and roaring, pouring air;
Suspended by magic and iron laws
Between dawn and a day from hell.
But no matter
What I conjure
From this concatenation of curving tubes
Precision parts and spinning spokes
It will not suffice:
There’s no machine, no human power
That can outrun the onward rush
Of fate, events and time.
Yet while there is a road
Breath and blood, a rising sun
And I have strength and will enough
I’ll ride and rage, hurt and hope.
Gonecycling (again) 
Oh that we could outrun fate…somehow it always has more endurance than us.
Fate shows no signs of tiring here in the UK, that’s for sure! If anything, it seems to have had a bit of a boost this week…but I’m told the race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, so on we go. Take care. N.