Dustman Dave's Doddle

S has instructed me to prominently display that she did 76 miles at a moving  average of 13 mph.

The second audax of the season saw us off to Bishop's Lydeard, near Taunton, for a spot of Somerset 'flat'. Now, if you are from down these parts then you will be familiar with the 'Wicker Man' which stands sentinel over the M5 motorway. It is, I think, but have no firm basis for this assumption, the equivalent of the 'Angel of the North' near Gateshead. Whatever the reason for it being there it's a better sight than the Morrisons distribution centre, and now I have firm evidence that this is not an isolated manifestation of the weavers art because, we were not 10 km down the road from the start when we stumbled across a wicker watering can, teacup and saucer.

Admittedly of dubious utility, and the cafe was shut so S had to make do with a dried date from the bottom of my saddlebag. At this point the sun was out and, at moments, a combination of sheltered lane and gap in the cloud could even pass for a much delayed spring day. The going was easy to the first control at Langport, where I regretfully passed up the chance of a bacon bap at the Potting Shed café in lieu of the promise of something more substantial at the next control. Alas my faith was not repaid. Now, I'm sure the Haynes Motor Museum is a great day out, I own a Haynes bike manual, and have previously owned an equivalent Ford Sierra book, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that these very tomes are published in the depths of Somerset, but the café was not cycling category A by any means. An uninspiring chicken mayo sarnie and machine cappucino was all to be had.
The return leg revealed yet more giant wicker-ware, this time an enormous bucket spotted in the distance, yet more evidence of a tribe of giant weaving folk.

The Potting Shed cafe was visited once more and S dragged me a way from the bacon buttie, professing the need to prevent muscles seizing up, beating the oncoming rain, not finishing last for once etc. etc. . . so I was forced to forego yet again. The last leg turned out to be 6 km more than the advertised distance, which doesn't sound much but is unwelcome at the end of 114 km! But we made it back as the first spots of rain began to fall, and tucked in to a welcome portion of beans on toast at the control - who needs energy bars.

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