I forgot that I'd left my can-actually-let-it-out-of-my-sight mountain bike at my Brother's house last week.
The '85 Peugeot PH501 has a punctured tubular, and No Way am I ever schlepping to work on my best ride. So I did 10 miles on the bus.
Now starting to feel a mild sense of unease. I won't even win the best loser's apron and broom, since some wag in Cornwall (flooded) will fit flotation bags and paddle-steamer tyre flaps to their Colnago and do a quick 498km. He or she will also make it funny.
Roll on Christmas!
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