I drove away from my favourite Dales campsite this afternoon, and nearly caused an accident. I waited at the main road, near Grassington, while three caravans went by, right to left. When they slowed to a crawl, I looked right and left, saw nothing moving and moved out. I missed a car coming from the left… by inches. He didn’t brake. I didn’t brake. There were no skidmarks on the road. It was just luck that there wasn’t a collision… and it would have been all my fault. It was undramatic too. He didn’t hoot or stop; he just carried on as if nothing had happened.
By the time I reached Ilkley I didn’t feel like driving any further. So I parked up in the big car park in the middle of town, and I won’t be going anywhere till tomorrow morning. Just having a beer in Wetherspoons, to calm me down a bit. And count my blessings. An email just dropped in: I’m a grandad again. Another boy. That’s enough excitement for one day…
The canal basin at Sowerby Bridge...
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