Another grey day with the clouds skulking low along the ridges of Ashclyst and West Hill. For much of the ride my glasses are coated in droplets of moisture which makes everything appear even more gloomy than reality. At least it isn’t actually raining.
Outside Rockbeare I ignore three ‘Road Closed’ signs in the hope there will be a way through for bicycles and pedestrians. A crew of five or six is re-surfacing a stretch of tarmac and I’m quite prepared to admit defeat and retrace back to try another route, but they wave me through along a path freshly rolled flat by their roller. I daren’t glance back for fear of having left 25mm indentations in their work.