The grin.

On the mountain bike.

Stony climb, Up and over. 

The moor – wild, wet and windy.

Lagoon like puddles. Sheep track archipelago.

Shotgun blast mud; a face full of wheel debris.

Moor becomes road, begets mountain, fosters woodland descent.

At the forest cafe, two rides connect. Family and friends enjoy coffee and cake. 

Riding back with my daughter we compare muddy faces. I have more mud. She has the biggest grin.

 

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