It reminded me that London's Critical Mass would be today. I've missed the last few, but didn't want to miss this one.
It was good. A long pause on the bridge - personally, I'd have blocked both directions - then around Central London.
I'm pissed off that most of the ones I've been to have involved riding to the site of a fatality. There are 'only' one or two cyclists killed in London a month, but that's too many of course.
Did I mention the incident in late December? Near the Dog's Home Battersea, I look behind me, loads of room, and do the best 'I'm turning right' signal of my life. It's getting dark, but the street lighting is good, I'm lit up, wearing piles of reflective clothing (and my white calves working away). Sodding van driver behind doesn't see me until he's really close, narrowly misses me, and has the nerve to toot his horn. If he'd been alone, they'd have been.. trouble.
If I was killed, I'd be seriously pissed off... and if I believed in ghosts, there'd be some serious haunting of the people responsible inbetween trying to watch JoJo grow up.
(Oh, old-time LBGers may be interested to know someone who I'm embarrassed to say I've forgotten his proper name and can only remember Marcus's nickname for him (Stavros) was there on his wheelchair!)