I can confess that the delicate balance of our relationship had deteriorated somewhat and his chirpy attitude had worn very thin.
With hope in our hearts we set off with our eyes on the sky and minds on the hills. The morning flew by and with the wind on out backs. It's impossible to not be cheered at the sight of Zippy ordering a cubic yard of chips then consuming them to the amazement of all bystanders. So I have to confess to feel a slight warming of my frosty attitude.
From York we climbed to the North Yorkshire foot hills where disaster struck on a particular speedy dissent my spoke snapped. Hoping that I wouldn't lose my registration I seconded the local toilets for a makeshift repair shop.
Then we arrived to an evening of thoughts, chat, and plotting.
98 miles in the hardest of circumstances.
Tomorrow 95 miles on a broke bike. Without battle there is no victory.