Wednesday, 25 November 2009

The winged nemesis

This morning I fought off potholes, bad driving and road crud as I pedalled into work. I did the commute in the standard half hour and apart from getting annoyed by the weather (too cold not to wear a jacket but you're well sweaty when you get to work) the ride was unremarkable.

Having gone unpadded yesterday I was mightily relieved to be back in my Gorewear leggings with their ergonomic protection for lady bits. You think a bit of foam wouldn't make that much difference but when you hit that speed bump you feel the love.

But anyhoo so there I was, speeding along despite the wind when there he stood. His bead-like eyes staring at me. He was like a statue, daring me to a game of chicken, ignoring the irony that he was, in fact, a pigeon.

I set a course and put my head down to charge. He remained still, serene in the morning breeze, seemingly unaware of my ability to squash him with barely a bump. He stared into me... then... suddenly, he was away, jumping up towards my face and flapping towards me in a mess of feathers and rage.

I squealed and swerved a bit to avoid him then he was gone... to where nobody knows.


  1. I hit a pigeon once. The mess was unbelievable.

  2. I'm actually quite scared of pigeons when I cycle... I figure it might actually hurt a lot, and then I feel like a total spanner when I duck unnecessarily...

  3. I always duck and squeal then feel like a total tit. Most embarrassing. I think it's because I saw a 'Real rescues' type programme where a motorcyclist hit a pheasant and came off. The pheasant didn't come off terribly well either.