H.E.A.T.

Highly Explosive And Temperamental


Nah; that's not a description of me but of a good 30-dozen or so car drivers around the roadworks section of the upper reaches of the A33 entering (and tonight, exiting) Reading. What a bunch of selfish unforgiving lunatics we allow to control cars these days!

I didn't quite hear what one small truck driver shouted at me and a handful of other motorists caught out by a traffic jammed set of lights on the M4/A33 interchange (albeit we were now 6, not 3 lanes deep) because a. I had my plugs in, and b. I still have a deafened right ear. Suffice, it was not pleasant and to be honest it was entirely uncalled for. Most of the 4+ wheeled traffic had been at a standstill for a fair time anyway, and despite the few of us "blocking" his egress into the M4E he certainly didn't need to swerve much for a fat bloke, either.

There was also a Masda driver who saw me (eyeball contact) in his near-side mirror filtering intelligently through the throng and deliberately pulled the gap on his neighbouring transit flatbed stopping me for quite some while - always watching me, so he knew I was there, the twat. Selfish.

Last night I took the M3 route home in a vain attempt for a record run but congection was deep from Reading, through B'Stoke, and all the way down the M3 to the M27. Dickhead in one of those short-penis BMW hatch thingamajigs undertook me in the 2-lane stretch by squeezing between me, the car in front and the car in the inside lane. Complete chod. I'd not like to describe it as road rage; more delightful deceipt, but I quickly undertook him and held him behind me for some miles just to pee him off. Mind you, on seeing the flashing red beacons of the Rozzers checking out some wayward driver on the hard-shoulder for drugs I did have the courtesy to flash the hazards and slow him down before (we both) either of us got in trouble.

Commute Appreciation Day

Today was spent jollying on the A32 route again. It's nice to be back on familiar territory, too. I don't have the A31 stretch anymore, which is a bonus, but this new A339 twisty section Alton to B'Stoke to negotiate. I took the route earlier in the year to releive some bordom on the Frimley commute but this is the first week taking it on in anger. It's a lovely piece of countryside, really - when I get time to look up from the unfamiliar fast-passing tarmac, anyway.

Joy of joys is the end of the free road entering B'Stoke: a tailback of some 150+ cars down to the first roundabout and a rippled set of chevroned lines to hop along filtering down thier off-side. It really makes me appreciate being on the bike - more, too when cutting through the busy, but easy-flowing overall traffic in the town itself. The bypass works really well.

The A33 on the other hand is difficult to get on to via the dual carriage way ringroad and then rewards by breaking into a single file, 50mph dawdle. The pain here are the elderly and those frail of mind enough to be driving a Micra. This keeps progress down to 40mph in places and passing is strictly for the streaky piss baby bikers rather than fat-boy Pans.

Easy Tiger

But this is the point; one slow section after another keying into a gentile bimble from front door to work's carpark; it's going to take at least 1.5hrs at a thrash whichever route is chosen at rush-day so I have learned to be happy with a 2-hr window for the distance and bimble. Of course, the novelty is wearing off...and I am regaining my former confidence and enjoying Shadowfax's enormous reserves of 3rd gear winding up the figures to near obscene levels of melancholic joy.

I have to admit I'm all ridden out tonight. The last few days have seen temperatures in the afternoon cycle consitently over 31-degrees and it's a long ride without a water stop.

Still, despite feeling it was a long way as I drifted into Droxford and willing away the last dozen miles I was still marvelling at riding a motorcycle as I pulled up to the home gate. There are likley a few other road users also marvelling at my riding tonight, too. I don't doubt.

Knackered.

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