This was going to be a twitter “inanity” originally but too much happened on the way in to fit into 160 characters…
Most weeks I ride to work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays on the (*shudder*) road bike. Mostly, for the traffic density, it’s quite incident free. I get the occasional SMIDSY* but otherwise it’s a near all downhill 5 mile run from my home town to the city centre. This morning was different however. Autumn is definitely here when as I pulled the skinny wheeled instrument of pain from the batcave the 15mph winds buffeted my ample form hither and thither. Leaving the suburban cul de sac where we reside one of our actually quite lovely neighbours reversed from his drive far too quickly nearly taking me out. Leaving the “bottom of the bag” another neighbour passes too close and I swap one or two ahem choice words with him. At the first roundabout with it’s blind corner hindrance a cager travelling way too quickly for the curve screeches past testing the limits of friction as I waited at the junction.
With a rare tail wind I zoomed along the dual carriageway with a bus keeping pace on my rear wheel. In the lay-by to the left a commuter freezing in the October conditions held his arm aloft signalling his need for transport. The near empty peasant wagon roared past him, reinforcing why I don’t use buses on this fair isle anymore. Further on my hate-hate relationship with UK public transport continued when another commuter stuck out a limb he obviously didn’t care for and I had to duck lest my head be taken off in a clothes line tackle worthy of Rubgy Leagues dirtiest bring downs. With barely two miles to go things calmed down until the Traffic Police car began to weave in and out of lanes using his ESP indicators. Using only the power of his mind we all telepathically knew exactly which lane he needed to be in. Less than a mile now from the city and the traffic is stalling backwards, a mile long snarling choking metal alligator snaking back to the motorway. I’m in my element, the urban warrior sneaking in and out of gaps, taking chances and blasting past the queue. Or as reality would have it the chunky bloke in eye watering lycra weaving wildy in and out causing cursing and profanity in his wake.
For all the exitement of the Death Race to work the tricyclopean gods of traffic calming smiled on me as I sailed through each light green for go. It would appear that even here on the tarmac Karma must be earned.
Fat Lad
*Sorry Mate I Didn’t See You
***FAT LAD BULLETIN***
Saturday morning I joined Ackworth Dave** for the Ackworth Amble. A cracking 20ish miles exploration ride with some superb bits of trail to be enjoyed. But Dave has set a precedent. Before we left his warm homestead and headed out to tame nature with our metal steeds the fine young man and his lovely wife saw fit to furnish me with a bacon butty and a brew. Please be aware fellow riders that should I be starting from your abode I now expect this high level of welcome too. That is all.
** Technically Low Ackworth Dave but lets not split hairs I don’t have many left to be destroying.
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