A beautiful afternoon, and here I am, hobbling about with a swollen foot. I pay the doctor a visit, and after a lot of cutting and squeezing, he tells me that cycling will be possible, so off we went at 2.30pm. Through Barton to Stretford and then along to Chorlton cum Hardy. A little way along Barlow Moor Road we turned right. Coming to a cricket and tennis field, my pal became engrossed in the proceeding matches. I was indifferent to the said games, and sat on a gate reading a ‘blood’. At last I dragged him away, and coming to a little toll bridge over the Mersey, we paid our penny each and wandered towards Northenden.

Now the pain in my leg became sorely obvious, and I had perforce to slacken speed. Searching for a camping ground occupied much time, but when we did find one, we spent quite an hour chasing flies away. Stiff and cramped we arose – we were at Baguley, and after a while we crossed the Altrincham road bearing towards Carrington. We wandered round Ashton village, and got in a blank, returning to Sale. We arrived back at 7.30pm. I am now laid up with a bad foot.

35 miles, 5 hours