Bit of a washed out club ride today.
"It rained and it rained and it rained. Piglet told himself that never in all his life, and he was goodness knows how old—three, was it, or four?—never had he seen so much rain. Days and days and days."
And so it was that already some of the group had abandoned by the point where I met them. We had agreed a truncated route, but even that was beginning to look unappealing.
We rode to Hirn, and then along the back road behind Banchory, passing the hairy coos. There is a paddock of heavy horses here too. They stood stock still, their mighty heads bowed low to the ground, water dripping off them. The looked not unlike my companions. One by one, riders peeled off, making their own soggy way home whatever way seemed best to them. And then there were two. At Raemoir, Paul went left towards Torphins, and I went right towards Garlogie and home, making for a modest 45k.
The road up Cullerlie is unrecognisable now that all the trees are gone. The stone circle remains, inscrutable as ever, indifferent to the rains it has endured thousands of times before.
And so back home. Never underestimate the therapeutic benefits of several hundred litres of hot water.
https://www.strava.com/activities/11500347860
