from under

I didn't see any salt on the way in except for a tiny pile at Stedfastgate, though the paths were mostly frost rather than ice. On the way home I stuck to the roads, but hadn't counted on the corner of Hillside Crescent and Hillside St being a sheet of black ice. I fortunately cut off my utterance at "ooofffffff" as the man walking his bike gingerly across the road who checked I was undamaged had a smallish child with him. I somehow took out both my bottle cages with my right knee and landed mostky on my left wrist again, though nowhere near as sharply as on the Grassmarket oil in June, and have no apparent lasting effects.