On the 10th day of the month August, Year of Our Lord 2014, the Lord did send a mighty storm from America to deluge our land. On the same day, a host of cyclists, 32,000 in number, were to ride a prodigious distance of 100 miles but the high priests of Londinium, fearing catastrophic accidents, saw fit to shorten the distance to 86 miles. The American storm duly fell upon us; great was the wailing and gnashing of teeth, especially gear teeth and derailleurs. Many were the punctures due to debris washed into the path of the pilgrims. The rain was less than that sent a few thousand years earlier to test the resolve of Noah, and being American rain it was warm and not accompanied by a gale or by a plague of frogs so the cyclists, being of rugged disposition, carried on regardless of being soaked and having squelchy pads in their shorts. The high priests did hand out a multitude of gels at the foot of a small bump feared by those from the south and named Wimbledon Hill, but verily those of us from the north of England did take wings over this rise and scoff at the smallness of the hill, and by the time they arrived in the city of Westminster the clouds had parted and abundant sunshine blessed the land. Great was the rejoicing and many were the burgers, kebabs and chips consumed by all, by His merciful bounty. Amen.