My good old buddy, Thomas, has recently moved back to the UK after a bit of traveling. He’s been pining to go for a ride on his home trails around Tideswell so he can get that homely stirring in his loins. Therefore, with Tom’s loins in mind, we headed off to feast on a nostalgia buffet.

 

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I am Mr Happy. Happiness is me. Witness my joy.

These trails were new to me so I was glad of the change of scenery and the chance to get to know more of the Peak. Also, the strict rules and regs of this challenge stipulate uniqueness, so new rides allow me to smash a tick into the checkbox. Boom! Metaphorical HB2. Snapped nib. Must chill out with imaginary check lists.

 

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View of the day.

Tom pulled a few tasty trails out of the bag. We had a mess about on a few tricky sections and skated down the mud. Beyond these two fleeting moments, the rest of the ride was pretty grim! I think Tom was hoping this ride would welcome him home and dispell any ideas that he should have stayed in sunny South America. I was going to ask him if this was the case but I couldn’t find a moment where he wasn’t crying.

 

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Skids are for kids.

After a 20k loop around Cressbrook and Tideswell we headed back home through the snow. The wind did it’s best to smear Tom’s homecoming tears across his face. As it did, the salty smears spelled out “What have I done!?”.

 

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Looking back on happier times

It wasn’t all as grim as I made it out to be. Also, after a bit of research, I think I may have been psychologically projecting my own feelings. Tom may genuinely be happy to be home riding trails like this and not enjoying the sunshine. Who care’s though. Just keep on denying.

 

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The face of a sad little man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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