Last week I had to drop the car off for a service on the way to work. So I dusted my trusty Brompton off (a folding bike, if you didn’t know) and put it in the boot so that I could cycle from the garage to the tram stop.
Now I’m a competent, skilful cyclist. I cycle with grace and ease. To watch me cycle is like watching a ballet. Except there’s no choreography and the dancer wears cycle shorts[1].
So just how did I manage to run myself over?
As I pulled up to the kerb, I gracefully took my right leg over the back of the bike in readiness for a swift, moving dismount onto the kerb. I do it all the time. It looks cool and people usually line the kerb and applaud in appreciation of such finesse.
On this occasion, I allowed my right foot to drag across the road a touch and the short wheelbase of the folding bike caught me out. The back wheel ran my right foot over.
I wobbled, swerved a little, panicked even more but didn’t get run over by a car or fall off the bike.
I didn’t look cool. Not even a bit.
Keep Pedalin'
Gazza
