One spring morning riding to meet up with the club, I’m wearing a brightly coloured club jersey and gillet teamed with black shorts, black arm warmers, black leg warmers and black full fingered gloves. Just as a car is passing the passenger shouts “****”. I’m one of those people who’s natural colour is blue and needs a few weeks of sun just to turn white.
Standing by the side of road with a few club members waiting for someone to fix a puncture. Car goes past and the driver shouts “get a proper hobby”, which I still find funny.