Two Blacksmiths and a Tiger

The first ped­al­lers’ out­ing of the year took us from the Blacksmith’s Arms in Hunt­ing­ton — where one of our num­ber was served with the world’s longest chip (pos­sibly an extru­sion) via the slippy banks of the Foss to the Tiger in Haxby.  One intrepid soul, aware this was a pedaller’s trip, non­ethe­less fol­lowed on foot, mak­ing excel­lent time.  Our first fol­lower ! The Tiger, although a large room, enjoyed the Tad­caster arrange­ment whereby all the loc­als gather closely round the door, enabling an intim­ate inspec­tion of all strangers com­ing and going.

On in the dark across the bri­dle­way towards Skelton — for­tu­nately no large clods to send us into the ditch, nor love-cars boun­cing under the hedges. Ser­i­ous defi­cit of pickled eggs at the Black­smiths, formerly a win­ner of the ISOTOPE award.  Back into town via Route 65, an old favour­ite in the dark of the night, made glor­i­ous by the sight of the new wheel lit up in star-quenching splendour.

And so to bed. (Obser­v­ant folk may note that I have not metioned any of the beers con­sumed.  Draw your own conclusions).