Jon George
Mamil and couldn't care less
- Location
- Suffolk an' Good
Last night, after dinner in Dedham, I decided to drive back via country roads to Ipswich. Near Tattingstone there is a notorious stretch where a number of fatal accidents have occurred - probably because some people feel encouraged to speed up after a succession of twisting corners. (I've had so many close passes on my bike, I think twice about taking the route when riding out that way.)
I'm driving just under 60mph, full-beams on, and with so little other traffic, my main concern is suicidal animals rushing into the road. Just as I approach the base of a long, slow rise, another car coming the other way crests the hill. I switch to dipped and take my foot off the accelerator.
In retrospect, if I hadn't have been so quick at switching from main to dip, I might have caught an earlier glimpse of the cyclist struggling up the hill.
The on-coming car is slightly dazzling me, I slow even more, and a split second before we are about to pass each other, I catch sight of a rather dim back light and a reflective sash.
I brake. I brake hard.
Again, in retrospect, there would have been enough room, but I would not like to have been responsible for whizzing past a cyclist and giving him the sort of close pass we all so hate.
He gave me a wave of thanks. I gave him a toot of thanks for the wave of thanks. And started breathing again.
I have no idea if he was truly aware how the confluence of events had a damn good go a conspiring to cause a serious accident.
But I am.
Be careful out there, folks.
I'm driving just under 60mph, full-beams on, and with so little other traffic, my main concern is suicidal animals rushing into the road. Just as I approach the base of a long, slow rise, another car coming the other way crests the hill. I switch to dipped and take my foot off the accelerator.
In retrospect, if I hadn't have been so quick at switching from main to dip, I might have caught an earlier glimpse of the cyclist struggling up the hill.
The on-coming car is slightly dazzling me, I slow even more, and a split second before we are about to pass each other, I catch sight of a rather dim back light and a reflective sash.
I brake. I brake hard.
Again, in retrospect, there would have been enough room, but I would not like to have been responsible for whizzing past a cyclist and giving him the sort of close pass we all so hate.
He gave me a wave of thanks. I gave him a toot of thanks for the wave of thanks. And started breathing again.
I have no idea if he was truly aware how the confluence of events had a damn good go a conspiring to cause a serious accident.
But I am.
Be careful out there, folks.
- sounds like good driving on your part. 
