100% Biker 167

100% Biker 167
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So I’m riding home from the flicks the other night (Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters if you were wondering). It’s gone 11 and the roads are almost deserted. As I turn off the main road onto the little B-road that leads into the village where I live, a glance behind reveals a car coming up the main drag fast and, a few seconds later, its lights sweeping across the field to my left tells me that it’s turned onto the same road.

Getting into the 30 limit, I back off and, rounding the corner by the church, stick me indicator on and slow right down ready to turn right into the little lane that leads up to the back of my house. My old bike doesn’t have mirrors and so I’ve already done me ‘life-saver’ and the car whose lights I saw isn’t in sight, so I’m just about to haul the ’bars right and begin me turn when a little voice in me head says “look again”. I do so and frantically stand on the brakes as the car has now come round the corner far in excess of the speed limit and is in the process of over-taking me – even though my right-hand indicator is blinking away steadily, blatantly announcing to the world what I’m about to do. I manage to stop just short of the white line down the middle of the road (thankfully, as I said, I’d slowed right down), just as a black X-reg car tears past barely inches from my front wheel and disappears off through the village, unaware or uncaring of the fact that the driver was a hair’s breadth away from taking a human life.

Make no mistake; at the speed it was travelling there’s no way I would’ve survived being hit, no way at all.

What saved my life that night was the still small voice in my head that I’ve learned, quite often the hard way, not to ignore; that quiet feeling that something’s not right, that you need to take note immediately. It’s something that I’ve heard many folk talk about over the years; most of us who ride a bike will’ve had it call to us at some point and, as I’ve found out very, very painfully, you disregard it at your peril. What it actually is or what causes it I don’t know and there isn’t room here to speculate, but I do know this; if your still small voice talks to you, whether you’re out on your bike or not, listen to it. It might just save your life…