Preston’s Guild Wheel is a 21 – mile loop that encircles the town. It’s a shared path, which means you can’t fly around it like a Bat outta hell without dismembering dog walkers and pedestrians. It’s more a Sunday – ride – with – the – kids kinda thing, but it’s a good couple of hours out on a sunny day.
First Catkins of the the year, preparing to burst open.
The sun confused us all by appearing in March, and while most of my fellow men were standing agog and pointing at the Huge Foreign Shiny Thing In The Sky, I gave Trigger a dusting down with a tin of Brasso, spilling most of it on the lounge rug, then took to the wheel.
Low water, Penwortham bridge, early afternoon.
Not sure if this guy had his license on him, he wasn’t keen on being photographed. I like to think he was a lost Hopi Indian.
The Ribble Estuary,low water, looking towards Preston. St. Walburge’s spire rising on the left.
A good few miles under the wheels then, feeling a lot more sassy and speedy, the way it goes when the daffodils are beginning to show, like the world’s designed just for you. Amazing the difference that a couple of days’ exposure to sunlight and the road passing beneath your feet can do.
Looking North from Preston, Bowland’s hills in the distance.
Spring sunshine on the Ribble, just south of Brockholes.
There’s a lot of beauty on your doorstep, if you’re willing to look for it.
S.
Afternoon sunlight glinting on the Ribble. Bliss.
