Terrifying

Well this Sabbath Sunday saw more Project: Cathedral procrastination I’m afraid, but with good reason. A parent of my partner had planned to cycle the 20 odd miles over to our house with a friend of his to take advantage of the good view that the wall in front of my house offers of Lincoln’s Grand Prix cycle race.

The rapt audience (including one hang-over):

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Having never seen such a spectacle myself – except only fleetingly and over a few hundred heads & shoulders last year when I obliviously got caught somewhere in uphill Lincoln between the race course and where I had intended to go – I decided it might be worth a look.

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And a spectacle it was, especially in the early laps where the peloton were large & tightly bunched. The noise and they swooshed past was really quite something! However, I soon tired of taking blurry pictures of cyclists against a streaked set of cottages, and decided to wander further up our road to where it bends, hoping for a little more drama. Noticing an approachable looking official in the middle of the road (whom I now know as Jordan, a cycling enthusiast and thoroughly pleasant chap), I asked if I could stand behind him. He consented:

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And I was promptly nearly flattened:

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And then almost run over again:

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I did manage to avoid getting run over by this cyclist however:

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Though I did envy his helmet.

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