It doesn't get much better than this. Dry, warm, hardly any wind and when there was it usually gave help. All those wonderful secret valleys in Dorset that don't seem to have a way out and yet there's some narrow twisting strip of tarmac between high banks that does. Bluebell woods, wild garlic everywhere, all the crisp new green leaves. Controls just when you need them, serving hot food (especially the chicken soup at Corscombe). The legs, after a winter spent in The Hague, Netherlands, remembered how to climb hills, especially that rather lovely new addition after Ebbsbourne Wake. Tree pollen, that usually affects me this time of year, didn't. It was warm enough at night not to get chilled on the descents. The roads elsewhere have deteriorated so fast that the Wessex ones seemed almost good in comparison.
I've quite clearly passed into an alternate universe, or accidentally consumed a Lolly Gobble Bliss Bomb, the sweet that transports you to the place of your dreams.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDzkA9ntyVIUntil then. Thanks Shawn and helpers.
