The REAL Trotting Horse Lane

A question, disguised as a story, delivered via horse-powered geometry.

When I first moved to Cambridgeshire, I lived near Newmarket. It was deep in the countryside—beautiful, peaceful—but my commute was a disaster, and I didn’t have much time to ride.

Later, I moved closer to Cambridge, but sometimes I’d cycle out near my old routes.

One day, I spotted it:
A road called Trotting Horse Lane.

Of course, I had to ride down it. How could I not? A name like that sets certain expectations. I hoped for a majestic trotting horse. Maybe even a galloping one.

Alas—no horse. Just a tranquil lane and a funny sign.

The original Trotting Horse Lane. No horses were trotting that day. Just one very committed cyclist and a suspiciously photogenic sign.

Still, something about it stuck with me.

I created a route that looped down that road, and every time I passed the sign, I’d stop to take a photo of my bike leaned up against it. I posted my rides to Strava.

And then a curious thing happened:

Other cyclists started doing it too.
Same photo. Same sign. Same spot.

They were doing it because I did it.
And I did it because that lane, that loop—it was beautiful. It filled me with energy. It inspired me. It was the high point of the ride—literally and emotionally.

And so, by way of strange and joyful geometry…

They were doing it for the same reason—

only they didn’t know it yet.

That’s proof by induction.

But…

That’s not the REAL Trotting Horse Lane.

Near where I live now, there’s another lane. I pass it on my lunchtime walk. On either side are paddocks. Normally, there are horses there. Sometimes they trot. Sometimes they stroll. Sometimes they just stand, chewing grass like philosophers.

One day I met a horse I named Twixy Nuzzlesalot (not her real name—she’s not mine, but I’ve adopted her spirit). She liked me. She kept trying to say “Hi.” I was too shy at first.

But Twixy persisted.

Eventually, I gave in. I said hello.

Now I have other equine friends too:
BoopBoop Nuzzlesalot, Coco “Sprinkles” Pudding,
Tiramisu Fluffington and Lady Carrotboop-Heythatsmyfingers.

My lunchtime walk is something I look forward to every day.
It’s beautiful. It inspires me. It fills me up.

I don’t lean my bike against them and take a photo.
I give them carrots.
They give me boops.
Sometimes they form a guard of honour as I walk past.

It’s only neigh-bourly.

A spontaneous guard of honour, formed by the ever-dignified Tiramisu Fluffington and Twixy Nuzzlesalot. Snacks and boops were exchanged. Respect was earned.

But…

That’s not the REAL Trotting Horse Lane either.

The truth is—they both are.
And neither.

I have many Trotting Horse Lanes.
Some are lined with actual horses.
Some just say the word.
Some are empty moors or mountain passes—like Axe Edge Moor, or the Galibier.

They all give me the same thing:

Energy. Inspiration. Joy.

So here’s my question:

Where is your REAL Trotting Horse Lane?
What’s the place that makes you feel lighter, stronger—more like yourself?

Go there.
Take a breath.
Say hello.

You might even get a boop.

Footnote:

For those wondering, the official Nuzzlesalot family currently includes:

Twixy Nuzzlesalot – Trailblazer. Boop initiator. Friend-maker.
BoopBoop Nuzzlesalot – Twixy’s possible cousin. Sneaky and snack-savvy.
Coco “Sprinkles” Pudding – Dignified dessert horse. May or may not rule the paddock.
Tiramisu Fluffington – Brown with a delicate white patch. Sweet, reliable, and suspiciously dessert-themed.
Lady Carrotboop-Heythatsmyfingers – A lonely but impeccably classy black horse. Elegant… until snacks are involved.

All names are unofficial, unverified, and completely accurate in spirit.
New members welcome. Bribes accepted. Carrots encouraged. 🥕🐴

Davide la Locomotive