A sunnyish afternoon today, so I took the bike out for a run. Not far down the road, I noticed that there was a slight clatter from somewhere in front of me every time I went over a sharp bump, like potholes or catseyes. I couldn’t see anything loose, so I carried on. I rode to Dumfries, then north westwards to Moniaive. By this time I was getting slightly concerned about the occasional clatter, so I stopped in Moniaive and gave the bike a good dose of looking at. Nothing at the front end or under the tank appeared to be at all loose, but I checked all the screws and bolts for tightness. All were perfectly tight, and I was puzzled.
Anyway, I shrugged my shoulders and carried on. And lo! the clatter was gone, and never returned again for the rest of the ride. Perhaps the air at Moniaive has miraculous healing properties.
Riding on over the hills towards St John’s Town of Dalry, I turned off on to a single track moorland road to Lochinvar Reservoir, which I had never seen.
Leaving Lochinvar, I carried on through Dalry, which is an attractive village of traditional houses, mostly spread along a steeply sloping street, with the Clachan Inn at the bottom.
The bike was going really well after its service last week, and I enjoyed a fast swooping ride southwards to Castle Douglas. I still don’t know what the clatter was, though.
