So what better way of spending an evening than going for a bike ride. Strangely no one else wants to go, Mrs BW preferring her exercise class at the local swimming pool, and the fledglings……yeah okay stupid question. So I go on my own. Its a perfect evening. The sun is shinning, its warm but not oppressive, I feel relaxed and in a good mood. The bike has rested in the garage since the recent epic cycle ride and needs to be taken out. I pump up the tyres and set off.
Some kids kicking a ball about snigger as I pass. They laugh at my cycling helmet. I ignore them. Down past the golf club past the nineteenth hole where a few early drinkers raise a glass as I whizz by. This is good.
I decide to put a bit of effort into it and change gear. There is a grating noise. There shouldn’t be a grating noise. I look down. The chain has come off, in fact worse it has snapped. The sun goes in. Something black and growling is sitting on my shoulder.
I lay the bike tenderly on the grass verge and fiddle pitifully with the snapped chain. I will have to walk back. I try to think of a bright side. I can’t other than the fact that I could be further from home than I am, but I don’t really call that a bright side.
I should have listened to the man in the bicycle repair shop who when I asked him if he could give my bike the once over before I did my sponsored ride, said that he could, but he would feel less guilty stealing sweets from children. It was knackered and not worth spending any money on. Of course I didn’t listen to him. But I did do the sponsored ride, so I guess the bright side is that the chain could have gone on the Cat and Fiddle.
Maybe its time for a new bike, after all its been fourteen years since my last one.