![]() I’ve never heard anything quite like it (well, outside the industrial percussion Tom Waits used on Swordfishtrombones) and wondered how the residents had managed to sleep through this startled, constant alarm call. This wind must have been blowing in just the right direction and with just the right force to set all the lampposts along Silver Lonnen to a rhythmic, but raucous metallic clanging. ![]() I was gently impelled upwards by the wind at my back and made decent time. I took the closer river crossing over a prolonged battle with the elements and soon started to climb out of the valley. Meanwhile, the other was the gift that kept giving and streamed like a cataract. I wasn’t feeling too bad, but one nostril was painfully plugged and felt tighter than the sphincter on a deep-diving platypus. Having been snowbound last week, I feel I particularly need the ride, despite the less than ideal conditions and a streaming cold. Still, as I’m buffeted and bashed on the drop off the Heinous Hill, I’m certain that someone with at least half a clue and a workable plan will turn up – in fact I already have a fairly good idea of which of the Usual Suspects will be out and ready to laugh (quite literally) in the face of Storm Erik. Unfortunate, as the Hammer had planned the route and volunteered to lead. The conditions have already caused the Hammer and Aether to peek cautiously out from behind their bedroom curtains and declare it’s a “Too Wild to Ride” kind of day. ![]() Here we go then, surfing on the ragged coattails of Storm Erik, with the promise of high winds, gusts of up to 60mph and frequent rain. My Ride (according to Strava) Total Distance: ![]()
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