Shank's Pony

In an effort to allay any concerns that I am turning into a petrol head, today a new method of getting to work was used, Shank's Pony. I have been meaning to cycle to work (so taking a leaf from Andy from Germany's book) since having the office for Red Kite Fostering a mere 3.5 miles away. Riding a bike requires several things, firstly the obvious, a bike, and I am a proud owner of a nice shiny new(ish) racing bike courtesy of he who cannot be named who spent nearly two weeks wages on the beast to go a cycling holiday in Spain last year. Once off the air con comfort of the aircraft and having covered 100k in 100 degreeson the first day he and his fellow cyclist binned the idea of a road trip in the saddle and hired a car. On his return I snapped up the bargain bike and it has lain unmolested in the workshop ever since.
Since the great workshop clear out and thanks to Tracey, my beautiful and oh so patient wife remembering where the safe place was that I had put the front wheel spindle (too obvious to keep it with the wheel, no it was in the settle in the conservatory) the bike has been calling my name and goading me to use it.
The second thing needed to cycle to work is two arms, well I have two, and one is held together with space age mechanno and I haven't ridden a bike since my little accident of September 2007. I am pretty sure my arm would take the strain, but as yet its not had the chance, and my sub conscious must have been having kittens over my idea that today was the day to cycle as all night I had graphic and explicit dreams of picking myself up off the grey tarmac and collecting pieces of shattered left arm. This went on until I told myself that the bike ride was off and around 4am I watched the imaginary sheep jump over a crashed bike until I finally slept.
Having decided that bike riding was the future I was a bit subdued over my breakfast tea and toast until the bright idea of walking to work came to the fore. By road its 3.5 miles, by Bonsai Mountain its a shade over 3.4. If I cycled I would have to walk the first .4 as our track is not built for Racing bikes with wafer thin wheels. Decision made I packed a rucksack, donned my wild weather gear as just to make things interesting it was pouring with rain.

The collage at the top is the journey there, while the one above is back again. It took just over an hour to get there and an hour and ten to get back. On the way I met one other person who was walking Offas Dyke, on the way back I met several more who were heading down to bed and breakfasts and a well earned pint. I have to be honest and say that I wont walk every day, but the plan is to do it at least once a week, and if the sub conscious allows the bike will be used as well. You can click on the collages and they supersize:)