Still a bit sore from my crash in France. I originally thought it was an accident, but I’ve changed my mind. See, the thing is that the paint on the road said ‘go right’, the gravel on the road said ‘go right’, there was a large sign on the road to the left that showed it was a ‘no through road’, but Dave still turned left. Attempted murder I now call it. He knew that it was gonna be a hard week where we’d ride and ride until one of us cracked, so he decided to take me out!
Went to France last week, took my road bike. Had some long rides around the Mont Blondes area in mind. My friend Dave came along, ‘cos Carla wasn’t really happy about me going by myself.On our second day, we set of toward Les Monts, the weather was fine, and we were keen to get some miles in our legs. We had been riding about 5 minutes along lovely country lanes when we came to a fork in the road. Dave went one way, and I went the other. As a result, we rode into each other and ended up on the floor!
We lay here on the road in agony. Two daft old sods who should have known better. A deserted road, in rural France, and we’d crashed into each other. Some 15 minutes later we were riding again, in agony, covered in blood and dirt, back the way we had come. That was the last ride I did that week.