to get back to where I was, but the water sluices at the path and conceals the true way. I ride through, still bold enough to try it but in my nervy scanning for hazards along the channel I forget to throw my feet up as I did as a kid. One sock feels the river cold. I ride on, a little gleeful, dread not stopping me yet. And the water lays swagger over the banks all the way to Osney.