Rode last year as part of a team. Finished my last lap about 11Am ish on the Sunday, so proceeded to drink lots beer and heckle everyone riding by ( was only about 300 yards past the start line so had a prime spot) after 2 hours I was quite pished to say the least.
Our team mate Jon was doing the final lap, so me and other members of the team thought we’d moon him to give him some ‘ecouragement’. However….
as Jon rode by I forgot to move out of the way, Jon went to steer pasrt me, I then thought ‘**** , lets move!’ Right into his path…
A 9 stone whippet going at 15 mph hits a 15 stone drunk ****. Laws of physics take over, then gravity…
Jon is lying on the floor in serious pain with a bust collar bone. The other members of the team get my bike out, stick Jons number plate and I cycle pissed for the last 8 miles of the lap. all I can remember thinking is get the first half done before the beer really kicks in. bit of wishful thinking as my higher order functions had already shut down..
Only fell off twice though.
Will take this shame to the grave, sorry Jon! Remember kids, bikes and drink don’t mix.