A day of contrasts today - a thoroughly depressing TV experience this morning (which had me considering my own mortality, which really isn't me at all) convinced me that, cold or not, a good ride to a local biker caff was called for, in order to clear my head a little, then on the way I saw a biker down, ambulance in attendance.
When I arrived at the Café, I bumped into a lady - I'm guessing she was somewhere in her mid-70's (but I'm really terrible at guessing ages - she could have been anywhere between 18 and 152), but she was absolutely inspiring - not only was she there on the HRD Vincent she had rebuilt from boxes of parts 50 years ago, but the bike was covered in stickers from loads of the countries she had visited on the bike over a lifetime of biking adventures. I may have misunderstood the timescales, but I think she said that she had ridden to New Zealand a couple of years ago. She does all of her own maintenance and owns a variety of bikes. She is still riding further, alone and unsupported, than I have ever done.
Had I been 30 years older. And single. And attractive to the opposite gender... Who knows, eh? Thoroughly inspiring and amazing lady.
