Thursday, 23 August 2012

The Highway Code

Curious onlookers wer treated to the sight of yours truly carrying his bike along the road rather than the more usual other way round. The joys of country lane cycling were interupted by a flail hedge trimmer depositing 20 trillion sharp objects per 100metres and having just got over feeling all flat in the tyre department I decided not to risk a longer walk by riding over the prickly surface.
Once past the obstacle course a quick remount led to another dilemma. Should a 50% lycra clad fat bloke over take a tractor as we sped  along the bypass?
Our paths crossed at the roundabout, he shooting straight across, me joining at speed from his left, we were around 100metres apart as we headed along the bypass. I could see I was gaining, albeit slowly. He could see I was gaining and with a puff of exhaust fumes piled on the revs to pull away.
Except he didnt.
 I kept gaining.
 I could see him watching me in his mirrors as I slowly closed in.
Now I wasnt racing, honest. (of course I was!)
He definately was.
I was keeping pace wondering what to do, the question going around my head almost as fast as my pedals were going was should a sweaty fat bloke attempt an over take of a massivley horsepowered blue behemoth with all the bells, whistles, flashing strobe lights, sat nav, radio, TV DVD, CD multi changer microwave and drinks dispenser as is now required by farmers, on his people powered badly set up R200 racer?
This was closely followed by question two which was if the answer to question one was yes, then how long would it be before tractor squished impertenant cyclist for showing it up.
 I decided that what was best was to tuck in behind tractor and take advantage of slipstream, my very own massive turbo charged peloton.
But again as I moved in I had less work to do as I was now slip streaming enormous diesel machinery and this meant I got the urge to go faster, just because I could which led to a repeat of question one.
The race was on.
 Thankfully for both of us the farmer turned off before the answers to Q1 and Q2 could be found. But what if he hadnt, what is the right thing to do when faced with a slow petrol head?
I should have put a pic of the badly set up R200 cooling off in the setting sun, you know, the inspirational sporty type shot, bike porn magazine style. But I dont have any and as a pig is probably chewing the back wheel it wouldnt look too good. So here is a pic to show that the chicks, or at least some of them have survived 48 hours here.

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