THREE pairs of tights were needed for the New Year’s Eve roll out. We started off with the temperature barely above freezing. The dial didn’t move when we headed back to base a couple of hours later.
Brrrrr. That was a bloody cold one.
We played it safe with the tried and tested Bobby George BONER route. I know every kerbside, pothole and potential danger spot inside out. I wasn’t taking any risks on New Year’s Eve.
That still didn’t stop FOUR dickhead motorists from deciding to close pass us. On NYE ffs. It’s not so much the danger that it puts us in; it’s the bloody pain of uploading four separate video clips to Essex Police each time.
But I am a persistent bugger, if nothing else. If you close pass me, I’ll dob you in to the police. I see it as my duty to try and stop you from intimidating other cyclists. So there. Happy bloody New Year, etc.
The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. We passed some road kill by the side of the road. I think it was a fox. Poor thing. Betcha he didn’t have an on board video cam.
An optimistic ice cream van was trying to conjure up some NYE trade towards the Sunny Colch end approach of the ride. Good luck with that one, fella. We pressed on to Lidl and stocked up with some cheapo cheese instead.
Chapeau!
