On top of the world

A good pedal this morning. Opting to turn left instead of right at Crickhowell I tackled Mynydd Llangattwg.

It's always a little daunting when you can see that where you want to be is considerably higher than where you are. Just sit and pedal, I kept telling myself.
After what seemed like an age, and after passing a shooting party I rounded the corner of the junction with very little air left in my lungs. A sheep regarded me for the fool I am.

Still more climbing to go.
After rounding a corner I could see there was no more hill to climb and shortly found myself at the summit. Where actually the views weren't that great.

I gobbled a banana down and pressed on, not entirely sure where I was going to come out.
The town before me wasn't the one I had expected to see, and was Brynmawr.

Still, I knew the way from Brynmawr back home and most of it was downhill. I checked with another cyclist, a guy riding a single speed road bike with thighs each twice the size of my own, and he confirmed the turning I should take. Some bugger was cooking bacon as I passed through Brynmawr with my stomach beginning to rumble, but I would be damned if I could find the source of the lovely aroma.
From then on it was a pretty easy run to Blaenavon and home. I did contemplate stopping for some cake and a brew in Blaenavon but decided with only 8 miles to home I might as well keep going. I was slowly building my lunch menu in my head as I pressed on.
So, to the victor go the spoils, or something similarly tenuous.
Venison, bacon and cheese burger in fried slices, with carbonara on the side, and a bit of extra bacon.

Keep fit, it's brilliant.