...riding into work today, behind the ultimate ditherer, a woman in a Merc, coming out of a side junction. She goes, she stop, she goes, she stops, then finally she goes....then stops halfway across the road, for no readily apparent reason. I'm at nearly full lock trickling behind her, have to brake, and...doooooown the bike goes, veeeery slowly.
OK, the bike's fine, just laid down onto the crash bars*, so it's just a simple matter of picking the bike up and going. Huunnmmf...HUUNNMMF...maybe I'm at the wrong angle...HHHUUUNNNNMMMMFFFF.
No chance. Eventually the bloke in the car behind got out and gave me a hand. More embarassing than anything (and probably not helped by the fact I'd just filled the tank), but a sobering realisation that this is the only bike I've ever owned that I couldn't pick up myself.
Anyone else found they've dropped the beast and couldn't pick it up?**
* Paid for themselves there, then...
** If anyone has tales of how their ten year old niece can pick theirs up, I'd be grateful if you could keep that to yourselves, just for this morning - my ego's feeling fragile enough as it is...



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