by Dave Anderson
January 30, 2014
Piers steps up to the challenge of his favourite trail – and fails
I’ve mentioned it before, but the world’s most perfect tree stands in the middle of a field on the southern edge of the Yorkshire Dales. I’ve looked at it for years and if I lived nearer to it I’d take its picture every day at noon for a year and make an arty farty coffee table book of photos called ‘The Tree’. I could go on about it more, but I’d risk you thinking I’m a bit strange and I’d hate to lose a potential customer for my other quotidian photo project: ‘That Field Over There’. Suffice it to say that I point this tree out to people and they invariably agree it is indeed arboreal perfection worthy of comment. But probably not a book.
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At the next gate The One Who Did It Singlespeed is smiling. Not smugly, just happy that he’s having a good ride. In fact, I’m not even sure he knows the enormity of his achievement in my eyes, and any self loathing he harbours isn’t overly apparent. Of course, the climb is still there for me to conquer at some point in the future. But it’ll never be the same for me now the ballet dancer’s done it first and now I regret ever showing him my favourite tree.