And so it came to pass that just one day passed between the completion of Juneathon and my next foray into playing silly buggers. You can insert your own exclamations of “has it really been a year since the last one?” but yes, it really has.

We, the faithful, gathered in Kircudbright for the start of Summer Porage 2011. There were fewer people than usual that I knew but is always the case with races it didn’t take long to learn a few names, shake a few hands and swap a few stories. The Friday night was a very relaxed affair as I’d taken the day off to pack and travel meaning that I turned up, pitched the tent and was ready to ride in an hour. All that was left to do was eat, have a drink and get to bed.

On that last note, while I love my wee tent, it’s low hanging ceiling means that it can get really warm in there during summer months.

However, it’s still a beaut. The being woken at 4am by the sun and birds wasn’t so great, but I managed to get at least some rest before the sounds of a waking campsite got my up just before seven. A cereal bar, a banana and a coffee and we were gathering for the initial bike ride to The Island.

There were checkpoints on the island and, thankfully, no sign of any plugs or polar bears. After that it was all bike for the next 90km. We went up hills and down them again, through Gatehouse of Fleet and along Old Military Roads. Up the Kirroughtree red to McMoab (no, I didn’t manage it) and then back down Route 7 to the Galloway Creamery. A long ride on a hot day and I loved it all.

It wasn’t my best ride ever, that I’ll admit, the strains of Juneathon were showing as after the second bag drop and with 30km to go I lost all energy. Two gels couldn’t revive tired legs and I struggled to keep up with the pelaton I’d fallen in with, resigning myself to knowing that they weren’t that far ahead and allowing myself a cheer whenever I caught up enough to see them before they disappeared around the next corner.

All in all, another cracking Porage. I wonder where winter’s will be.

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