Into the woods
In need of escape, I crammed my bike into the car and drove to the forest to think of nothing.
The morning chill still lingered, but I was warm in the window seat of the visitor centre cafe. I sipped my coffee and watched. Outside, people gathered in the low sunlight. Dogs begged patiently for their owners’ food. Ducks looked warily at the dogs. Beyond them, at the edge of the lake, the wind breathed through the rushes.
It was early in my ride for a stop, but I’d driven for an hour to reach the Forest of Dean before parking up and setting off. I don’t much like driving, and it’s a winding, frustrating route from my home. Sometimes, though, when nothing but a ride in the woods will do, I head here.
I finished my coffee, gathered my things and resumed the winding route I’d planned. The 80km track on my GPS map criss-crossed the forest to take in as many tracks, and as few roads, as possible.