It absolutely chucked it down all day yesterday, so the singlespeed got another outing for my day-off ride. These bluebells were hiding at the bottom of an ace little bit of secret singletrack. Lovely.

Fantastic weather the other evening. Shorts and short sleeves until past nine o’clock, dry and dusty underwheel, the only negative was a puncture on the final descent. It happened on one of the new waterbars that the National Trust has installed with special razor-sharp edges on them. Still, it sealed itself in a minute or two and the ride was brilliant otherwise. I think it’s time to put the summer tyres back on the Soul and maybe move the singlespeed to the back of the pile of bikes. It has served me well through winter, but I’m looking forward to some drier, warmer riding for the next few months.

During the evenings for the past week or so the back lanes and tracks have been covered in toads. It is toad mating season, and additionally this delightful fog that’s been hanging about is making everything nice and soggy, encouraging them to get it on right out in the open. This makes the usually boring bits at the very end of my rides into an exciting, frog-dodging obstacle course. As far as I’m aware I haven’t squished any on my bike, although there are a lot of unfortunate dead amphibians lying about along the busier tarmacked roads, clearly crushed by motorised vehicles. I feel an affinity for these knobbly creatures, and a sympathy for the dead ones: they head out of an evening to have fun on quiet lanes, bothering no-one, but in doing so run the risk of meeting a grisly fate under the wheels of a car or van. Poor toads.