Like everyone else I've encountered, Polly couldn't believe how little I carried on my bike, as we said our goodbyes and I got my own back on that hill, on which I clocked my highest ever speed of 44.3 mph! Averaged almost 15 mph for the 20 miles into Portland; rider and bike in good shape, smooth roads and the wind onside. I prefer to watch the milometer rather than the speedometer though, as it goes up in hundredths, so I can feel like I'm moving along. I especially enjoy watching the years of my life ticking by from 19.66 onwards, in speedy 17.6 yard increments. I just get enough time to see a single snapshot from each year, like losing my virginity, moving house, getting a job, ending a relationship... Then I can speculate on the year of my demise around 20.56. Going down a massive hill into the city I passed a hobo coming the other way, with twice the load on his bike – in addition to a big rucksack. Seemed strange to be in a cosmopolitan environment again, with its sleek skyscrapers, well-dressed young urbanites and skanky bums. A lots of bums. Had lunch at a yoga centre & cafe, peopled by the 'knit their own bread brigade', androgynous women and bearded men. Here I pleasured myself with a huge (do I use that word too often?) hummus, olive and salad wrap.