my camo passenger
i was out training in the middle of nowhere again the other day, clipping along at a pretty good tempo with my tunes in listening to a good tune, and i saw a road up ahead that i hadnt been down before so i suddenly decided to bang a left in and go be nosey and see what was down there. well i was halfway through banging in my left turn when i felt this rubbing all over my back wheel and i completely cacked myself as i thought it was a car about to send me into a cartwheel worthy of the floor routine in gymnastics when the rubbing suddenly stopped. after my heart rate had come down from 200 i looked behind me to find i had a passenger. he was about 35-40 years old, dressed in all the normal cycling gear on a half decent bike, and a cammoflauge cycling top. wicked. it was him that had run up all over my back wheel when i bombed round the corner, i didnt even realise he was there. i looked at him for a second then said “he mate, how you doing, you alright you gave me a hell of a fright” and as soon as i started talking his head dropped low and he started fiddling round with his computer. “hey mate, you ok?” still nothing. “hey bro, whats your name?” still nothing. at this point he was slinking that low he just about had his chin on the stem. “hey mate, i can see you. your not that hard to spot even with your camo top on, whats your name, where you heading to?” still nothing. not even a flicker of acknowledgement. not a wave, or a half nod, or anything. nothing, just a complete blank. ok buggar it i thought, hes obviously just not going to talk to me today so screw it ill just carry on.
i cruised in and out of the lanes for another hour or so, then looked around and my mate was still there. still not talking, and still trying not to look at me when i tried to introduce myself again. i carried on for another half hour and the skies decided to open up and try to drench me, so with perfect timing i was just entering the town of Banchory and was starting to get a bit thirsty so stopped at a petrol station and filled up my bottles and grabbed a coke. my new non speaking mate was sitting at the opposite end of the forecourt when i came out, so i thought buggar it, ill go see what this cat is up too. and low and behold when i started walking towards him, he upped sticks and jumped on his bike and took off. honestly if we were in a cartoon there would have been a puff of smoke and a richocet bullet sound. this guy was off.
righto i thought, well thats that, maybe he just wasnt in the mood to talk or anything, im not sure, i dont think he was going to tell me in-depth either.
with my bottles filled i started out the 25 miles home, tunes up, rain had stopped and was in quite a good mood, when about 4 miles down the road my mate was back. the sneaky buggar must have been hiding in the trees or something with his camo gear and snuck out when i wasnt looking. haha i couldnt believe it. i actually cracked up laughing right out loud. i mean ive done a bit of sitting on in my time, my best memory was when i was doing a club 16km tt when i was 15. i didnt understand the senior guys talking to me about this “pacing” nonsense, i just went out as hard as i could. hell i didnt know any better, and safe to say i blew before the turn. i was caught by one of the seniors just on the turn, and thought to myself, well, theres and easier way to get home! and on i jumped. sat on him the whole way back in, and even managed to put 4 lengths into him when i came off his wheel and sprinted for the line in my 53×17 (yeah looking back on it, definately not one of my crowning moments) still, at least i talked to the guy before he let go a string of profanity at me haha. yeah my camo mate. weird weird day.
