I hate it when...
When I'm all leathered up, after wriggling into one piece, with back protector, and gloves, lid, boots... And then I realise my T shirt has wriggled up, and the back protector is going to wear a hole in my back.
When that dopey cager doesn't look - at all!
When you're all leather up, swinging your leg across the bike, and the phone rings, and you look at it with a sinking feeling, knowing you really have to answer it...
When I start cramping - this happened on the weekend, 2 hours of straights and wet corners, finally dry corners, and then, boom, cramp city. Sitting on the side of the road watching bikes roar past, knowing that the 2 hours home will be interspersed with several cramp breaks like this.
When I warm the bike up for a few minutes, and then realise I have 20 minutes of riding carefully anyhow because the tires are still cold...
When I'm sitting in the cage, wearing a suit, and bikes filter past.
It’s diametrically opposed to the sanitised existence of the Lemmings around me in the Dilbert Cartoon hell I live in; it’s life at full volume, perfect colour with high resolution and 10,000 watts of amplification.
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