I really do like a cold beer after riding my bike in warm weather such as this weekend. So much so, I was thinking it may be more appropriate to change this journal to something with beer in the title. I'm afraid if Mr McCann sees this titled as it is, I'll never be able to set foot in his barbershop again.

I've earned the beer this weekend. Saturday I cycled over a hundred kilometres with the bike unloaded. Today, I went out with my old club and covered seventy kilometres. There's a lot of new faces, but Kieran is still there. He doesn't seem to have aged since my time. He was a grey-haired man then, and still is. He must be in his mid seventies and is as bike-fit as riders half his age. He has a nice new Dura Ace equipped carbonfibre Eddy Merckx, which is as light as the seat with seat-post on my Dawes. He told me he rode from Derry last Tuesday, a distance of about one-hundred and eighty kilometres. I asked him how long it took. He said he left Derry at eleven-thirty and was home by teatime.

It was yesterday when riding alone when I made the association with beer and run over in my head a number of possible titles with the word beer in it. Even if I don't change the title, I could maybe make a comment on different beers I encounter on the way. I can't wait until I get to Belgium for instance.

Any way I'm off tomorrow. I've been inspired by Kieran and will start by riding up to Derry.

Heart

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