Karen writes: Good driver, bad driver, lucky driver
I went home on Friday after work and fitted in a short bikeride to clevedon and back, about 45km. It was alarmingly hot, the tar was making popping noises when I rode over it. I puffed in the still air and wondered if I should have re-applied sunscreen even though the heat of the day was technically over. I'm ready to ride Taupo I kept telling myself, goodness, I couldn't possibly be worse than I was those first few times we rode round the lake...but then I wouldn't want to be, that was 9-10 hours of TORTURE. As I scooted back along the road towards the coast, there is a narrow tree-lined stretch. I was racing for home at this stage, enjoying the shade, a blue car came up behind me and that was ok, they weren't trying anything silly, they just sat there far enough back for me to feel secure, waiting for a clear stretch that was safe to overtake in. Good driver. Next thing there was the roaring of a motor, lots of horn tooting and yelling, I didn't look back, I ...