To escape the sensation of captivity that I’ve felt, and also because I’ve a ‘ never say die’ attitude ( translated as ‘ nothing seems to kill me, even when it should have done ) I’ve been venturing further afield by Triride motor attachment.
I got as far as Sevenoaks in Kent, to see Lizzy ( 40 odd miles ) and also to Wokingham to see Leigh and Bev ( 25 miles each way ). Yes I should really have made these trips in the summer, with heat and light on my side… but I didn’t. I waited til the weather got far worse and then tried it.
Aside from all the trips being on the cusp of reckless… I survived, with a sense of independence and adventure enhanced. If I have a mechanical then I’m in Trouble, but I haven’t – at least not far from home.
I say that because only last week on Brentford high street my front wheel actually CAME OFF. Yes.. not worked loose and looked like coming off – it actually came off. I then skidded along the tarmac on the front forks only. Unbelievably I was only doing 3 mph at the time. 5 minutes earlier I’d been doing 35mph in the London traffic Had it come off then… yes I’d be dead. So yer again I cheat death.
Im now on Number 10 Life. That’s more than even the fabled allowance of a cat.
I could catch trains, except the bloody staff have a tendency to not turn up with ramps, leaving me stranded on the trains – not good for my psyche, that one. I feel far more helpless stuck on a stationary train than I do at speed on an A road with trucks thundering past.
Last week I pulled into a lay-by on a major A road to change my Tri battery. There were probably 50 trucks and truckers parked up there … and one fella in a wheelchair changing his little battery pack before throwing himself back into the traffic stream heading south east from London.
Increasingly I’m being filmed by people in passing cars who presumably think it’s a case of bizarre hilarious crazy. You take your pick.