Cleatless
Circumstances beyond my control keep me out of the saddle, out of the pedals and out of circulation.
Having been out of the country at no. 1 son's wedding, I celebrated the event by following a murky pathway to join the dance, only to plunge into the darkness and break an ankle. No dancing. For those with a morbid interest in such things, the fracture was the common or garden lateral malleolus.
On my return (grateful thanks to the disabled services at Edinburgh and Gatwick airports) and having the fracture diagnosed and booted at our friendly Epsom District Hospital, my second thought was of course to update the C&M attendance record. But what happened on 8 July? A ghost ride, it seems. Who were the spectres to take to the road? Who can put flesh on the bones? Or was this really a ride of Medusa?
Please forgive the lame jokes. I'm not quite myself.
Jeff
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