Events related herein are a few weeks out of date, but there have been other more pressing matters to blog about.

I left work early to drive down to Plymouth to see my parents, friends and to have a guitar lesson. Good stuff.
On the M4 I was bombing along in the fast lane in my normal fashion. My mind was drifting to what CD I wanted to put on next when


I tried to swerve to avoid it, but it was a bit of a half hearted effort. Partly because I was slow to see it, but mostly because I didn’t have time to check my mirror for anyone in the middle lane.


I looked in my rear view mirror in time to see a section of exhaust pipe lazily coming to rest safely on the central reservation.

Maybe it’s ok?

A nasty noise set in making it quite obvious that things were not ok. I slowed and indicated to move in. Then ‘sod that’ full-on hazard warning lights, get to the breakdown lane as quickly as possible, as the noise worsened.
Luckily I managed to navigate across 3 lanes of busy and fast moving traffic quickly and without incident. All this happened within 30 seconds I’d guess.
I come to a halt and quickly enter Business Like Survival Mode (TM). I get out and examine the situation. I’m greeted by a shredded tire and so go to the boot to get the spare. Spare out, nut undo-ing device weilded but to no avail. After about five minutes of literally jumping up and down on the nut undo-ing device I admit defeat and call the AA.
The shakes from the supprise of the whole event have subsided by now so I’m quite rational on the phone. Also I’m near one of those orange telephone things which makes it easy for the call centre worker to locate me. They’ll be with me within 45 minutes, so all I’ve got to do is freeze my arse off standing around waiting for them.
While I was standing there, watching the undoubtedly smug traffic passing my thoughts wandered. There was a brief moment, going over the events of the previous weeks and contempating the inevitable expense of my ruined alloy, when I had a strong urge to shout my frustrations to the wind. Whether this release of pressure would have been good we’ll never know, as the image of a guy standing by the roadside bellowing unintelligably made me laugh out loud. A release of sorts I suppose.

Shortly before the AA arrived a deathly silence took the motorway. No traffic at all on my side of the road. It took me a while to realise it’s strangeness. Then a police car, doing a rolling road block came along. They pulled up and asked what had happened. I explained, they investigated, then they left.
It all seemed a little odd.

Perhaps if I hadn’t called the AA they would have helped me change my wheel?