IT’S NEIGH BOTHER

Until my epiphany at a bridge outside York this summer, I had horses all wrong. I’d run away with the idea, or rather cycled away, that they were just forerunners of bikes. I’d seen too many gushing 1880s odes to the new safety bicycle, framing it as an iron horse that needed no stable, no hay, no water; permanently saddled, ready to go.

So I