Yesterday evening had a decidedly monastic feel to it.
Huggy managed to convince me there would be rain of biblical proportions to endure so I togged myself up with waterproof jacket, faux denim Rainlegs and winter boots, which all amounted to the cyclist's equivalent of a hair shirt. Then of course there is my booze free November. And no bugger turned up. Abstinence, solitude and self flagellation.
The Friendly Fryer told me they shut their eat-in section at 9:30. I got there at 9:26 and it had "just shut" - apparently. So I had a bag of chips and a can of Coke sat in the bus shelter by the church in Maldon.
Still, it was a very pleasant ride. 40 miles, 542 metres of climbing (not entirely sure I trust my Garmin's ability to measure climbing) at a moving average of 13mph. As I went through Wickham Bishops for the first time the GPS crashed and would only be revived by ripping the batteries out and re-installing. Not sure whether the loopiness of the route caused the problem.
And it hardly rained at all.