Can anyone produce a more inspired commuter-genius moment than this one, from my back pages:
It was during some Big Floods a few years ago and my commute took me across the Severn. I'd driven in the day before and just made it through a section of flooded road, so instead of a car or the road bike I took a 'roadified' Hardtail MTB. That was the genius of my plan.
I figured the flood to be about pedal depth (actually I just guessed from the levels I'd driven through), so I put phone & wallet into sealed bags and went for it. There were showers and clean clothes at the office.
By Tirley, where the road descends onto the flood meadows of the Severn, all was well. I saw the flood water had come over half a mile from the banks, which was not unexpected. There were a few commuters who'd stopped their cars. It was one of those situations where everyone just stands and looks at the flood...
This was where my plan would show my true mastery of the elements. I whooshed down the slope of the valley and into the shallow part of the flood. Only it wasn't shallow.
Within a few bike lengths, my wheels were off the ground and I was in that strange state between bouyancy and drowning. The wheels simply would not be forced back onto the ground, I was up to my neck and starting to topple. Game over.
Had I bothered to look at the road signs a few metres into the flooded section, I'd have seen they were only just peeping out of the water. Down I went in a sort of slow-motion, sub-aqua way and unclipped my feet while trying to hold my breath. I popped up and got a round of (sarcastic) applause. I dragged my bike out of the flooded river by its back wheel and set off home.
It took forever to get home, because I was shivering like a wet kitten in Siberia.
Has a bicycle commuter ever been more stupid and lived?
I doubt it.
It was during some Big Floods a few years ago and my commute took me across the Severn. I'd driven in the day before and just made it through a section of flooded road, so instead of a car or the road bike I took a 'roadified' Hardtail MTB. That was the genius of my plan.
I figured the flood to be about pedal depth (actually I just guessed from the levels I'd driven through), so I put phone & wallet into sealed bags and went for it. There were showers and clean clothes at the office.
By Tirley, where the road descends onto the flood meadows of the Severn, all was well. I saw the flood water had come over half a mile from the banks, which was not unexpected. There were a few commuters who'd stopped their cars. It was one of those situations where everyone just stands and looks at the flood...
This was where my plan would show my true mastery of the elements. I whooshed down the slope of the valley and into the shallow part of the flood. Only it wasn't shallow.
Within a few bike lengths, my wheels were off the ground and I was in that strange state between bouyancy and drowning. The wheels simply would not be forced back onto the ground, I was up to my neck and starting to topple. Game over.
Had I bothered to look at the road signs a few metres into the flooded section, I'd have seen they were only just peeping out of the water. Down I went in a sort of slow-motion, sub-aqua way and unclipped my feet while trying to hold my breath. I popped up and got a round of (sarcastic) applause. I dragged my bike out of the flooded river by its back wheel and set off home.
It took forever to get home, because I was shivering like a wet kitten in Siberia.
Has a bicycle commuter ever been more stupid and lived?
I doubt it.
