A couple of weeks ago I returned from a ride with a friend in tow. Not the sort of friend who fist-bumps you afterwards and says 'great day, seeya next weekend'. Or even the sort of friend that might say, 'good to see you still have the FTP of an asthmatic ant, Shrubsall', with a conspiratorial wink. No, this was the sort of friend that might suck your blood while giving you Lyme disease. A tick, in other words and, actually, no friend at all.
My proud brandishing of the pin-head sized parasite was met with limited sympathy, or indeed admiration, from family members. Instead they recoiled in disgust and went off, I presume, to find the nearest plague mask. I went off to find the nearest pair of tweezers to get rid of the thing.
