I was cycling home along Bury Old Rd, just before crossing the M60. I know, one should always be at max. alert, ready for anything, etc. But the mind drifts after 45min. Suddently, I felt something to my right - not 'heard', felt, for my bike had been 'touched', only slightly. t was another cyclist. A lycra-man, nice racing bike, shades, no luggage other than a bottle of orange stuff, clad in white-red-n-blue like blooming Chris Hoy.
A black van was next to him. I figure he'd been overtaking me, the man in the black van had decided to overtake both of us, and the road had decided to narrow just at that moment. How very inconvenient. I did the only thing I could, which was to stay the course in as straight a line as I was able. The van gave a bit more room, and lycra-man raced ahead, swearing loudly and waving a fist at the van. The the van sped away, and I continued my way home, shaken - not stirred.
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