What a miserable night.

My tent pitch selection had been rushed and as a consequence was awful. I was on a slope. I’m going to blame the long grass for hiding the slope angle but really it was incompetence. As I was at a higher elevation I anticipated a colder night. I took off my dank sweaty cycling cloths and hung them up (ready to be worn the next day) on the makeshift clothesline in the tent. Then put on my merino base layer top and bottom, long sleeved shirt and puffer jacket then my long trousers (over the top of the long johns) and 2 pairs of socks. I am so rueing the day I decided to leave my sleeping bag at home because of bulk. I’m lying feeling slimy from 3 days cycling, damp coming in from outside and a chill setting in. My feet and toes are like blocks of ice. I fear to rub them in an attempt to warm then for fear of bringing back the terrible chilblains I suffered all winter.

I sleep minimally waking frequently shivering. I really have nothing else to put on. So I lie and read my book waiting for dawn. At 5 I can see the outside brightening through the tent. Still I wait, finally at about 7 I muster the to move. Quickly removing all my sleep clothes snd putting on the cycling gear, rubbing my body hard to warm up. Still the sun has not hit me in the valley. Packing fast and out the tent dew covers everything soaking the tent, bike all the bags. I have learnt to always close every bag at night. My fingers frozen as I do up the buckles and fastenings. I have the packing down to a tee. Usually from horizontal to cycling takes an hour.

Bouncing down the dirt track from my camp spot and onto the road. No towns, no coffee I am suffering big time intermittently rays of sunshine at through the trees and warm my skin.

Pushing on I finally find a cafe that’s open, before 10am way too early for most.

Reaching the top of the pass. I knew I was nearly there. The road snakes down hairpin after hairpin. None of your smooth tarmac here, potholes, broken road sides, adverse cambers, collapsing road into sink holes, its a mine field of descending. Unpredictability is my friend it makes the ride much more interesting.

The road stretches out straight as a die to the town but as always the last 5 kms Komoot likes to throw in a turn. As I rode the gravel track past a house 5 dogs come out and surround me. Stopping I stood still the noise is deafening teeth are bared each dog curling its body as if ready to pounce. Still I didn’t move if I made a step the dogs intensified. The owner came out an old woman shouting and stamping her foot. It made no difference, I stepped away again growling, barking, fear in my face. She seemes to say it was OK, I really didn’t believe her. But eventually the once macho man sulked off 20 meters I found the courage to ride away.