A year has gone full circle. I’m driving through France looking at the rough agricultural tracks or gravel roads dissecting the vast agricultural lands, running far into the distance again. Kids are in the back of the car watching Disney movies again. My wife is sitting next to me in the front, probably pretending to be asleep again so I don’t talk to her about cycling through France by Gravel Road. Again.
With most of my eyes on the road ahead, out of their corner I watch the gravel roads, farm tracks, dusty pathways dissect the vast agricultural lands of France, (France is not a country that will go hungry), they often disappear over the crest of a curvaceous hill or the sanctuary of an inviting wood. Each promises an adventure. Each promises their own unique story.
The same old day dreams. Not much has changed over the last 12 months then.
Except I’ve changed and I think writing this blog has played a part.
Seeing your thoughts in print has taught me being opinionated is not a nice trait. It can quickly sound like just having a rant. Digging in and holding firm on your position can just be pig headed. For every one of your own opinions there are at least a hundred others? Who’s right? Who cares? Unless you’re the President of the United States of America (or a judge in Hawaii) it doesn’t really matter.
Every time I’ve knocked together a post I’ve asked myself: am I being a pig headed ranter? Hopefully not. That’s my one rule for my attempts at writing. I’ve tried to carry this over into my other relations at home, at work and at play.
Having got over the lack of traffic to https://subconsciouscyclist.com/ what do they say? There are lies, damned lies and statistics. I resolved that I was getting more than simply hits from hits. Which was just as well. From Blog writing I’ve tried to develop different styles of writing and get used to seeing my words alive, out there, sort of in print. It’s still cringe making to think someone I know may read my thoughts and know what I’m thinking. I guess that’s a rite of passage for any writer. Either way it’s more nerve-wracking than descending Col du Glandon at 90kmh.
Thanks for sticking along for the ride the last 12 months.