In 1979 when I was twelve, my dad died in February and I had left school by September because I was bullied.
My membership of a boys choir throughout the remainder of my teenage years ensured the receipt of similar ongoing behaviour from my peers (mum – what were you thinking!?).
So when the 6am-er Hurt Box crew let loose on me a couple of weeks ago because I had installed mud-guards on my bike, it wasn’t really going to have much of an impact on me. As the group rolled through I was treated with creative comments from my mates who were thinking up new lines every rotation.
Duke had put out the challenge (see here) so I thought I should do what I could not to disappoint. Hence, my accessory for this morning…
The basket compliments of my neice and the daisy flower compliments of my lovely daughter Lucy.
Note the accompanying bell. I was looking forward to dinging through every rotation as I passed The Duke and Foggy but it broke as I dinged my welcome to Duke when he joined the group earlier. Bugger it!
So my pink bike now has the mud-guards set for winter. It reflects like a spotlight and the basket and half a bell have made it through one Hurt Box (now removed).
As much as I was brave enough to weather the storm from my mates through one ride – and have a good laugh along with it – I did feel quite insecure as I rode down Flinders Street like this at 7.45a.m. this morning on my own!
El Manetes brought this along for the ride today…
He gave us 40 seconds head-start from Southland but failed to catch us. I empathised with how he felt as he turned onto Beach Road at Mordy to hit the brick wall of a block head-wind. It’s not a wonder.
This is a lovely bike (albeit Cannondale) with the typical paint job and 650B wheels which make his big ring look like a 60 tooth. Good luck next time El.