British Summer Time ........... Gone with the wind!

British Summer Time was blown away today as stormy weather battered the remnants of the Saturday posse.

Ironman was away on international duty and The Fit One was hydrating at a Ceilidh last night and so unable to make the early morning start.

Santiago and Bigman braved the elements and headed up over Mont VeKnockhill towards Yetts of Muchart. The top of VeKnockhill was a sea of mist albeit passing over head at about 40 miles per hour with a strong chilling wind from the east. At least it was not raining ............... yet!

At Yetts, the pair hung a right and tucked in, taking turns to drive, at pace, into the head on wind. The 8 miles appeared to take an age to cover. At Milnathort, it was up to Loch Leven's Larder for a carbing stop. Santiago went for the full boona with cheesecake.

The return to Kinross was at pace with the wind pushing the pair along. The junction to Kinross indicated the road was closed however the fearless pair sped along weaving through the hurdles put across the road to delay the less determined.

As the pair shot through Kinross, Santiago forecast a bit of a downpour. And so it came to pass, or rather remain overhead. It was raining stair rods, cats and dogs, and any other analogy you would care to mention and all at the same time!

Last night The Wingman had been describing a product development idea for future Epic Adventures. It resembles the re-fueling capability aircraft use when making long distance sortis.. He plans to dangle a tube out of the support car enabling carb on-boarding without having to stop. Which of the posse is likely to take up this idea................ we wonder?

The Fit One had phoned during the cheesecake to check whether the posse was out 'on the range'. It appeared he found this incomprehensible.

With rain diluting the perspiration and creating rivers flowing fast and furious into the eyes, Bigman had nightmares about Alpe D'Huez when the sweat burnt into his eyes. With driving stair rods of rain, sweat burning the eyes, the North Face yet to be ascended, and cold water starting to infuse his socks, Bigman was starting to wonder what made this fun. On apositive note, the Gore waterproof shorts were holding up well. There is little worse than wet cycling shorts complete with a dampened chamois between a rider and his saddle.

The younger members of the posse may easily make a connection with their nappy wearing days, but Junior is not with the posse today.

The North Face is ascended and the wind eases as the posse drops down past Loch Fitone and the monument to the Gruesome Twosome. As the guys approach the Museum Race Point, Bigman kicks down on the pedals and he is off. Wind assisted it was with great pace, the race was over before it started.

Another 72km towards the Cape Epic enduarance race. Another milestone hit last night was the blogger count went past 900. Next stop 1000 bloggers. You are all very intelligent and wise readers!