I was 14 miles from home, tootling along on my hard tail on the road (you won't catch me on a road bike on the ice), slow but steady after a big week already, and then... the sun went in.
It wasn't exactly balmy anyway so I didnt' think it would make any difference, but it was like something dished by Harry Potter's Death Eaters. The life dissipated from my feet, then my calves, knees, quads, then my core. My fingers started hurting in the cold, my lips cracked and chapped. And what's worse, I slowed down even more. I couldn't generate my own heat, by body just stopped working.
I had eaten the bars I'd taken, I couldn't drink because I had mittens on and didn't want to stop to get my bottle out and risk cooling even more. I just plodded forward, gradually seeing the miles behind me.
It was eerily empty. I arrived back in Bristol at rush hour, only there were no cars at all. On the A370 from Weston Super Mare, normally a road to be avoided at all costs on 2 wheels, I swung down the middle of the road to avoid the icey edges, without any fear of being cut up. Bliss!
Eventually I struggled up the steep sides of The Avon Gorge and collapsed into my flat where luckily my housemate had the fire on full and I was fed tea and handed blankets to thaw.
So, don't let the sun go down on you... but otherwise, make the most of the car-free world!