The final report has arrived from the Wessex Front, my reign of terror is nearly at an end, and songs will be peppered througout. The exciting news from HQ is that my bike is shiny and clean, leading to an official Trois V endorsement for Pedro's Green Fizz.
So the news is that the first 60 miles were fun, and the second 60 miles were spent wondering if death was around the corner. Big climbs, a false flat, and a ride through an artillery range into the teeth of a gale were the orders of the day. The final 30 miles were spent without water, subsisting only on a thin gruel of energy gels, which taste like paracetamol ground up into snot at the best of times.
Still, they weren't last, they finished (unlike many), the broom wagon was ordered to leave them alone, and the team received compliments for their sartorial elegance.
The day is therefore declared a total victory, and here's Mr Copland to salute everyone who entered the Tour of Wessex.
No Trois V expedition could be complete without encountering one of our sworn enemies. This time it was the oft mentioned 'those guys in that car', this time taking the form of a man impatient to turn left on an a-road as our boys waited to cross it.
'Beep' went the horn. 'Shrug, there's nothing we can do' went the Trois V. 'Beep' again went the horn. 'Flip' went the Trois V finger. 'Vroom vroom, swerve, brake right in front of you' went the car. 'Yikes!' went the Trois V. 'I've got kids in the f***ing car!' screamed the driver, now out of his vehicle. 'Way to complain about people swearing near your children, douchebag' went the Trois V, their size intimidating the driver back into the car and on his way.
Remember enemies of the Trois V - mess with the bird, you're gonna get pecked.
So tomorrow I'm going to change nappies and admire my shiny clean bike, whilst Doug and Matt go on a recovery ride, to heal themselves.