Out of the village and go. There is no other traffic, the road is all mine. There are a handful of bikers at the site of the old Hartside cafe doing their own Solstice ride. They invite me along to join them for a ride down to Longmeg, but I decline, there is a beer in fridge back home calling to me.
The ride back is magical. The cloud has lifted allowing late evening sunlight to flood the land reflecting the golden flowers in the high meadows. Nothing moves except lapwings, curlews and a litre class bike. Cronkley Scar takes my breath away as it always does.
And home, night night Jeeves, hello Warsteiner.

You really should have been there 🙂

Sounds perfick 👌🏻👍🏻                                                                                                                                                                             

... Specially the Warsteiner....                                                                                                                                                                             

Both the ride and the beer were perfect 👌
About 60 miles and one car to pass - it must have been rush hour 🙂                                                                                                                                                                             

Super magical place Longmeg.
Spooky too 😱