I went for a lung bustin’ training ride on the ‘cross bike yesterday, a mixture of on and off-road (but mainly on road) and was enjoying myself racing cars up the A56. 3 lanes of dangerous fun! Anyway, I approached the right turn just opposite Mike Cookson’s shop to take me towards the Birtle bridleway. The filter light was just going to amber when I crossed the line, so I was cutting it fine. I was bombing along though so it should have been ok. I wasn’t running a red light or anything.

Coming the other way was a pillock in a van who was obviously just timing his “run” for the lights just right so that he could boot his stupid French piece of shit vehicle without slowing down from 40mph, whilst in third gear. I recall thinking, “bloody hell that’s going a bit fast, I’ll have to get across this junction sharpish”. I got across ok, and looked at the guy and mouthed the word “tosser” at him. Clearly he was narked and whilst giving me daggers his concentration lapsed for a split second…..

…meanwhile an equally stupid motorist, who was behind me, decided she could also get through this junction and turn right before the oncoming traffic hit her. She’s presumably not seen Mr.Cockhead in his 4-wheeled fridge driving in the opposite direction and has proceeded to turned right.

Mr Cockhead at that precise moment is looking to his left at me as I’ve just called him a rude name. No doubt he’s telling me he’s going to kill me with a rolled up newspaper and a chippy fork or something.

BANG. They both crash into each other in the middle of the junction. Nobody appears to be hurt (well there’s no limbs hanging off anyway) and the 2 motorists are shouting at each other. I rode off, all innocent, like.

It was a fairly uneventul ride after that really. Rode really fast, stood up and sprinted loads, felt pretty good, needed lights for the first time in ages.