The Mountain Comes to Mahomet*

Bizarre. No sooner do I blog about cycle training and decide it’s not really for me (at least not while my bike is still largely held together with rust and paperclips), than I open my sitting room curtains and discover the cycle training has come to me. Or at least a group of cyclists with prominent ‘cycle training’ tabards have clustered outside our front window and are busy mastering the basics: leaving your bike chained to a private railing, standing around blocking the pavement, and looking like a bit of an arse in high-visibility gear and a helmet. No doubt my own bike, chained up inside the railing, was being used as a teaching aid on how not to maintain one. After about half an hour of furtive curtain twitching (from me) and more talking (from them) they were still there and still talking and apart from a little low-velocity wheeling of bikes up and down the pavement no actual cycling had taken place. Further up the street another group were standing around being talked through a not-very-complicated junction watched by an interested crowd of two drunks, a gang of teenagers and a dog. This is clearly one of the downsides of living on a quiet street in a backwater of London and no doubt as the weather perks up and the fair weather cyclists emerge blinking into the sunshine, we’ll be seeing more of them. Here’s hoping they actually get to ride their bikes in the end.

* It’s just a figure of speech … it’s still OK, isn’t it?


2 responses to “The Mountain Comes to Mahomet*

  1. * so far as any of us know ….

  2. … here’s hoping I don’t find out the hard way

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