I had a fitful sleep that included sleeping through a faulty oven alarm at 2am and briefly scooping the cat up and placing him unceremoniously over my head onto the pillow above me before falling asleep again. I took my time before leaving and only had the intention of a short route until some clown in his work van decided to clatter past me on the forest road.
After questioning his parentage and using the eff word more than once about the speed limit and his knowledge of the Highway code, I decided that he wasn’t going to ruin my ride. I made a snap decision and went a homeward bound route in reverse. At every small junction my wheels decided what way we were going taking me further out of the way. My legs had long given up their constant whining about the broken promise of a short meander by way of a rest. The conditions were near perfect, sunny and mild, a breeze not too cool and not too in my face. I could’ve been out all day and if it weren’t for more ABG teaching I would have been tempted to pull a sickie. Except that these days, that involves having a swab shoved down my throat, another up my nose and 48hrs of not leaving the house. Its so unpleasant that my colleagues tell me that they’d rather have their smear test.
With 28km done, I could have a nice short one home at the end of the day. I went the short, busy route via Sheering and was held up by a line of traffic. I filtered in and out slowly making my way, assuming that there was a temporary signal. But no, at the bend where there is an option to continue up to Sheering or turn left to the back of Sawbridgeworth, there had been a motor crash. Having worked in neuro and trauma ICU, this is the definition that we use as the word accident implies that these things are unavoidable. Most are not due to the reckless piloting of vehicles like there is no one else on the road.
Having been the recipient of several blind passes around that corner, I am surprised that there aren’t more. Every time I take that road out of necessity to use the shortest possible route, I feel that I’m taking my life out of my hands in placing it in the hands of idiots (a bit like election time really…). That’s why I call this stretch the Sheering suicide. Anyway, having filtered to the front of the queue, there was a tow truck behind and ambulance attending, parked next to a stationary car. Everyone was going nowhere fast except for me as the kind policeman motioned me through a gap.
And off I went without the threat of any close passers coming up behind. Smiling all the way up the hill to Sheering, and saying, “see ya suckers! ” in my head to the line of people in their motionless cars. However, some people did a reverse 3 point turn and came up behind me by the time I hit the village so it wasn’t all beer and Leamingtons. I had to detour slightly further up to avoid some new top dressing on a road but this suited me fine as the extra cross country distance got me to my 50km daily commute target.
Total UK deaths: 37,460 (412)