loong dark tunnel

As promised when he wanted to go out on the bike in the morning, the boy was taken out for a trundle in the evening. I had been wondering if I'd be back home in time to be able to take him out and up and round the hill for the BCC run with Joe and Insto but he was still eating his tea at six, so we only saw them going the other way through Porty. Only one unnecessarily twattish close pass from the selfish cockwipe in the wee yellow thing (top left), a mere single instance of almost being reversed into by a bloke who pulled out without looking (red car, top right), only one other-cyclist threat from the wee tube on the BMX who was deliberately weaving all over the path trying to block the woman in front of me along the shared used path beside Seafield Road and only one incomprehensible shout from a flock of neds, shortly after the flock of birds near the Innocent where it passes through Bingham. At some point I noticed that I'd popped a spoke and developed a rather wobbly rear wheel, but it got us home despite having been somewhat severely dented on one side of the rim.