Expect The Unexpected

A nice and sunny ride in this morning, if a little chilly. I passed a chap on his bike in shorts, t-shirt and no gloves. Even I’d be cold dressed like that. If he persists with his minimalist clothing approach, in a few months time he’ll need assistance to park his bike in his company’s car park, as he’ll still be attached to it and his colleagues will have to come out to chip his fingers off the handle bars.

MD’s in bad books again. L described him as 'particularly highly strung' this morning and has threatened him once again with 'the operation'. She reckons he’s got his paws protecting vital parts of his anatomy that he's rather fond of as we speak. I have visions of him doing like footballers do when standing in the wall awaiting a free kick.



The sunny weather doesn’t last and it’s a wet cycle home. Rain has a funny effect on peoples' driving. I always ride expecting at least one driver to do something stupid and dangerous but somehow the wet increases the likelihood of this. I totally expect the car that pulls up alongside me to turn left across me at the next side street, 30 metres ahead, despite the fact it is showing no sign of indicating that it wishes to do so and there is simply no way it will get to the junction before I do. What I didn't expect was it to turn into a drive way two houses before the turn. A serious breaking manoeuvre was required, which wasn't easy in the wet.

Then a chap in Land Rover Libido forces me into the middle lane at the Bramcote roundabout, not where I wanted to be and not where I started out, which was in the left hand lane. Even then, after he’d nearly gone over the top of me, he didn’t show any indication of having seen me. Some people just look right through you.

Then it’s off to train Doggo, one of his last remaining Wednesday sessions.