I'd just been for tea at Arellcat Towers and was trundling my way home via IKEA to see about a rug for my dining room. I would normally call the Old Pentland Road 'going the pretty way'. This evening the Old Pentland Road was the insensible way, as I strained to see where I was going on account of not having a powerful front light*. That meant I clattered badly over a load of potholes on the first bend and I was shaken out of the saddle. I carried on regardless.
Only when I got to the A701 junction did it occur to me to check my back light, because on the way into town this morning I'd clattered badly over some potholes just past Liberton and my light was shaken so much I found it shining down at the road. This time my light wasn't shining at the road, it was missing entirely.
I like my back light. I went back for it, hoping, against all likelihood, that it hadn't been driven over by so many cars like my last phone was. I found the potholes alright, but there was no sign of a light, switched on or not, smashed or not. Nothing. I traipsed back and forth, looked in all the verges and all over the road and eventually admitted defeat. Started walking the bike back towards IKEA and shining my still not very good bike light as a torch. Nothing. I gave up.
Whatever I was going to spend on a new rug was now going to be spent on a new back light, and I was going home. I got as far as the A701 junction again and was held at a red light. At the same moment, a pedestrian who'd been walking in the same direction called over to me. "Hey, did you lose a rear light back there?"
Good heavens.
"I certainly did!"
"Here you go. I saw it fall off by the Secret Herb Garden. I'm a cyclist too, I thought you might miss it."
What a star. And barring a neat little scrape, my light is none the worse for wear, too!
* It's a cheap copy of the Moon Comet. Put it this way, the twin 60 lux Cyos on the torpedo aren't losing any sleep over the competition.
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