The Cyclist Grim

On a rainy day, after days of intense development, its time to deploy my Anti-shard device on the Trail.

Cunningly designed to slip under the bike rack and run along the cross bar unobtrusively. Held in place by bungy cords, for a quick draw.

The Peace [of mind] Maker is revealed to the wide world. My sawn off broom with stubby bristles and reinforced head, hits the shards hard, and sweeps them aside... like raindrops on denim.

Ok, so there is still some blistering work to be done,

Meanwhile nature itself, has entered the fray, deciding to cover this glassy blight, with hanging branches and nibbling away at the very edges of the trackl, even going so far as to grow long tall fronds into the very centre of the trail - from both sides.

Each wet slap of a branch, or brush with the stinggies "It fscking pisses us off , Yes-s-s it does my Precious, Yes-s-s"

So I'm thinking to myself, 'Phase II should include Horticultural Implements, especially those of a long and pointy nature - with sharp edges.

There is after all, space on the other side of the rack.

A Scythe would not only look amazing, but its the size of your blade that earns respect in No_Mans_Land.

Black cycling garb, I already have a white[ish] bike.

So beware the Cyclist Grim and his sawn off Reaper[ and broom], and an hour-glass in the spokes!

I think we have this years red0nose-day sorted....

\Maes

P.S. The Scabs are off: see "Epidermis by the wayside"

Epidermis by the way-side

So almost perfect cycling conditions, No wind, except that which I generate. Cool, overcast, just a tad humid perhaps?

Headed out late aiming to miss the dog walkers, and pedestrians on the Trail.

Rode for an hour until 9.30pm, when its time to head home. as Maes only has flashers on the bike for Summer. The goal is back - just as the going gets dark.

In fact I was just reflecting on what a great ride, and fantastic workout it had been, when I hit the log, at speed...

Over the years, my notion of having an "actual Nemesis" has diminished somewhat. It's become a more diffuse resistance. The actual "thwarting of plans" has become mere obstacles en-route.

So its with some excitement that I am able to report bona-fida Nemesis like behaviour. Its not just paranoia, with evidence, and in the hurting flesh [Well it definitely affected my skin!]

When I "came around", it was almost dark, the bike was on top of me, with my leg entangled in the frame. My fist sensation, aside from hurting was the taste of blood.

The dogs from the nearby farm were going mad, so I presume it was a noisy business.

I guess that the events - "post log", didn't make it into long-term memory. The last thing I can recall, is seeing the log completely across the road, just before I hit it, and optimistically thinking [having no other choice], I wonder if I can go over this?

Answer: NO.

I can however break the log, at a speed of around 18mph, but not without some personal cost, and wheels no longer touching the ground.

It was actually the perfect spot for an ambush, around a slight bend, where the tree canopy from both sides makes for very gloomy conditions, compounded by the fading light - an absolute winner.

It definitely was not there when I wend down about an hour before - and just as a matter of note, I clear obstacles I come across on my way down, so I wont have to face them on the way back...

I stagger up to the farm wall about 50ft as they have exterior stable lights - and realise I have lost my glasses [again]. This makes self examination difficult.

Finding one's glasses, without the benefit of glasses using a flashing LED in the dark, should be an Olympic sport.

I also want to add, that I am always supremely confident that my glasses will be OK: Foresight and planning- and this has happened before...

The ultra-light, Shatter resistant, scratch-proof, photo chromatic lenses, with bifocals and Titanium frames, come at a pigs ransom but they are tough. The flaw with all this quite aerodynamic technology is that they fly pretty far after a shock.

I am happy to report, I won gold this time.

Left side took the brunt. Several layers of skin, presumably on the road, since its no longer on my person.

The usual "Gravel rash" but a swelling right temple [all skin present and correct] and lacerated palms, which stayed numb for a few days to-glove.

[Note to self, carry more and bigger handkerchiefs]

So who could have done this dastardly act?

The log was too big and heavy - for kids, and shows uncommon intelligence for Teens in the area.

If it had been a bit further along , in what I call " no mans land" anything goes, and I would not have discounted the above so easily.

I ride more slowly there - expecting trouble, I have met burning wheelie bins, refrigerators scattered rubbish and smouldering cars. There are token attempts at blocking the trail with branch, or pulled down from the trees above, but they seem more opportunistic than planned. Oh, did I mention broken glass for days...

Felt pretty safe "throttling-up" in the area where this happened tho. It would be a supreme vanity to think it was directed at me [something I am prone too].

I suspect it was the farmer, and actually aimed at the youngsters - who ride motorbikes, despite the Turnstiles, up and down the track.

I have previously seen him cutting branches - and they "somehow" made it onto the road by the time I came back. Nothing on this scale tho, and they could always be avoided - and then moved.

Today was the first day I have been able to go out and revisit, intending to take some photographs. ALL the evidence has been removed, not even pushed to the side, just gone.

A Nemesis with a guilty conscience perhaps?

The trip did pay off tho' - if only I had heeded the omens.

The picture is not staged at all, its as I found it , and as it has been for at least a week. After the turnstile is no-mans-land, and the wrecked bike is not warning cyclists about entering n-m-l, but leaving it! An effigy warning of things-to-come.

Bye the way - all is well now, epidermis healing, there is no cause for alarm.

Maes

The Quick and the Dead

This evenings Lecture was on Object Orientated Programming, "OOP" for short, and inevitably led to a discussion Of "Classes". The given example expressed the "Class" of "Human Beings" and its associated characteristics.

Never one to miss injecting a philosophical angle, I inquired if dead people were members?

Which reminded me that a funny thing happened on the way to School today...

The Winter storms seem to have finally broken, and although there is still a little snow around, this is the second fine day in a row.

The previous few weeks have seen nightmare cycling to School. Snow-storms, sleet, hail and crashing on the ice [A lot]. I managed to split my Helmet, smash my lights and bend the seat - all with only minor physical injuries, but major mental questioning.

So I really needed to take a long ride yesterday, to remind myself "why I love cycling". There was no need to go anywhere, nor be somewhere at a specific time for any purpose, I just rode. About 40 miles worth as it turns out.

So today. suitably invigorated I decided to let rip (muscles, tendons, you know those characteristics of being "Class" human) and after my 5 mile warm-up, I'm ready to tackle the section of open road between towns, I call the "endless mile".

(Because before I has an odometer I thought it was about a mile, rather than being closer to 3 miles).

Its fairly flat (for around here) and with only a slight head-wind, I soon hit my top speed of 24mph. Now I can't sustain this for long, but its brilliant just being there for a while.

So imagine my consternation to be overtaken by a dead guy.

As I have no-more to give, I rapidly fall behind, and at last and least, resort to abuse. "What are you, late for a funeral or something?" I think uncharitably as the procession of Death, passes me by.

The Hearse was long gone and a further thought, "this would look bad on paper" - better not to write it down then.

RIP.

/Maes

Obstacles in your bispectacles

Stung, by the youthful embodiment of hiring wisdom, in response to my application for a job. Effectively saying, "Your too old fashioned..."

I have decided to embrace the full breadth of New Media.

To set the scene:

Your Human powered machine - is tackling one of the many challenging byways, first laid down by the Romans.

You come to a bend...On the other side, are assorted fellow pilgrims blocking the way. A Lady with a pushchair, A Man with a dog, Youngsters being young.

The old Maes would have said, "excuse me please", "watch your backs", "coming through", but that is just so 2008...

In 2009 we play.



Immutable objects and Horses, are dealt with on a case-by-case basis.
Usually they require a stop, a trip into the hedge, or a collision.

M.