’ve spent the last few days in Scotland with the boy…visiting.
I’ve seen great friends and family and helped Callum play a lot of football in the free to access AstroTurf with the full-size goals that we come to Scotland for (that we can’t get in England because they’re all shut and locked).
And I took my bike.
I’ve ridden early mornings and roads that I knew from being a boy but some of the ones that I’ve never found before.
New roads are a nuisance and a joy in equal measure.
Sometimes you go down them and they’re rubbish and rotten and rutted and difficult to ride on and sometimes they take you to a view or a stop that you could never have imagined.
And many of the roads that I’ve ridden I’ve been accompanied by thousands of little, small birds as ‘motorcycle outriders’ in the most extraordinary weather for the west of Scotland.
I’ve had conversations though with people who I’ve known for a very long time who are thinking about the prospect of ‘getting out’.
They’re now starting (in their early 50’s) to figure out how to cash in on what they’ve built and move into a life (at least that they feel) is less stressful and more manageable.
I listened to these conversations with great interest and, I hope, with kindness and some small degree of pity because I have no urge or intention to follow them down that track because there are just too many new roads to continue to explore.
Blog Post Number - 3172
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