a series of pictures & words seemingly unconnected

Just some of the advantages of getting up at 4am to cycle a hundred miles;
telegraph wires shimmering like cobwebs with summer dew
ocean surf, cool and waking in which bobbing heads wait for 'the wave'
suns too bright to look at, too bright not to - dozens fill the sky, etched in retina
concerned glances of the unnacustomed
the ancient old-schooler with his '87 century ride bag
leaving carbon dream machines panting behind me