After a long Saturday, the dog predictably jumped on me at 0630.... thanks, Loki.

After seveal cups of tea, I felt ready to head out to watch the World Championship road race which was passing within a few miles of the front door, so leaving Her and hound in bed, I nipped up to Stockbridge to nab a shot before heading home to watch the rest of it on TV. 

Interspersed with laundry and sleeping and a more general tidy up of kit after the Munro expedition of Saturday (and the annoying news that Dave was hors de combat and the RIng of Steall was shelved. 

After the thrilling finale on the slippery streets of Glasgow, I set about taking Her home so off we went, via an emporium of gammon and cauliflower.

She set about cooking, I set about unpacking and having dined, I drove home; something I rarely if ever do. 

M. Van Der Poel in the midst of 150 other blokes on bikes on his way to a rainbow jersey