Author: Buck

I was resigned to selling my bikes after the police bust. I can’t say I was happy about it, but I was getting my head around cycling and maybe triathlon again.

The copper said there was a chance I could do an awareness course, but Mr Google said I couldn’t. I was expecting big points. Even at the bare minimum of 3, I was still thinking I should probably sell my bikes to be on the safe side.

I got my letter off the coppers today.

Well, it was all going so well.

It was a relatively warm and dry day, the first for a few weeks. Good riding weather in other words. So I opened it up a bit. I still haven’t got my plod detector working. Can you see where this going?

Busted.

How often do you get presented with a serious problem and have the means to quickly and simply fix it?

Never.

It just doesn’t happen in my experience. It’s always a process. A series of token gestures. Often as not a well intentioned disaster.

I watched a clip via Twitter last night and they mentioned Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), which reminded me of my army days. I got sent to the shrink due to issues and a panel of them interrogated me. They sent me back to my regiment with a letter for my army doctor. The doctor’s was closed so I had it overnight. Curiosity got the better of me and I steamed it open.

It was 27 years ago but I know it involved Personality Disorder, I think it was Borderline.

Nearly 30 years I’ve dismissed it. Borderline makes it sound like barely a consideration. It turns out that’s just the medical term for an exact condition.

It’s been eventful.

I said last time that my black bike had blown over.

A horrifying picture to be sent when you are 5 hours away.