
I’ve been enjoying the snow and freezing temperatures. Riding in the snow can be great fun if you are properly prepared. You know, plenty of thin wicking layers, double socks, over shoes, skull cap, buff, double gloves – a thin pair under a thicker pair, and spare gloves in a rucksack. Talking of the rucksack I’m carrying spare gloves, a spare undershirt, foil blanket, all that on top of the usual tools and spares. I’m also carrying some spare food, and a moby. Plus i’ve detailed my route to Carla and I’m sticking to it. See, I’m riding on my own. It’s highly unlikely that I’ll see anyone. If I have a problem it could so easily turn into something serious in the sub zero temperatures. So i’m using my head and adopting some mountaineering thinking. But – EPIC FAIL!!! I forgot to put my helmet on!!!
I carefully donned all my kit, and sped off for a couple of hour around the forest. It was fanatsic. Most of the trails were virgin snow just deer tracks, and tracks left by other small animals and birds. I’m hammering along thinking that even if I do go down it will be OK because I’ll slide and be unhurt.
I arrive back at home feeling great. On a natural high. Calm, serene, all stress and aggression removed. I reach up to unbuckle my lid!!! Doh!!!





Backing up a bit – This is Big Jess the last dog we owned. We had her from 18 months old. We’d always had dogs, but Big Jess was a special dog, in my mind, the best dog that ever walked the face of the earth. You could take her anywhere she was so well behaved. You could leave her sat somewhere while you went in a shop, come back 20 minutes later, she’d still be there waiting patiently. Only difference being that she’d have gathered a bunch of admirers who’d insisit on telling you how fabulous she was, as if you didn’t already know. She was 13 when we lost her. I didn’t think I’d ever have a dog again. That was well over 10 years ago. I still think of her sometimes.

On 13th April we travelled to a village near Melle in the Poitou Charente to meet Rex. We were just going to meet him, that’s all, but as soon as I met him I knew he was the one. We met the owner’s sister, Madame Morin, who’d put him up for adoption. I asked her if she was happy for us to take Rex, I reassured her that we would take good care of him, and that she would be welcome to come and visit him. Madame Morin thought we were suitable, and a short while later Rex left the garden where he had lived for 10 years to start a new life in the Haute Vienne. There were tears all round.



