Wrecked

Because there seemed no chance of getting frostbite on the bike today, I met some of the cycling group at Fisherrow harbour for the outing to Bolton near Haddington.
It was a beautiful day for cycling: blue skies, sunshine and a light west wind ( which unfortunately seemed rather cold and less than light on the way home - twas ever thus).
After hot drink and a bit of chat in Longniddry, I left the group and went solo to Bolton so that I could stop and take photos. I didn't have my new toy with me as it is much too cumbersome to carry on my person while cycling, but my small digital filled the bill nicely.
I have to confess that it's so much easier taking photos while ambulant. Hopping on and off a bike can be very taxing.

It was so relaxing cycling on these quiet country roads through Trabroun, Samuelston and Bolton on my own knowing that I wasn't holding anyone back by stopping and starting. My only concern with being alone is the dreaded P for Puncture.
Now I can and have mended several punctures, but only in the confines of the castle, and even then there was much swearing and sweating and gnashing of teeth. My tyres are very difficult to get off and put back on and so I have devised a menu of 3 options should the problem arise without a bike shop in sight.
a) Just knuckle down and mend it at the side of the road with tears, sweat and bloodied nails b) Try the damsel in distress mode of operation and sit weeping noisily until a Sir Galahad comes along and helps out. c) Walk the bike to the nearest bus stop, tether it to a tree, bus it home and return later to retrieve it.
Fortunately I have been lucky so far..........but I do carry a big handkie for the tears.

I returned home via Port Seton and found this wrecked boat above the tide line.
I rather liked the faded colours and the overwhelming dereliction.