by Mike I » Wed May 20, 2009 9:34 pm
Well, the commuting gods managed to smite me not once, not twice, but three times this evening.
Ping, twang! Broken spoke just by Tower Bridge. I managed to tweak a few spokes so it wobbled between the brake blocks and carried on, but without putting too much power through the back wheel.
Screech, whack, thump! A Mercedes turns right across my path by Clapham North, bringing me down in an impressive heap in front of the early evening drinkers at the Falcon. A few scars, but nothing broken on me, a fairly mangled front wheel on the bike. But who should be following said motorist down the road, but PC Plod on the way to an 'incident'. Saw it all, they did, took details, suggested I get a no-win, no-fee lawyer to grab me a couple of grand (yeah, right, I had to break my shoulder last time to get that much) and told me 'If his insurers muck you about, let us know and we'll do him for driving without due.' I'm still in two minds as to whether I should be concerned or reassured by this display of summary justice.
Anyway, the driver offers to take me home, but doesn't have room for my bike. The police have some serious policing to do, so can't give me a lift in their van, so I call Mrs I, as my front wheel is now stuck fast. While I'm putting the bike in the car though, it seems a major fire has broken out on Kings Avenue - more police, fire engines, billowing smoke, the lot. Including road closures. Diversions, traffic and what should have been the last 10 minutes meant that it took another 30 to get home.
After that little lot, I reckon commuting should be pretty much plain sailing for the next 14 years or so.