F*ck, f***********ck screamed Brian, hurling his bike into the dust, the naked spindle of his SPD staring back up at him where the pedal body should’ve been. Instinctively I began to run down the steep, rooty trail, sensing that this was a pivotal moment in our attempt with morale and motivation hanging in the balance. The pedal part was easy to locate and not for the first time I thanked my running fitness as I jogged back up to my beleaguered friend. The mood lightened fleetingly until we realised that hand tightening was insufficient and we’d no sensible option but…
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