Twenty Three

Day twenty three of thirty.

Cycled over the fields down by the Forth at Alloa until I could cycle no further (without buoyancy aids and an outboard).

Wound my way home the scenic route enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, dodging the hunners of walkers, runners, pram pushers, dogs, cyclists that were out doing the same.

Nice and relaxed until a car pulled across my lane and into a junction at the same time as I was turning into it, cutting me up and forcing me nearly over the kerb. He'd looked straight at me too, knew I was there. Realised that when I shouted, tourettedly and rather loudly,  "Fuckin' arsehole!" at him through his open passenger window I was passing a a row of houses whose windows were all wide open too. Oops.

I blame the heat. And the fucking arseholes. 

Think I'll cycle another route tomorrow.

#30DaysOfBiking