power stations. This is instead of importing Polish timber chippings, as kindling, exclusively by air freight. It seems there were complaints from Danish farmers about all the wind turbines spreading sawdust far and wide. The sawdust was mixing with all the pig's manure and forming a hard crust on their fields. Too busy for a ride today.

Thursday 6th 50-68F, 10-20C, calm and sunny with thin, high milky cloud. I was just reading that Denmark, like Germany and Holland is seeing electric cycles as an increasingly large fraction of all new cycle sales. Denmark is still behind the 25% electric bike sales of the other two countries but expected to match them soon.

Electric cycles are becoming established as normal transport rather than primarily for the elderly and infirm. Image is vitally important to those transferring their loyalties to the battery bikes. Particularly if they come from a cycle sport/club training background. So pedaling to make progress may be another important factor in equipment choice.

Buyers are probably not looking for an electric motorcycle or scooter so much as a battery driven bicycle with normal pedal assistance. The fitness aspect from continuing exercise is desired to match their reduced levels of fitness. My own feeling is that many battery bikes are still very expensive. A scooter with internal combustion engine, suspension, disk brakes and gearbox is a far more sophisticated yet often cheaper option. Many electric cycles look [to me] like recycled, old-fashioned, heavyweight roadsters. With add-on electric components almost as an afterthought. Many seem not to have given a second thought to carriage of shopping or parcels. There are some very expensive motorized "mountain bikes" around. A cross between road and off-road to suit those who demand more aggressive styling for the run to the local shops.

There has been a rash of accidents where older riders find the increased performance of electric motors rather too much for their limited skills and increased reaction times. I have seen a few "hairy" moments where Tesla boys and girls have pushed the limits when cornering fast in wet and slippery conditions. On a normal bike they would never have been travelling at a speed which would have put them in danger. Like all new forms of transport it will take a while for the Darwin statistics to settle down. Elderly [motor] bikers, buying the latest high performance 200mph motorcycles are [probably] far more likely to kill themselves.

At this point I really can't recommend an electrically assisted,  sporting tricycle. The cornering is far too "iffy" to make the conversion a particularly safe project. Not without thousands of miles of pedal driven, triking experience first. Many people imagine trikes as inherently stable compared with wobbly bikes. Nothing could be further for the truth where lightweight trikes are concerned! Leaning trikes do make far more sense but are not universally available. It's far easier to throw some hefty water pipe together in Asia and flog it off to those who never knew any other kind of bicycle or tricycle.  

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3 Jul 2017

3rd July 2017 A cry for help?


Monday 3rd 60F, 16C, bright and rather cloudy with light winds. A wet and windy morning is forecast. Short walk with heavy showers not arriving until 10.15 am. Followed by thundery showers at lunch time and for hours afterwards. Still rumbling and flashing after 3pm.

There has been a lull in the carpet bombing of local verges with McLardy's packaging. I thought perhaps the perp had "suffered" a stroke when their grease trap had became completely blocked. Then the recent arrival of yet more litter made me wonder if takeaway litter was not a subconscious cry for help.

Are they trying to tell us that their addiction to junk food is slowly killing them? Is this the reason why drug addicts throw away their dirty needles in public places? Why smokers cast away their dog ends? "Help me? Because I cannot help myself?" Whatever.

The opiate plague seems to be a similar form of slow, global suicide. There cannot be a single person left on the planet who does not know the dangers of smoking, injecting, idling, drinking or eating their way to an early grave. It seems large numbers of the human race are opting out with a voluntary euthanasia contract with the Small Blue Dot. Good on 'em, I say. Don't let the pearly gates door hit you on the way out.

Why not make these nasty habits legal? Give them away if you like. Just don't bother to treat them in a hospital at "our" expense. We who eat sensibly, exercise, maintain a healthy weight and avoid "empty stimulants" wish you luck on your [much shortened] journey. Talking of which: Did you see the "beached whale" story in New XXXXXXL Jersey?

Tuesday 4th 55F,13C, bright, windy and rather cloudy. Expected to clear up with some sunshine. Walked my familiar route up to the woods and back the other way. I haven't done that route for quite a while. Only a solitary bird of prey to report. I was soon clogged up with muddy boots. The strong wind and heavy plates of cloud gave the woods a rather menacing atmosphere. Until the sun came out and the mood lifted.

Late ride to the shops. Thanks to the tailwind I cranked it up to 20mph for quite a distance. Only 10-16mph coming home again. 7 miles.

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1 Jul 2017

July 1st 2017 Excused trikes.

Saturday 1st July. 56F, 13C, light winds with a heavy grey overcast. The 24 hours of constant rain may be reduced to occasional showers but it seems darker now, at 7am, than at 11pm last night. It might brighten later. So I may still get my Saturday morning ride in, even if a trifle belated.

A walk to the village in decidedly soggy conditions after yesterday's rain. The usual crop of thousands of brown slugs were playing "chicken" in the road. Cheeky Swallows dived close past me for a bit of weekend fun but I refused to be intimidated.

Late morning ride to the shops. Cruising at 18-20mph with a tailwind on the way there. 8-19 mph coming back suitably laden. Used the tri-bars to push it back up to 11-12 mph. Brooks saddles are not ideal for such larks! I speak form personal experience. Flat saddle spines are best. Struggling to maintain high rpm these days. 16 miles. Mostly uphill.[ Going both ways.]

Sunday 2nd 58-66F, 14-19C, overcast and breezy. A rather cloudy day with 30mph gusts is forecast. There were showers in the morning. One of which had me turning back early from my walk. It became warm and sunny later but I was "excused trikes" on the grounds of responsibility to my ongoing garden project.

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