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mashton
dubkev
There's a woman I see on the quietway in the mornings, along Willow Walk, who rides either fixed or single. Wears a woolly hat, no helmet. Chopped down riser bars not much winder than her hands will allow. She -BARELY- touches her handlebars with her fingertips as she's in full flow, or as soon as she's gotten started again after the crossing at Tower Bridge Road. It drives me up the fucking wall. It's the equivalent of driving with your knees. Her riding style isn't exactly smooth and I wish she'd just hold on to her bars as she's flying past other riders in close proximity. My nerves are frayed when I end up riding alongside her and I usually wait a minute or so until she's gone before I go back to my regular pace.