Bath Chronicle

My terror as I wrestled with The Beast in dark tunnel

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My new electric bicycle is a beast. Top of the range Bosch motor and I swear the lock weighs more than my old bike.

It has about 12 gears and power levels and I was so engrossed with where I was in this plethora of speeds and resistance­s as illustrate­d by the mini-computer on the handlebars that I jumped a red light and got abused roundly by a man in a white van.

What is more, he knew my name and matched it with a list of expletives not suitable for publicatio­n.

To tell you the truth, the bike is about two inches too high for me, especially as my arthritic knees are playing up. Getting on and off is a nightmare. Someone suggested I carry a little mounting block on string.

My friend went on an epic ride last week that included taking her bike on the train.

Due to said knees I didn’t fancy humping The Beast in and out of guard’s vans so I said I’d ride out to meet her as she sailed back into town, somewhere near the Two Tunnels.

Arriving at the tunnel portal there was no sign of my pal so despite not being fully in control of my steed I decided to go through. Big mistake!

There was reduced lighting operating that day in the longer tunnel.

Despite the near pitch darkness there were people in black clothes walking two and even three abreast.

There were cyclists haring towards me with no lights, boy racers trying to overtake me, dogs appearing out of nowhere and even a guy towing his child on the end of a long and invisible rope!

Naturally, I developed a chronic wobble but due to aforementi­oned dodgy joints I couldn’t actually stop and get off, it being such a palaver to get my leg over as it were without dangerousl­y and possibly fatally blocking the freeway.

So, I ploughed on. And on. And on. That tunnel seems endless when you are in abject terror.

I tried slowing down but that made me even wobblier. Would I hit the side or ride straight into someone coming the other way?

The strange electronic cello music that marks the halfway point didn’t help. What, only halfway? Cripes! Suddenly the answer to what my fate might be became apparent. Someone with the brightest bike light in Christendo­m was heading straight for me.

I executed what could only be described as a slalom while the other rider stopped dead.

What’s more they knew my name, but this time it was my turn with the expletives. It was my pal! ‘Can’t stop’ I cried ‘See you at the other end!’

I finally emerged into the blinding sunshine and steeled myself to do the whole ghastly business over again.

Suffice to say that on the way back through I encountere­d no wayward walkers, no dogs, no invisible toddler-towing ropes or for that matter any other cyclists.

I upped the gears, slipped smoothly up the grades until I reached Full Boost on the computer screen and shot out of the portal at about 35mph. BRILLIANT!!

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