There was carnage on the Ebury Way last week.

I was cycling to a job in Bushey and and had just crossed over the bridge over the River Colne when I saw a scene of devastation in front of me.

Lying moaning on the track was a young boy of about 11, with his bike lying mangled in a patch of stinging netttles.

His two friends were standing over him, trying to look serious and concerned but actually giggling.

"Come on mate. Get up," one was saying to the lad on the floor.

Like a good citizen, I stopped to offer my assistance. Apart from a small graze on his knee, the boy was remarkably okay.

It seemed that the pain - and obvious embarrassment - came from his tangle with the stinging nettles, due to him losing control at speed coming down the bridge.

So after talking to him and calming him down, I continued on my way to Bushey, supressing a giggle as I went.