And I'd do it again.
Coming home yesterday, spotted an ambulance up ahead signalling to pull out. Slowed and gestured to let it out, with the entirely selfish goal of having a vehicle in front of me that others would mostly clear the road, and which would make a nice square hole in the air to draft.
Made it most of the way through town when I was joined in my draft by another bike, far closer on my right hand side than I'd like. Shoulder to shoulder, basically. Still, ignored him, until the ambulance slowed down and we both had to brake. Not hard braking, pretty gentle at the sedate pace we were going, but his brakes made an amazing scraping noise. I turned to him, said "Thats your brakes?", he grinned, said "Yeah", I replied "You wanna get that sorted, mate".
Still before getting out of the town centre, up by Magdelene college, he was up beside me again, and I worked out why his bike made that noise. His 'brakes' were the soles of his shoes dragged on the road.
"You're braking with your shoes while drafting?" I asked.
"Yeah" he said.
"Get the **** off your bike, and walk it home. And do it now, otherwise you're going to die." I perhaps didn't say so in the most polite tone. I perhaps could have taken on a less insistent and intimidating manner.
"I've survived this long" he replied.
"Well, it was nice meeting you before the funeral".
He dismounted at the junction ahead, got off, crossed the road, and continued along the pavement (on to Chesterton lane) on foot. Just as well, because if we'd been in the ASL together I'd have made damned sure all of the other cyclists up in front of the traffic (there were five of us) knew about it too.
Shoulder to shoulder behind an ambulance with a f***wit with no brakes.
Coming home yesterday, spotted an ambulance up ahead signalling to pull out. Slowed and gestured to let it out, with the entirely selfish goal of having a vehicle in front of me that others would mostly clear the road, and which would make a nice square hole in the air to draft.
Made it most of the way through town when I was joined in my draft by another bike, far closer on my right hand side than I'd like. Shoulder to shoulder, basically. Still, ignored him, until the ambulance slowed down and we both had to brake. Not hard braking, pretty gentle at the sedate pace we were going, but his brakes made an amazing scraping noise. I turned to him, said "Thats your brakes?", he grinned, said "Yeah", I replied "You wanna get that sorted, mate".
Still before getting out of the town centre, up by Magdelene college, he was up beside me again, and I worked out why his bike made that noise. His 'brakes' were the soles of his shoes dragged on the road.
"You're braking with your shoes while drafting?" I asked.
"Yeah" he said.
"Get the **** off your bike, and walk it home. And do it now, otherwise you're going to die." I perhaps didn't say so in the most polite tone. I perhaps could have taken on a less insistent and intimidating manner.
"I've survived this long" he replied.
"Well, it was nice meeting you before the funeral".
He dismounted at the junction ahead, got off, crossed the road, and continued along the pavement (on to Chesterton lane) on foot. Just as well, because if we'd been in the ASL together I'd have made damned sure all of the other cyclists up in front of the traffic (there were five of us) knew about it too.
Shoulder to shoulder behind an ambulance with a f***wit with no brakes.