So, with a view to avoiding any mishaps on the snow and ice, I've not been riding to work for a bit, but rubbing shoulders with the Great Unwashed on the Northern Line. I slipped on ice on my way to the tube station and ended up on my ar$e.
Yesterday, with the thaw well and truly underway, I got the bike out. I managed to find Clapham's Biggest Pot-hole (it was well hidden under a puddle), which by way of revenge launched me head-first onto the tarmac. The helmet is cracked, the head a bit scratched, which is better than the other way round.
Next week, I'm taking the safe option and going on a club-run with The Shadow.