October challenge; hidden

This is a sight I don’t normally see.

I’m engaged in a bit of fettling - getting the bike ready for winter. I know - it’s warm and sunny (mostly) and we’ve not even turned the heating on yet. And long may that continue.

I’m fitting some mudguards to stop the worst of the mud and dirt that we often encounter, from leaving a dark stripe down my back. I hate putting mudguards on my bike. Apart from being incredibly fiddly to fit - fit them, adjust them, then remove them to hacksaw off the stays which manufacturers tend to leave as long as possible - and then fit them back again. Apart from that, they are so….. sensible. And I don’t always like being sensible. It’s one of the perks of getting older. Why can’t I run with scissors?

It’s because of my Dad. When I was about 9, I got my first new bike. A Royal Enfield; bright red with white mudguards. Everyone remembers their first new bike. Don't they? It’s like those other ‘first’ things you’re supposed to remember. (My list includes camera and guitar. Yours may include other things. Like snog.)

After a couple of weeks I took the mudguards off my bike; my Dad was not pleased; “But Dad, no one else has mudguards….” The urge to conform. Gets us into trouble every time. Which is odd when you think about it - conform sounds a lot like 'norm'.

This seemingly innocuous rainguard was the source of my first youthful rebellion - long before music and hair length. I put them back on - but once I joined a cycling club and started racing, then mudguards became a thing of the past. You wouldn’t see Sir Bradley Wiggins winning the Tour de France with mudguards on his bike. Apart from the aerodynamic drag, think of the embarrassment.

I whizz up the road to check it’s all OK and then leave the bike in the garage.

When the garage door opens or closes a small overhead courtesy light comes on for just a few minutes. We usually go straight into the house, or straight out of the garage, so never see what’s hidden away in the dark behind the closed door. But this time I go back into the garage to get something and stumble into this other world.

There's just a small beam of light falling onto the right handlebar; wow. Run back and get my camera, open and close the garage door a couple of times and blip’s your uncle.