A day at the races

Back in 'the acre' for a day of watching other people strain sinew, pull muscles and bugger knees. As far as I could tell, 'adventure racing' is basically an excuse for the wearing of lycra by people who should really know better, that, and outright masochism.

 

Pre-race, a suspiciously shiny bike.

  

It's Lance Armstrong! Maybe.

 

Witnessed all manner of arse-over-tit action on this slope, crumpled heaps make for crap photos mind, so here's a terribly proficient chap. He's so good, he takes a blurred background wherever he might go to ensure an impression of speediness - the sign of a true professional.

PS. Three Crossbills, and a few Redwing and Siskin overhead were the upshot of the bird action.