The Winged Wheel.

Today was my longest cycle ride so far this year at 86 miles, and extremely exhausting it was too even though it was not very far by my standards. This does not bode well for, in one month I pay my annual homage to cycle racing. As the Tour de France comes to a close, I will be competing in the British championship 24 hour time trial; I won't win it but, more significantly to me, I might not finish propping up the result sheet. The winner will probably be less than half my age and might cover over five hundred miles while I will be lucky to do three hundred.

Because of the recent difficulties with straightening out The Old Lady's affairs, my preparation has been conspicuous by it's absence; ten days ago, my mileage for the year stood at a mere 1300 (my lowest at this stage for many years), and my weight at nearly ten and a half stone was a stone heavier than it should be. The good news is that in those ten days I've lost 4 pounds so I may, at least, arrive at the start weighing the correct amount.

Today's run was a bit of an experiment, a new destination/lunch stop and a new cycle path, neither worked out well and suffered the major disadvantage of not including an afternoon coffee stop. We did, however, see a filling station in Forth advertising coffee, it was both very cheap and, after sampling it, we realised that it was not worth the money. It was in the village that we passed this winged wheel, freshly painted by one of our members last autumn. The Wheel is the original badge of the Cyclists' Touring Club and enamelled versions were commonly used to designate approved cafes, B&Bs and cycle shops; most of them have rusted away but there are still a few cast iron examples around, most of them still looking splendid.