I've been anticipating reaching 200,000 miles for a while now. Only another 38,900 miles to go and I could make it to the moon (had I had my car from new), but not back again. 200,000 miles is a long way and I reached it at Rhostyllen northbound on the A483 this morning.
Hoping that the line of zeros would appear at a more significant moment - when en route with my sons, perhaps, or on arrival at a friend's house - I've been doing some calculations in the past week to anticipate the moment and to try and manufacture some significance.
In the end, it happened about 10 miles earlier than I predicted - something to do with me forgetting to factor in the journey to badminton yesterday evening and the one-way system which sends cars the long way around town.
And so the 9s turned to 0s on a familiar and unsurprising stretch of dual carriageway just outside Wrexham. Pleased that I hadn't missed the moment altogether, I pulled off the road, photographed my milometer. A mile later I photographed it again. I sent a Stanley Kubrick fan this photograph with the message, "Two-hundred-thousand-and-one: some sort of Odyssey?"
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