He nudged the tyre as close as he could and then peered down over the handlebars. Small drops of earth trickled down the slope, stones bounding down after and overtaking before springing off into the undergrowth at the side.

Heart pounding now, mouth dry and palms wet. His brain was taking in the ground below, the sharp drop, the narrow path down and the natural obstacles upon it - tree roots and small rocks.

He could do it. Couldn't he?

An earlier attempt to walk down had ended in a trip through a bush, arms flailing and dignity abandoned in the foliage. He was more assured on his trusty steed though. At least that's what he was telling himself now.

It was now or never. If he waited he would change his mind. He wanted to wait for his friends to witness his triumph, or to call the ambulance as he had done for Peter three days ago. Part of him ached for his buddy to be walking again, to be here and see this. Another part thought of delaying until that was possible. A small bit yearned to walk into the hospital ward proclaiming his triumph like a victorious general.

The trip today was meant to be to judge conditions for a group attack, safety in numbers. The reconnaissance had shown that the time was right, the ground dry enough to not be slippery, but with enough give to allow tyres to grip and not slide on the dust. Should he wait? Who would believe him if he succeeded? His tyre tracks at the bottom of the gully would be proof enough, he reasoned.

He edged the bike away from the lip, eyes transfixed by the descent before them and dismounted, turning the bike around and away from the demon. A few feet away he reversed the procedure, pointing into the tops of the trees now. He stood over the machine and prepared. A push off with his left foot and a couple of pedal strokes and it roared towards him, despite his slow speed. The last chance to brake passed and earth dropped from below his front wheel. Weightless for a fraction, his mind raced as adrenaline hammered through his body. He hurtled down, flicking the bike rapidly to keep it pointing along the narrow track. Stones pinged from whizzing tyres, the chain clattered as he bounced, branches slashed and cracked at his body and there seemed no end to the journey. He couldn't recognise anything from his previous walks down the slope, the scenery passed in a blur. It must end soon, he hoped.

Hope came as the ground levelled, he screamed with joy and his body felt ready to explode. He had done it. He looked back to check for tyre marks, to prove his conquest. They were there and would stay there, heading straight for the tree that the bicycle was found embedded in, the equally broken body still holding tight. He'd done it though.

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