A close escape and other incidents

Sunday 05:30. Bleep Bleep Bleep, no not me swearing, though it could have been - at my alarm clock. Crept out of bed, quick breakfast, mixed up my four litres of drinks and before I knew what I was doing I was pedalling off down the road chasing a 100 mile target.
It was barely thirty six hours since I got off my bike after Friday's tough and quite demoralizing ride, so I had decided to stick to very familiar territory and go round my fifty mile circuit to Lindfield and back through Ashdown Forest. The roads were quiet and I didn't mind the slight drizzle, after about ten miles I woke up and started to enjoy myself.
As I turned north and was heading up into the forest a car went past and the girl driving it gave me a cheery wave which I returned. When I rounded the next bend there she was, a rather attractive young lady, standing at the back of her car waving me down. She offered me a lift! which I declined, but she did not give up and insisted that if I was racing perhaps I would like a lift. Again I declined and pedalled off. What was that all about? Had I evaded the clutches of a coven of lycra fetish frenzied women, or was I nearly the unwitting star of a low budget xxx rated movie. These thoughts kept me in high spirits despite the cold rain that had started to fall.
I arrived back home at nine to replenish my drinks before setting off again cheerily waved off by my in-laws, Kath and Steve, the latter suggesting I should have a drop of brandy before I leave.
I would like to thank the driver of the tractor pulling a slurry cart through Godstone, after following at some distance for a mile or so he started to catch up as I slowed on a hill. The tractor crawled past spraying me with muck from his tyres and before the cart was past me he proceeded to indicate left, needless to say I ignored this and carried on, to much tooting and arm waving from him, I waved back, well a sort of wave! It was a good morning.
Shortly after this I came across other cyclists, one went past me the other way, turned around at the A25 and started to follow me, on a hill he blasted past. I was impressed, that is until I sailed past him about half a mile further on never to see him again. Then I saw the next one up ahead with a number on his back, so I decided to haul him down. As I went past I casually asked "is there a race going on?". "Yes" he gasped. The cheek was unintentional, it just came out, but it spurred me on as I chucked to myself leaving him behind.
I stopped about twenty four miles from home with eighty showing on my odometer, to eat an energy bar and take this photo to add to my boring road signs collection.
I got back just after midday, not breaking any records, but in an acceptable time considering my build up through the week.