The woman in question had enough time to ring her bell on three occasions, but evidently not enough time to brake, so we're a bit puzzled as to how the collision managed to occur at all. What dogs was he walking? Greyhounds?
But we're pleased to see that the traditional race in the 'Comments' added to any online article mentioning cyclists - to see who can be first to irrelevantly mention jumping red lights or road tax - was won on this occasion by one Lincs4ever, coming straight in at Comment No 2.
(I'm wondering who'll be the first to say that this incident shows that pedestrians should be licensed, and pay pavement tax, and be forced to have insurance, etc.)
If the chap involved had really wanted to use the cycle path to walk his mutts, he could have followed the example of the man in the picture (top right), snapped last Sunday on the cycle track around Rutland Water.
He was 'walking' his hound on a bike with a ferocious tailwind, meaning he didn't even have to pedal: dog exercising the lazy man's way.
The stormy weather through the week flooded the Ouse in the centre of York.
High water here is nothing unusual. Indeed, the King's Arms by Ouse Bridge is regularly inundated: a floodometer inside shows levels over the years, the highest of modern times being in 2000. (Because its cellars tend to turn into fish tanks during much of winter, it only sells keg beer.)
Nevertheless, the quick rise of water on Friday morning caught a few people on the hop.
Quite literally, when they found the riverside cycle track by Scarborough Bridge was a foot deeper than they anticipated.
Anyone following the cycle route signs from here to Beningborough along NCN65 would be in trouble. It's hard to pedal in flippers.
York being a real cycling city, nobody queries if you aren't wearing a helmet. In this weather, though, they might raise an eyebrow if you're cycling without a snorkel.
York's a pretty flat place - it's said that from the top of the Minster in fine weather, you can see at least eight hen parties - but it does manage to have among its modest slopes a Gravity Hill (right).
In other words, an optical illusion that fools the eye into thinking a downhill is uphill and vice-versa. I blogged about Britain's most famous example, 'Electric Brae' in Ayrshire, last year.
York's own magnetic scarp is on Water End, part of the newly-signed 'orbital cycle route' that circumscribes the city. It's at about 9 o'clock on the orbital, at the junction with Boroughbridge Road in Acomb.
The cyclist in the picture looks like she's going uphill, but in fact she can freewheel: looking away fron the camera the cycle track goes downhill, all the way to the where it joins the road at the top left.
Not that any of York's gradients mattered in yesterday's ferociously high winds. Whatever the local topography, you ended up going north-east, with the gale.