Alpacas and road rash

by Dan

Had a fair bit of time on the bike over the last few days as I was down in the New Forest for a training weekend.

It was actually training with my running club but there's plenty of time to do other things too. Like drink beer and play cards. And watch the rain hammering it down outside.

I went down to Salisbury by train on Friday with my brother and two bikes. The plan was to ride from Salisbury down to Sandy Balls, where we were staying. I mentioned to Joe there was an alpaca farm en route and we should stop to take a pic.

One brother, two bikes

I spotted the sign for the farm when we'd just come off the bottom of a steep downhill and were fairly motoring along. I pointed the sign out to Joe behind me and made a signal to slow down and stop.

Unfortunately, Joe looked round at my first signal and missed the rather important second one. He was also a bit confused because we were having a round of pub cricket and he thought he was looking for a pub, so spent a little longer with his eyes off the road than perhaps he ought to have.

The first I knew about any of this was when I pulled to a halt, looked round and saw Joe bulleting towards me. At the last instant, he looked in front and didn't much like what he saw. He pulled hard on his brakes, crashed into my back wheel and parted company with his bike.

When the dust settled, I was left with a back wheel that was too buckled to spin and a brother who was too miffed for words. We took the wheel off the bike, wedged it under the gate of the alpaca farm and Joe jumped up and down on it until it was halfway flat again. Then we did what you always have to do: get back in the saddle.

Happily, it wasn't too far to Sandy Balls, and there was even a pub on the way.*

The alpaca farm

*The Fighting Cocks (4 runs).