Be Prepared

Last Sunday, we decided to get the mountain bikes out and get some exercise. It was a warm, sunny late summer day and we had intended to try a different route that a friend of mine suggested. I debated whether or not to take the camera along (most of route we do regularly so it would have offered little in the way of variety) but at the last minute I decided to take it along.  The good thing about a micro four thirds camera system is the size and the light weight.

On the way to the village of Sturton-Le-Steeple, we pulled over to watch what appeared to be two buzzards circling above us. Unfortunately I wasn't fast enough to get the camera out of my rucksack so the pictures I took where hazy and distant.  I was cursing for being too slow.

The Reindeer Inn at Sturton-Le-Steeple is a regular stopping off point for us when out on the bikes. We have a couple of routes that we take, one that clocks in around the nine mile mark and the other direct route is around three miles.  There has been a settlement here since Roman times and like many villages in this area it has its own architecturally interesting church opposite the pub.

The benches outside the pub are situated next to a large duck pond that has been very short on ducks in recent visits.  This time, we were greeted by the sight of eight ducklings being chaperoned by their mother.

The sides of the pond are quite steep for the ducklings, so they've utilised the stepping stones to get out of the water.

The ducks go pretty well where they want to without a care in the world.  They held up a car that was trying to leave the pub car park for almost five minutes as they scurried around, oblivious to the potential danger.

The mother led them across the road and into the graveyard of the church where we presume they have made a home for themselves away from danger.

 This alone made bringing the camera along worthwhile but a short time later I spotted something on the horizon speeding towards us.  The Vulcan Bomber (also on this post) was making another flight.  On its recent fly overs it has felt as though the pilot was deliberately teasing me.  It was either obscured by low cloud or it was crossing the sun which threw the plane into silhouette.  This time, I was ready for it.

 

We ended up having to end our bike ride prematurely due to a puncture on Terry's bike.  (tip, it's worth buying yourself a decent bike pump that actually pumps.)  Half an hour later and we had it temporarily repaired to make the journey back home.  Despite being covered in oil it was a worthwhile afternoon out.