Knowing when to sloe down

On Friday night I had the most intriguing dream .
It was one of those that was so lucid that you really believe it is true.
I was on a train that had just pulled away from a station and realised that I had left my cycle on the platform.
The train was crowded with people standing and I frantically battled towards the conductor to plead for him to reverse the train.
Rather than laugh he replied 'Ok Sir I will see what we can do'
Rather disgruntled all of the other passengers gave a huge grown and stared at me.

Thankfully it was at that point that I woke - up never knowing whether I was to be thrown out of the window or reunited with my bike.

Not wanting to leave anything to chance I got up and ran downstairs to be comforted by my ever faithful 'Ralph' (Ralph the Ridgeback Tourer). He had subtly propped himself up against the radiator, not missing a trick for some additional warmth I noted.

I also noticed outside that the road was dry and the that the temperature was above zero.....just !!!!!!!
This meant that there was no real excuse to not go out riding, not even using the 30 mph winds outside which were trying to break an entry into my house.
So we set off - Me, Simon and Bobby on the first 'Anglo Mule' training ride of the year.
We decided on a circular Route to ensure that the wind would be able to have a good go at 'all sides' of our over-stretched torsos.
As Simon had already completed 13 miles Cycling from Driffield to Beverley, we decided to include Driffield on the way home via some compulsory climbing around Lonsborough and Water.
For 'anybody' standing roadside, even the blessed a village idiot, it would be easy to reckon who had enjoyed Christmas the most.
Not for the fact the he spent most of the day lagging behind.
But due to the Rotund form, blowing red cheeks and red coat - yours truly was surely an honoury member of the St Nicholas appreciation Society.

As we approached Driffield the Heaven opened and Bobby and I were persuaded to take some shelter and have a warming cup of Coffee.
We had already completed 36 miles so I felt we were deserving of such an excursion.
As we sat in Simon's conservatory the rain mocked us, playing solemn tunes upon the glass panes above, in readiness for our departure.
Sensing the mood change Simon asked Bobby and I if we wanted to try some of his Sloe Gin that he made for Christmas.
Now Booby is a Scotsman and as such he believes that to refuse a drink from your fellow man is worse than sleeping with his wife.
I of course agreed and within a few short moments the red silky liquid was more than a match for the transparent stuff outside.
As I took the final mouth full of my second glass I politely enquired as to whether Simon knew the local train times.
It was as subtle a question as I could muster but nevertheless Simon saw right through it, as he topped up my glass.
There is something quite odd about drinking alcohol after prolonged vigorous exercise.
Its like being in a video on the 'stages of inebriation' with the button pressed on fast forward.
One second I was taking my first sip and before the minute hand had travelled a mere 180 degrees I was giggling like a teenage boy in church.
Bobby and I both agreed that the train idea was actually quite a good one and we toasted the concept with another glass and discussed the general merits of locomotives with our respective tongues firmly planted in cheeks..
After wobbling our way down to the station we attracted much mirth from the fellow travellers.
Two over 50s gents, seemingly respectable yet giggling with rudden faces and smelling like moonshine..................very curious and before Noon no less.

We had to wait for ten minutes for the train to come and when it arrived I stumbled towards the door, like a Hobo joining the soup kitchen line.
Bobby my dear friend then reminded me that I had set off that morning with Ralph and that it would be a shame to leave him in the station.