Jump

A nearby stretch of the canal, just a hundred yards or so from my former workplace. It was around seven years ago that a co-worker of mine from Zimbabwe, named Alex, had his first motorcycle ride in this very spot. And what a ride.

Our head chef at the time rode his motorbike into work every day, and parked it on the towpath on the left, just out of shot. It was his pride and joy, and he delighted in showing it off to folks, including Alex.

Having never ridden before, Alex was keen to give it a try, and one hot summer's day not unlike today, plucked up the courage to ask the head chef's permission. With the necessary consent given, Alex climbed onto the bike, fired up the engine, and began chugging at walking pace up the towpath.

He was having an absolute whale of a time until the point when he came to turn round and bring the bike back down the path. To begin with, he veered into a wide arc towards the water's edge, as if to execute a three-point turn. However, rather than setting the bike into reverse to complete this manoeuvre, he accidentally opened up the throttle, revved the engine up to max, and then shot out over the canal like a cannonball.

I suppose that moment would have made an award-winning photograph, had anyone been there with a camera in their hands. The bike suspended in mid-air, soaring gracefully over the water. Alex perched atop it, clinging onto the handlebars like an African Steve McQueen (although perhaps not displaying McQueen's poker-faced composure at that exact point in time). Everyone on the towpath frozen, inert, asking...can he make it?

It would have been something quite wonderful had he touched down on the far bank unscathed. But sadly, he made it about halfway across before plunging in with an almighty splash, then surfacing a few seconds later with an extreme look of misery on his face, in spite of the standing ovation he was receiving from all the punters in the vicinity.

Both Alex and the bike were successfully fished out of the cut, neither of them especially the worse for wear, although a swift change of clothes was very much in order for the former, and a bit of care and attention was required to nurse the latter back into condition. Our head chef even forgave Alex for the entire escapade, more or less, after several weeks of grovelling.

This quiet spot may never witness the likes of Alex's Wild Ride again. But nevertheless, it's enouigh to put a smile on my face whenever I pass.