Out from Trowbridge and back onto the towpath. Destination Hungerford skirting past Devizes. For a secular man I do find myself getting more spiritual as I get older. I guess this is somewhat inevitable. I don’t mean the Holy Spirit but pedalling is very good for the soul particularly and when you reach cadence, the route is largely traffic free, and all you have to do is maintain forward momentum to achieve your goal the meditative mindset will find you out. That was certainly true for me throughout Tuesday. As I bumped, weaved, and rutted along the Canal I pondered, reflected, and daydreamed all manner of things. There was even an epiphany to be had. Getting lost in the moment is clearly something not confined to humans as I met a Heron after a bend who was seemingly content but lost in the movement of the waters. At first I thought it was fake as I’d seen a whole host of stuff festooned on the barges I had passed hitherto. But no. It was real and prepared to stand it’s ground with the advent of the inconsequential cyclist. Amazing.  Usually they fly off before you can get near and definitely before you can get your phone out. Wiltshire wildlife – a breed apart.

As the day wore on summer bled into my skin as the sweat and electrolytes poured out. You can’t book the weather but I had definitely struck lucky. No need to pack any waterproofs and the temperature ultimately hit a high point at 33 degrees. It wouldn’t be summer in the country though without horseflies and my legs are testament to how tasty they find me. Plus I always manage to scuff my shins and calves with my pedals so together with patchy sun burn my legs were beginning to look a sorry sight. I’d drawn first blood even before I left the platform at Temple Meads. Onwards past a Wiltshire White Horse carved into the hillside (there are several in the County; they have a thing for them). Peddling along lost in rpm’s and hedgerow birdsong pacing dragon flies in flight the air was abruptly chopped up by an approaching Apache helicopter gunship prowling low left to right across the blue Wiltshire sky. That may be commonplace for local folk but it was a jarring experience for me and in stark contrast to the natural world Canal side. Seeing it though reminded me that it was coronation day for our latest leader. There’s nothing like million pound military hardware to snap you back to reality. They say societies get the governments they deserve.

Following the military theme (there may also be a Brexit metaphor somewhere if you want to dig in) as you pass through Wiltshire you start to see the remnants of the 1940’s ‘blue line’ popping up regularly which was to be the resistance line to invasion from the south in WW11. All the bridges on the Canal would have been blown and the defenders would have bunkered down in the pill boxes on the north bank. Never used fortunately. A lot of the concrete structures have become homes to bats apparently. Broke my first pair of sunglasses for the season. History tells me they won’t be the last.

After a challenging day in the heat arrived in Hungerford tired but happy in my stink. First impressions; high street buoyant and retains it’s antique charm; moneyed. Impressive thunderstorm in the early hours of Wednesday.