However, we have also entered one of the most dangerous and precarious times of the year on England's roads. The spring and summer months will test road users to the absolute limit and bikers in particular will have to be increasingly vigilant in order to avoid the unintended consequences of the most treacherous and perilous of yearly occurrances on our nation's highways. I know what you're thinking: what could be the cause of this clear and present danger? What is it that could be so hazardous and injurious to the health and well-being of those of us on two wheels? And is there anything we can do to mitigate its effects?
Sadly, for those of us of a red-blooded disposition, I fear not. For the danger that I refer to is everywhere around us. There is no avoiding it. I talk of course about the attractive, well-endowed, lithe and (in nice weather) skimpily dressed young ladies that inhabit our cities, towns, villages and suburbs and who, unbeknown to them, encourage us to avert our eyes from the road and imagine journeys of an altogether different kind. We are weak!
Thankfully, the repulsive messes brought to us by the likes of the Jeremy Kyle show are not representative of all women in this country and in London, we are particularly well served for such delights - in particular at rush hour when all the young professionals are travelling to work/the gym/coffee bars etc. Then, later on, the "ladies wot lunch" are out and about.
And let me tell you, none of us is immune. Just the other day in fact I was following three of our boys in blue on police bikes up through Clapham. Realising that my exhaust was, shall we say, of questionable legality and that my number plate may, strictly speaking have been slightly smaller than the law permits I was content to keep a low profile and stay behind them. Then suddenly, into our view came this utterly gorgeous young woman, just walking down the street minding her own business but crucially, boasting all of the aforementioned attributes - long brunette hair, short skirt, nicely shaped legs, immaculate in every way. The inevitable happened.
Police bike number one went into the back of the bus in front - his mate on bike number two ploughed into the back of the first bike. Both went over. The third took avoiding action, as did I. Fortunately, neither rider was hurt and because they were on some huge, indistinguishable BMW-manufactured old crate (looking like the two-wheeled equivalent of a Panzer tank), very little damage was done to the bikes. Red faces and hurt pride were more the order of the day for our brave law enforcers. Now, you might think of these as the inane witterings of a sad old man and maybe you are right(!), but it just goes to show what a moment's distraction can do - and like I say, even the best riders (and the police are the best) are not immune.
In a week or so, a small group of us have a biking weekend in Normandy and Brittany arranged for a bit of Frenchy action. If the weather is nice then we will have the twin hazards of riding on the other side of the road and trying to concentrate amidst the various distractions of the frolicsome, frisky and fantastique young "Filles Francaise". Let's hope they are up to the standards of their London-based counterparts, that we don't attract the attention of the local Gendarmes by keeping eyes front and centre and that we are at some point able to spread a bit of the old Cock-er-nay entente cordiale. Some hope....
As a great man once said: "Mange tout Rodders, mange tout...."
No comments:
Post a Comment