11.11.2023 North it is then.

 ~o~

 Saturday 11th 44F/7C. Overcast but dry. Woke at 7am after endless, weird dreams. The "fire bucket" was unused! Just as an experiment I did not even have any milk with dinner. My last drink yesterday was a mug of tea at 5.30pm. 

8.45 Time for a walk. I shall wear the Sorel boots. Just to see if I get a repeat of the wet, right foot feeling. I shall avoid puddles. Just walking on the damp ground. Thin socks instead of the usual thick wool.

 9.45 The pond on the back field has doubled in size. While the drainage beck is higher, faster and much easier to see. The puddles are above the level of the beck so there is plenty of room for more drainage. Provided the 40cm drainpipe, which passes under the new earthworks, can manage the flow. The Sorel boots felt cool but not wet. Probably due to the thin socks I deliberately wore. I usually wear thicker, loop pile, wool socks from the farmer's shop in the cooler months of the year.  

 I need a plan for today. The wind is very light. Potential showers are mostly well outside my area of interest. A ride is possible, but where? I have a modest shopping list.  

 I now have a goal. A large, indoor flea market in a village to the north. Open at weekends only. About 25km away. I am trying to load the Nyon with the route from Google Maps via my phone. Just for a bit of fun. 

 It is always interesting to see how it copes. Not to mention the somersaults it demands if one goes off route. Yet re-calculates if you do change your mind along the way. All the while displaying a map with the most incredible detail. Garden ponds, carports, greenhouses, etc.  

I like the symmetry and detail of this old farmhouse.

 14.00 48F/9C. Back from a 57km ride. It was overcast and cold but dry. With light winds. My hands were getting colder and colder in GripGrab's warmest normal gloves. Fortunately I had taken a pair of their split mitts just in case. These provided instant comfort once I stopped to change them.  

I wasn't exactly warm for most of the journey. Tights under my shorts. With a thin, man-made cardigan over the short sleeved racing jersey. Under the Endura rain jacket. 

 Windproof but no thickness to hold the cold material away from my body. My hands may have been cold simply due to the blood being reduced to my extremities. My feet were more neutral in the Sorel boots. Though I shall wear the fur-lined Pumas next time.  

 There were countless large puddles or flooding on the fields. The narrow lanes were carpeted with fallen leaves. I didn't notice any slipperiness but took no chances on the corners. The autumn colours were rather subdued by the dark skies but no less beautiful. I was riding in a very hilly area for most of the time. More humpy than high or low. Very little traffic. Lots of hunters waiting patiently outside woods and copses. Though I heard not a single shot all day. 

 I quickly lost count of all the birds of prey I saw and heard. Dark and light. Brown and cream and white. One cream bird was sitting on the lane with a dark rodent in its beak. I disturbed it as I passed but it clung onto its precious prey. As it flew off effortlessly though the woods. 

 14.45 62F/17C in the room. I was going to have a nap but thought I'd better light the stove first. Since I was having to wait for the fire to catch I made a late lunch. 

 Dinner was fish in batter, pasta, peas and tinned tomatoes.

~o~