First, let me explain. I often felt like I should be writing a diary, but never ever got round to it. Alright, I added a few notes in an appointments book for a couple of years, but not anything that could be called a diary. We used to write diaries at school - 'What I did last night' was the starter for 10. Of course, it would never be 'what I did yesterday' because then the teacher would realise what we thought of her/him. I don't remember which teacher insisted on diaries, all I remember is that it was quite a problem finding something to put in them each day.
Which brings me back to this. I don't suppose it is a diary as such, although I suppose you could say it was. I guess we'll have to see how it pans out. If it goes the way of most of my whims, it will be just that - a whim, petering out in a few days/weeks/months until it's just a distant memory of 'why the heck did I do that?'.
To make sure I have some pertinent, recent information, I should write about my Tuesday night incident on my bike. This is the real reason I'm starting this, but hopefully I'll get that down later.
The bike incident. I was whizzing down Nettleton Hill - the one that joins up to the Viking Way is how I always describe it if I get a puzzled look, although that often gets the same response. If you don't know it, it's one of the steepest roads in the Lincolnshire Wolds, which might make you think it's almost flat, but I was up to 38mph (according to my Garmin 310XT - other sports watches are available) when a red tractor and trailer appeared from the slight right hand curve of the hill. Brakes went on, shudder started, brakes went off a little - phew, I can get past. Eeek! as I slotted past the tractor, another tractor and trailer coming out of a farm track - you know, the one where gravel always runs out of when it's rained a bit, and it quickly dawned on me that I needed to apply the brakes again. The biggest problem with this was that I was running on gravel thrown off the verge by the recent rain and my braking was having almost no effect. With almost no thinking time, I made the decision that the only way out of this was to try and get up the track the tractor was coming out of and hope there was enough room to slow down. Unfortunately, the track was just that - a track and turned at almost 90 degrees, so although F1 cars might have benefited, my skinny tyres were useless both turning and stopping me. At the last moment before I hit the fence, I must have gripped that little bit harder on the brakes, I crashed to the ground and the next moment I was lying there wondering what the flip had happened. I stood up totally unscathed save for a small cut on my shin. My bike was upside down a couple of yards up the track, and also unscathed as far as I could tell. I felt very relieved.
The tractor driver came ambling towards me (he wasn't a light man) with a concerned look, and we both patted ourselves on the back for coming out of it in one piece.
So, my conclusion? Don't try and go fast down this hill (without someone in front).
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