it's not the crashing

but the aftermath that matters. i'm off up to destination x on monday. i notice, on the drive up the glen, it's just a wee tad icy. no matter i think, a couple of hours of 'sunshine' will sort that nicely. sadly no. i do avoid sliding off down the hill in one direction and into a cliff in the other, all this observed by some woman who's been doing a u-turn to avoid the slidiness. being an audi driver tho, she decides that the most appropriate response to my weaving about is to drive about fifteen feet behind me. choice! so i think i've made it, just at the last corner before the main road, when the van loses it and i plough into a field. audi woman drives past, face full of inconvenience, doesn't stop, doesn't acknowledge me, nothing.

the next car along does, four wee old folk looking out, slowing down, saying 'look there's some boy crashed into a field.'. stopping, offers of help? nothing. and then the next car! and again nada.

later i get asked how the crashing makes me feel. great, i say (not the answer that was being looked for!), i like that out of control then getting to walk away feeling. true, the banging about didn;t make my spine feel the best but otherwise, no problem. what gets me is the folk driving by. i don't understand that. a daily uncaring that makes me die a little every time i see it. these people i think, must be a different species.

and then to the cycling. the planned trip to destination x is off due o the icy crash risk so we decide we'll go out more locally. gymbolina has, as predicted, dodged out of an appearance. all the better for me to get more training in for next time! and more specifically because the impending races seem awfully close. but off we go up the hill. take it easy on us say the boys as we make our way up the steepest way possible. and i sort of do. my legs feel better than last week but i'm still getting strange drops in power. fortunately my head seems set right so i just ease off and cycle within myself. i'm still a front ring below where i should be tho.

anyway, the general meandering goes on. my erratic performance means everyone gets a chance to overtake me (or leave me behind!) which is great for the group dynamic and, in its way, good for me. our alternate destination is a good choice as it's almost dry and out of the (chilly) wind. we have a few detours thru some more technical forest sections, just to remind them what they'd be getting in destination x and there is much hilarity. of course i then get lost, have to put a bit of speed on to catch up. the problem being that the last bit we do is beech forest so the ground is leaf covered. of course when i say the ground i mean the fallen branches. fallen branches covered in moisture and general leaf mould.

my front wheel slides over a monster one of these, like i'm doing some sort of rail grind. except i'm really not. i catapult off the bike. dead sailor? no, a proper head over heels somersault followed by some it really should be on the gymastics mat rolls before i faceplant in the mulch. easily the biggest and best off i've had this year. i get up, dust myself off - unbelievably unhurt! and then i look around. not a soul. not even a glimmer of lights.

of course when i find them no-one wants to know. what took you they say. i had a massive off i say. yeah right they respond and off down the hill, an unwitnessed off being like the fish that got away - a story that might well have truth in it but with no one to see it isn't even worth the retelling.

i get home, mud spattered and happy. i fell off my bike i declare. did you dear, says t, now go and wash...