According to myth and legend, there is a cycle bridge over the River Avon. We couldn't find it. The good people of Bristol City Council clearly like to keep it a secret. Andy thought he'd found a way get over, so we drove over the road bridge to meet him in Avonmouth, taking ages due to roadblocks, etc. Then he called us:
"Erm, sorry guys, they've actually chained and padlocked it shut. You'll have to come back and get me."
"Stay where you are."
Which he didn't do. Because as we struggled back over the Avon, the call came through.
"Made it! Although I'm now stuck in downtown Avonmouth. On my own. On a racing bike. Erm, the natives are circling. Help."
So, employing intrepid swearing, we got back over the river to find him again. He'd handed over to the next team so the relay was unbroken. However, he was now being stalked by the locals. It was like a military extraction - Black Hawk Down without the helicopters.
And this was the wreckage we retrieved.
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