It was a lovely Spring day and in many places the track was fringed by a tapestry of primroses and celandines.
At another point an almost nightmarish assembly of distorted trees leers and lunges at you as you cycle by.
I show you these pictures in preference to the sight that met us as we cycled through the settlement of Johnston. There we met the Johnstonians with their dogs. Dog discipline in this village is assured by the owner shouting, 'Damn you, dog, damn you dog.' as the brainless mutt runs alongside the bicycle in an attempt to chew the cyclist's shoes.
And in Johnston, the cycle path becomes a dog toilet with little monuments of steaming dog turds peppering the tarmac.
Is this how you want your village to be known?