Seeing Red

Commuting to work has recently been very uneventful. I did eventually fettle the brakes on the cross bike, the front having being squeaking when used for ages, but when the back one started, I admitted defeat and adjusted both. Despite the heavy rain we’ve been getting at irregular intervals, I seem to have avoided it so that riding to and from work has at least let me stay dry. This morning’s ride in was worthy of a mention as a cheeky scoundrel dressed in full fixie fashionista regalia jumped every set of lights on the way in. His pop culture outfit was slightly undone by the fact that he clearly wasn’t man enough to ride fixed, or even singlespeed and was riding on some non-descript road bike. He wasn’t going very fast either. I contemplated ‘having a word’ when I caught him up, but then as I didn’t fancy ending up under a bus I never did. Cock.

Author: Cris Bloomfield

Usually mountain biking in the North.

3 thoughts on “Seeing Red”

  1. There’s always been a scene in Manchester, it just seems to have percolated down the ranks from the hardy to the foolhardy…

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