None but the Brave

It was a bit lonely standing at Union Corner. I’m not often first there and today it looked like I would be the only one. But Phil1 arrived shortly before the appointed time, as did the rain. This was more than the two raindrops suggested by Mystic Meg. Now, it appears that since I began my new career as Social Influencer, promoting items available from Evans Cycles, the profitability of said Company appears to have taken a nose-dive and it seems that some have tried to link the two events. I would like to make it clear that, like my jacket, this theory does not hold water.

At first it seemed as if Phil and I were to be the only two to venture out but the faithful few, Mike2, Phil3 and Keith, had abandoned the waterlogged gateway in favour of the junction. Paul arrived just as we had agreed our destination. Some days are Poldhu days, today was a Miss Molly’s day. Paul had to be back very early so I suggested we went to Moll’s by the shortest route, and if the weather improved we could take a longer route home. However, Paul decided to turn back before we got to Bolenowe. “We’ve been out in worse”, suggested Mike2, but as the rain intensified he decided that he would reconsider that statement. The only consolation was that the first rivulets were seen making their way across the mud that used to be Stithians Reservoir in an effort to add to its diminished capacity.

We arrived at Molls just after 10.20, an OGIL record, and were glad to see that our table at the window, near the wood burner, was vacant. The long table with the old pew that collapses every now and then has disappeared and several smaller tables have taken its place. The food was well received, as was the sack of logs to refill the wood burner and turn our cold and wet clothing into warm and wet clothing. It hadn’t been that bad a ride, we agreed, the rain had almost stopped a couple of times.

Keith, ordering a second coffee, removed the danger of leaving before the time when we should have arrived but finally, not being able to delay the moment any longer, it was time to depart. Vera Lynn reminded us to wish her luck as we waved her goodbye. Although the rain had ceased there was no mention of extending the route home and we made our way back to Brea village and along the cycle path to St Euny Church. Eventually the sun came out and it could even be described as warm (ish).

32 miles for me. Dean

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