The Badger Story

That's me, back in 1970, with my first vehicle: a toddle truck. It was, along with my rocking horse, my favourite toy. It has nothing to do with this post, but I thought you might enjoy it.

I also thought you might enjoy the Badger Story.

This was the only somewhat serious accident I've had so far on the bike. A couple of years ago I was riding Rocinante back from Wolverhampton and was only a couple of miles away from home. It was dusk, and I was pootling along a country lane at top speed: 30mph. And suddenly a badger ran right out in front of the bike.

Badgers are a bit like little black and white tanks: they're hefty, solid, a bit bigger than you remembered, and have an impressively low centre of gravity. And scooter wheels are small. So Rocinante stopped dead in her tracks while I, the mug on the back, got catapulted forward down the road like Wile E Coyote.

I bounced around a bit before coming to rest some distance further on. For a short while I lay on the road, dazed, looking up into space. Then I sat up and took stock.

My arm looked funny. I'd obviously dislocated my shoulder. I gritted my teeth, pushed hard, said a few words vicars aren't even supposed to know let alone say, and it popped back into place. My leg was badly scraped up, and my left arm was still painful, but I was able to get off the road and phone for some help.

It turned out I'd also fractured my shoulder, so I ended up in plasters, bandages, limping, and wearing a sling for six weeks. I couldn't use the arm properly for most of the last two years until after a recent operation.

And here's the question everyone - and I really do mean everyone, every single person I met - asked when they saw me and heard the story: "Is the badger ok?"

Coming back from my pilgrimage, the one thing I'm now hearing from everyone is: "Poor Rocinante ..."

And you know what? Maybe I should be upset, maybe I should be thinking, "Never mind them, what about me?" But I'm not. I'm with you all. I worried about the badger too, and I miss my poor bike.

It's funny, isn't it, this attachment to the underdogs and the little things?

Anyway, I'm going down to Southampton (in a car - Sally's driving while I periodically fall asleep). But in a few days time ... new wheels and the next pilgrimage adventure. Watch this space for more ...

///leap.shoelaces.deny