The next morning, I heated some croissants in the airfryer for breakfast.

After eating and a coffee, we started getting ready for our cycle through the New Forest¹. Funiculosus had a rucksack and a pannier and two bottles of water and two bottles of coke and half a dozen energy gels (which he forgot and left in the fridge). I had my bottle of water – I planned for us to stop at Beaulieu for coffee and a snack, and then maybe grab fish and chips at Lepe (a beach).

He had to let me lead since I knew the area – and I think he liked letting “his puppy” scoot up ahead. I think he thought that I was always checking to make sure that he was still behind me (which I was – in part), but my backward shoulderchecks are a legacy of my time on a motorbike – and something that every cyclist would benefit from learning. “Lifesavers” they are called. Do ’em before any turn or manoeuvre.

The first part of the route is on back roads, then there’s a stretch of cycle path (some of it shared pedestrian/cycle), until the road that leads into the forest.

I hadn’t quite appreciated (because I’m used to it) that I live a few meters above sea-level … the entrance to the Forest is up hill – some of it quite steep!

I also hadn’t realised that this was Funiculosus’ first cycle this year! So it actually came as a bit of a shock to him!

I wasn’t bothered that he was slow, althgough I worried that we might get separated if I went too fast and didn’t pay attention. So, puppy-like, I kept slowing down and waiting for him, or scooting back to find him and make sure that he was OK.

The roads were a little busier than I was used to – I prefer to go Sunday mornings, and on that day and that time the roads are almost empty. Saturday mornings are busier and we often got a trail of irritable motorists queuing up behind us. We’d pull over and let them pass. Most motorists were patient though and passed us with plenty of space.

Tuba-tuba-tuba-tuba we crossed the grid that keeps the wild horses, and the cattle, pigs, donkeys, and whatever other animals from wandering into busier areas, and entered the moorland bit of the Forest. The heather was still in flower, but the fern was browning. We passed a herd of cows, one of which was thinking of crossing the road. I slowed down to make sure that “Daisy” didn’t decide to just wander in front of me. Her husband, a bull with enormous horns, watched me from about twenty meters away – I didn’t like the way he looked at me – as though he was considering whether to impale me. He didn’t, but I was glad when he was safely behind me.

Beaulieu wasn’t too far from the moors really, but its a lot further when you are looking after somebody else!

We got off, parked and chained the bikes up, then I got me a coffee and the two of us a granola slice each. That’s when he told me that his legs were killing him and he felt sick at times.

Oops!

I had to take care of my friend. Lunch at the beach wasn’t going to be a good idea. I needed to get him home the most direct way I could, and avoid any unnecessary hills.

However, there was one hill that we could not avoid: the one on the east side of Beaulieu. It was the biggest single hill of the entire ride.

I briefed him about it and said to him to start in the lowest gear he could and pace himself. He said that he would be OK, but that I should just go ahead and he’d find me. OK. that’s fine – if he had to get off, I would just sit on the grass at the top and wait for him.

I made my way up the hill, but he had vanished when I looked back. So I kept going. Being used to this hill, I was fine. And at the top I sat and waited for him.

His cheeky smile eventually appeared and I was relieved and happy to see him. We didn’t stop for long. The next stage was the flat moors before the final cattlegrid and exit. There was only a short amount of road (albeit a busy section), before we could relax on backroads and cycle paths – with enough space to ride by side for the first time.

Then we could chatter for a bit. He is somebody with whom I feel that I can say anything. Funny how starting our friendship from kink has resulted in an exceptionally deep and solid friendship.

There were only a couple of hills to worry about. The next one coming up to Elling was smaller than memory made it.

At Elling we stopped at the pub on the water, overlooking a picturesque estuary filled with small boats and dinky yachts … and trimmed by cargo containers at the entrance! There we had brunch and nattered more.

The rest of the voyage home was pretty straightforward. I took us a slighltly longer way back so that we’d avoid the final hill and come via a smaller rise.

Once home, we showered … then went to play some more!

I dropped into subspace faster than ever!

This time I was so deep that I was unaware of time. He had to work to bring me round … so that I could prepare tea for my ex!

Bless him!

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¹ It is hilarious to think that the “New Forest” is so named because it was designated a new royal hunting ground in 1079!
And it was already ancient then!