Cycling and dreaming at the kitchen table.


This morning there is rain, just soft enough to enjoy and the first for quite some time. The weather is warm enough to have windows open a little and the sound of the garden for company at the kitchen table. Sparrows are now supposed to be rare, but you would not think that for a moment around our home. Their calls are loud, more jazz than anything even slightly classical. They are the bullies at our feeders.


Having a beautiful garden and being a cyclist are mutually exclusive, with peaks in both coinciding with the height of summer. Crisp cycling tan lines now obvious in post ride shower and plants so heavy with blossom that they fall over each other. I know it is a food chain out there in the garden, an abattoir for some even. But it does look stunning. We have decided to call it a wildlife garden. A choice made for us when Esther’s prized specimens in the raised bed were identified as weeds by a gardening neighbour.



Spread out in front of me are local maps as I plan routes for our new bike touring business. 1:25,000 and the same area at 1:50,000 by Ordnance Survey and all featuring the reassuring Crown Copyright symbol. These are the maps I am most in love with and the ones I have had the longest and most passionate relationship with. It began at school in geography lessons and the occasional field trip. I did not grow up in a house of books or maps, but I could not live without either now and would probably shoplift both without a single pang of guilt if we fell on hard times.


The big project for us at the moment is rebranding the bike touring company that we will be running. Every bike ride is now research. Is this good, too hilly, how can we make a loop and where is the nearest coffee and cake? The logo is now finalised and began with a stupid question, like most good things – ” can we have a cow on a bike? ” The cutest cow in the world, the one that will turn the wavering carnivore away from meat is the Belted Galloway. Our local cow, and a bit of a bovine celebrity,  hardy enough for the uplands and unmistakable from the hairy ears to that white belt. I first saw them down on the moors of Dartmoor 30 years ago and could not believe my eyes. Our Belted Galloway rides a sturdy bike and is called Robin.


We are working on the content and style of the new website, but at the same time we wanted to do a 1 minute film that would put across our company values and mood. Riding a bike can be about speed, about the buzz and that perfect line around a fast descending bend. But it can be about looking over the hedge, stopping to take things in, talking to the people you meet. We have just 60 people per square mile here ( the scottish average is 168 ) and an amazing almost maze like series of quiet roads passing through beautiful villages. The little film introduces the quiet adventures that you can have here and the interesting thought that I came across; ‘ you can’t be sad whilst riding a bike ‘.  I hope you enjoy it – turn on the sound!