I left the office a little later than usual last night, but not late enough to think about chasing the 1750 for a while. If I was going to see them, it would be a matter of finding a pleasant spot to stop - one with long sight lines - and waiting for them to come along.
As it was, serendipity almost took care of that for me. The Gods of Retention of High Pressure Air in Rubber Enclosures decided to throw a shard of glass my way, and I spent 10 minutes on the side of the road getting filthy (again). I am looking forward to my new tyres arriving in the mail - the old ones are worn so thin that a nasty look could poke a hole in them.
I deliberately setup the bike so that the video camera was pointing up the road. Until I downloaded the video at home, I had no idea whether it was in any position to film anything worthwhile. It turned out to be perfectly aligned - albeit upside down.
A few dozen cyclists passed me as I sat there changing out the tube, and 80% of them slowed down and asked if I was ok, needed a hand and had everything I needed to complete the job. Cycling is that sort of fraternity. I always do the same to other cyclists, unless I can see that they have almost completed the job and clearly have no need for any assistance.
As it was, I still pushed off before the 1750 came through. They didn't overtake me, which was a good thing as I was in no shape to chase them. Thanks to my stupid pump, I could only stick 50psi in the back tyre. At pressures that low, the bike wobbles much more than usual, and I worry that if I corner too hard, the tyre will peel off the rim. It's like riding on a bowl of jelly. So I was happy to take it easy and not be presented with any temptations to put the hammer down and flog the legs into a lathered mess.