Q. What happens when you cross a cyclist and a fisherman?
A. A broken bike and a battered body (alas, it wasn't the fish that was battered).

On a sunny afternoon, Haggis (my bike) decided that he wanted to go for a ride out with his other friends that were amassing cobwebs in the garage.
After a swift pump of the tyres, 4 riders slipped in to various lycra garments, and were on their way along the canal path, basking in the warmth of a spring day.
Not too long in to the ride however, their path was impinged by numerous fishermen, umbrellas and rods. Such a nice and friendly bunch, all moving their tackle out of the way at the gentle ring of the bicycle bell. But there is always one, isn't there? One miserable fisherman, one less than helpful soul, who sees fit to not move, until the very last minute, and in doing so stumbled as I wobbled my course along the path avoiding all I could. SPLAT goes Helen, splat goes the fisherman, and ouch goes Haggis. One gear cog and wonky wheel later, as well as a very bruised bottom and swollen wrist, and the rest of the ride was a little more challenging, being limited to middle gears only for the next 12 miles! Still it meant that the kids could keep up with me quite happily, and I had to put in lots more effort getting up the inclines, and peddaling through the mud.
There is something particularly lovely about whizzing along in the sunshine, catching the air in your lungs, and knowing that with every push on the pedals, your wheels are going just that little bit faster, the calories are burning off little by little, and by the end of your ride, you know you'll have earned a well deservered soak in the bath with a good book.