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Blog 178 Throckmorton to Bridgeport

2nd April

9.30am start. Wind from the north hurling its force across me as I travel east. The benefit of the wind has blown away and I feel becalmed. Cyclists are vulnerable to everything. Stripped bare cyclists have bigger legs than most people and slight pidgin chests. A bag of puff pushed up hills by hard thighs and a warm wind. More blustery gales across me and sometimes rain then a torrent and then the blistering heat designed to strip us of reason and on a bicycle there is no place to hide. 


Didn't think these places existed anymore?


I’m in Newcastle having a hot chocolate at the 380 Diner where the road turns right, just watching people dine or go about their business is one way not to feel alone. A young woman comes in followed by older people who in America walk as if struggling into a stiff breeze.


So little to say today so here is the map


Map of the Day


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