I was cycling in Romania...
...and was having a few interesting days crossing the Carpathian Mountains on totally deserted dirt tracks (if you've been watching Long Way Round recently, you'll understand the sort of roads we're talking about here). A great time, although difficult cycling because of the state of the roads.

I'd climbed over a pass at about 1200 metres and started slowly to pick my way down the boulderfield that passed for a road on the other side. Because I was having to trickle down this road it was really hard work, squeezing the brakes like mad the whole way. The road was like one of those in RoadRunner cartoons - hacked into the side of a mountain with a sheer wall rising on one side and a sheer drop on the other side.

After a few minutes, just when my fingers were starting to scream from gripping the brakes so much, I rounded a corner and there, to my delight, found that the road had recently been surfaced with lovely smooth fresh black tarmac. Fantastic! I let go of the brakes and started to fly down the road, whipping freely round the corners and enjoying the amazing views.

This moment of delight lasted right up until I rounded another corner and discovered with a trill of happy laughter that SOME NUTTER HAD DECIDED TO GO UP A MOUNTAIN IN THE MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE AND TARMAC A COMPLETELY RANDOM TWO-HUNDRED-METRE STRETCH OF TIGER-ARSEING ROAD FOR NO APPARENT REASON!! The tarmac ended just like that, and I found myself back on dirt track, except rather than travelling at the 8-10 kph that is suitable for such rough roads, I was now travelling at about 45 kph. My front wheel hit a pothole the size of the Grand Canyon and I lost all control of the bike, bouncing from one side of the road to the other, and all the time with this sheer drop on one side. I had to brake by throwing myself off, and ended up if a bloody heap right on the edge of a dizzying 200m drop. What larks.
( Olembe Refuses to write in this space, Tue 30 Nov 2004, 10:03, Reply)