Riding up from Winsford towards the Exford to Wheddon Cross road I’m brought up short behind a flock of sheep moving fields. Bringing up the rear is a quad bike with an ever-excited sheepdog perched behind the young farmer. The dog squeals and yips, desperate to get onto the real work of the day. Eventually it is time for action and in the blink of an eye (so quick in fact that I miss the move entirely) the dog has sped to the front of the flock and is deftly directing it into an open gateway. With a nod and a wave to the farmers I pick up my pace again, the interlude so pleasant that I don’t even care that it has caused my average speed to plummet dramatically. Numbers are not everything, after all.