Cycling accidents, particularly on the road involving other vehicles and where injury or fatality occurs are emotive. Where a rider dies then there's an outpouring of feeling from those who feel themselves to be in the brother hood / sister hood of cycling. A case of there but for the grace of god go I. I can't, won't and don't compare myself and the cycling I do to the professionals where it's not just a different league, but a whole different activity / sport. Maybe I just know too much, firstly about how very different a professional cyclist is to me, how for them it's a job, not a hobby, it's not just an obsession to those who make it their career. It's a passion, an obsession, a gift, a talent, dedication, commitment, motivation and full time bloody hard work. A world apart from my gentle pedaling. Secondly I know how it feels to have your husband die.
Seeing the cycling world react to the death in service of a rider in the Giro d'Italia yesterday has left me feeling uncomfortable. The death of a young man in the peak of fitness is a tragedy, a shame and a sadness. But I wouldn't for one moment intrude on the grieving of those who love him and who will miss him, not just momentarily but for days, weeks and years to come. I wouldn't presume to believe that any empty condolence I can send, or any sympathy I feel will be of any comfort at all to them. It seems to me that feeling sad at a distance is respectful, but putting twitter expressions out on the world wide web is false and designed simply to draw attention to the sender, not meant to be of true support to those who have suffered this devastating loss.
I am sorry he died, and I am sorry his girlfriend is living through this pain, and sorry their child will never know its father. It makes me sad but nothing I can say or do will change a thing.
This incident doesn't make me change my cycling habits. Others are saying stay safe, and they can't bring themselves to go out on their bike. I'm not a rider in that league or that sport. I commute, and don't need a death on the road to remind me that there are hazards and I need to look out for my own safety.
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Monday, 9 May 2011
Tyre aid
So, having had the hybrid bike for 8 - 10 years now, and given the increased amount of use it's getting, maybe, methinks, it's time to treat it (and me) to some new tyres. It's on the original tyres and I can't fail to notice the fact that although there's a trace of tread, they are now pretty much slicks. Sometimes cornering can be a little interesting with a weird sensation that the bike and tyre are attempting to part company. Besides which, my mum bought new tyres, and if she's getting new playthings so am I.
Apparently the days of my youth where you simply went to the Local Bike Shop (back then Bob Addy's cycles, Charter Place, Watford) and bought the only tyres they sold in the size you wanted and slapped them on your bike are gone. Now, not only have the LBSs disappeared, but they have been replaced on the high street with somewhat more specialist dealers who offer choice and words like "performance" have crept into the tyre market. Evans, for example, a lovely place where I can spend hours looking at shiny gadgets and studying different kinds of oil is a bewildering blokey place with too much choice and too little information.
When it comes down to it, I thought I knew what I wanted from a tyre. Tread and robustness were priorities. Research then in the burgeoning online shops such as Wiggle and ChainReactionCycles then demonstrated to me that I needed to be considering other factors. Apparently. Customer reviews were suggesting some tyres were "hard to fit". Not something I ever thought to be a consideration. Surely a tyre the right size and three tyre levers used appropriately was a recipe for a trouble free fitting. Apparently not. Then there were folding tyres, tyres for winter and tyres for summer (again, Ehh?).
Not wishing to embarrass myself by seeking commuter bike old burd advice on a cycling website I naturally deviated to the UK Climbing website where there is a friendly helpful section for eager outdoor types who also like to cycle. The choices are now narrowing down. Schwalbe Marathons may well be purchased. Hope they are easy to fit.
Apparently the days of my youth where you simply went to the Local Bike Shop (back then Bob Addy's cycles, Charter Place, Watford) and bought the only tyres they sold in the size you wanted and slapped them on your bike are gone. Now, not only have the LBSs disappeared, but they have been replaced on the high street with somewhat more specialist dealers who offer choice and words like "performance" have crept into the tyre market. Evans, for example, a lovely place where I can spend hours looking at shiny gadgets and studying different kinds of oil is a bewildering blokey place with too much choice and too little information.
When it comes down to it, I thought I knew what I wanted from a tyre. Tread and robustness were priorities. Research then in the burgeoning online shops such as Wiggle and ChainReactionCycles then demonstrated to me that I needed to be considering other factors. Apparently. Customer reviews were suggesting some tyres were "hard to fit". Not something I ever thought to be a consideration. Surely a tyre the right size and three tyre levers used appropriately was a recipe for a trouble free fitting. Apparently not. Then there were folding tyres, tyres for winter and tyres for summer (again, Ehh?).
Not wishing to embarrass myself by seeking commuter bike old burd advice on a cycling website I naturally deviated to the UK Climbing website where there is a friendly helpful section for eager outdoor types who also like to cycle. The choices are now narrowing down. Schwalbe Marathons may well be purchased. Hope they are easy to fit.
Friday, 6 May 2011
Testing Times
I will never quite understand men, and men on bikes never, for sure. Wednesday's commute in on the bike held some testosterone confusion for me. Let's face it, I am, as billed, an old burd on a bike. I exude this, even from behind. The bike you see, has a mud guard and a back rack. I have a very upright position, and am generally speaking not clothed in lycra. Hair pokes out from underneath a very lack lustre helmet. I look the part, nothing to threaten a healthy young male's status here, no need indeed to prove anything against me.
So then, why overtake me just to slow down and have me slipstream, often free wheeling? I don't do that. I don't race up to someone, overtake and then slow down. Going round a slower moving rider is something I give in fact great consideration to. Firstly, can I do this safely, without putting myself too far into the line of traffic, and yet without going so near to the other cyclist that I could potentially throw them off balance. One of Wednesday's testosterone brigade went so close to me his jacket brushed my hand. Secondly, I look at their pace, my pace, and use my knowledge of the route to know if an over taking maneuver is possibly pointless - i.e. are we about to go up a hill, is there going to be a procession of traffic lights and no point in a rush?
But apparently I am a considerate and careful rider. And a Burd. It wouldn't be such a rant worthy topic if it only happened once in a blue moon, but three times on Wednesday lycra clad boys with drop handled bar bikes went past me and sat in front of me. One of them pretty much in the way as it then slowed my journey down. I can only assume it's the unseasonal sunshine and the testosterone. Poor men. What they suffer.
So then, why overtake me just to slow down and have me slipstream, often free wheeling? I don't do that. I don't race up to someone, overtake and then slow down. Going round a slower moving rider is something I give in fact great consideration to. Firstly, can I do this safely, without putting myself too far into the line of traffic, and yet without going so near to the other cyclist that I could potentially throw them off balance. One of Wednesday's testosterone brigade went so close to me his jacket brushed my hand. Secondly, I look at their pace, my pace, and use my knowledge of the route to know if an over taking maneuver is possibly pointless - i.e. are we about to go up a hill, is there going to be a procession of traffic lights and no point in a rush?
But apparently I am a considerate and careful rider. And a Burd. It wouldn't be such a rant worthy topic if it only happened once in a blue moon, but three times on Wednesday lycra clad boys with drop handled bar bikes went past me and sat in front of me. One of them pretty much in the way as it then slowed my journey down. I can only assume it's the unseasonal sunshine and the testosterone. Poor men. What they suffer.
Thursday, 5 May 2011
Man Down
I had thoroughly intended cycling to work today but a few days of cycling has taken its toll. Monday was the 20 mile MTB ride, Tuesday the ride to the theatre and back, and Wednesday ride to work, then to book club and then home. This morning I looked at the bike in horror as I attempted the ascent of my stairs at home bearing my early morning cup of tea. I picked up the car keys instead, and with feelings of shame and guilt went about my business.
My drive to work this morning took me along the first 5 miles of my cycling commute route, chosen because it's relatively traffic free on the whole and the main hold ups are the traffic lights. Picture my dismay at finding myself queued in traffic at 07:50 this morning in a very lengthy chain of cars disappearing into the visible distance. The queue, however, suddenly began to move and we had achieved a reasonable consistent pace, even if only 20mph much improved on the initial stop start, one car through the lights at a time progress.
As the traffic speed returned to normal I realised what the delay had been for. There at the side of the road was a white transit van, it's male driver making agitated mobile phone conversation, and a 4X4 with a female driver on the pavement talking to and holding steady a cyclist, still in his helmet but in recovery position and covered in a blanket. Another cyclist was stood by, and two bikes, one mangled were on the ground. There was no side road here, just an entrance to a plumbers yard. I made a judgement on the spot of the likely people at fault and the innocent victims. So clear in my head, without any facts at all, was I that I was so angry my eyes were full of tears. Angry that the cyclist had been taken out. Impressed also that he was clearly talking and impressed that to the assistant had not tried to remove his helmet, leaving that kind of thing for the experts. The ambulance hadn't even arrived.
There but for the grace of <insert deity of choice> go I. I cycle that road, straight, wide and without potholes. That could have been me.
My drive to work this morning took me along the first 5 miles of my cycling commute route, chosen because it's relatively traffic free on the whole and the main hold ups are the traffic lights. Picture my dismay at finding myself queued in traffic at 07:50 this morning in a very lengthy chain of cars disappearing into the visible distance. The queue, however, suddenly began to move and we had achieved a reasonable consistent pace, even if only 20mph much improved on the initial stop start, one car through the lights at a time progress.
As the traffic speed returned to normal I realised what the delay had been for. There at the side of the road was a white transit van, it's male driver making agitated mobile phone conversation, and a 4X4 with a female driver on the pavement talking to and holding steady a cyclist, still in his helmet but in recovery position and covered in a blanket. Another cyclist was stood by, and two bikes, one mangled were on the ground. There was no side road here, just an entrance to a plumbers yard. I made a judgement on the spot of the likely people at fault and the innocent victims. So clear in my head, without any facts at all, was I that I was so angry my eyes were full of tears. Angry that the cyclist had been taken out. Impressed also that he was clearly talking and impressed that to the assistant had not tried to remove his helmet, leaving that kind of thing for the experts. The ambulance hadn't even arrived.
There but for the grace of <insert deity of choice> go I. I cycle that road, straight, wide and without potholes. That could have been me.
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
No Parking
Last night I cycled to the Lowry centre to be part of an audience with Andrew Motion, the previous poet laureate. Last time I went to the Lowry the bike parking facilities seemed a little scarce, to say the least. A venue which between three theatres must seat over a thousand seemed to be catered for by just four bike parking devices. This kind of thing:
What I hate about these is that although, after a fashion, they hold your bike upright, just look how far away the frame is from the piece of street furniture. Given that the most secure type of bike lock is the U lock which is of limited length there is no way you can use it to secure the bike to the non moveable object. Last time I visited the Lowry I put the bike sideways on to the V shaped device (it wasn't part of a long stretch of them like the picture) and tethered it with the U lock that way. I go a bit security crazy, and have two cable type locks I use to lock both wheels onto the frame too. They are quick release wheels and it would be most inconvenient to return to the bike and find them gone.
But much to my joy and delight in the middle of a mini roundabout, the Lowry have these brand new devices -
Don't look much, do they, and of course the Lowry ones were shinier and much more curvy and aesthetic. So much better to use. Bike nestles up against the frame and you can attach any lock, anywhere. This, however is not the bees knees of bike parking as I found this morning ...
Just look at these bad boys we've had installed at work. I suspect our model is a step up from these, with cover in a cylinder and bike racks to the left and right. Actually left my bike locked in this today instead of smuggling it into the dingy motorbike store.
Parking just gets better and better.
What I hate about these is that although, after a fashion, they hold your bike upright, just look how far away the frame is from the piece of street furniture. Given that the most secure type of bike lock is the U lock which is of limited length there is no way you can use it to secure the bike to the non moveable object. Last time I visited the Lowry I put the bike sideways on to the V shaped device (it wasn't part of a long stretch of them like the picture) and tethered it with the U lock that way. I go a bit security crazy, and have two cable type locks I use to lock both wheels onto the frame too. They are quick release wheels and it would be most inconvenient to return to the bike and find them gone.
But much to my joy and delight in the middle of a mini roundabout, the Lowry have these brand new devices -
Don't look much, do they, and of course the Lowry ones were shinier and much more curvy and aesthetic. So much better to use. Bike nestles up against the frame and you can attach any lock, anywhere. This, however is not the bees knees of bike parking as I found this morning ...
Parking just gets better and better.
Monday, 2 May 2011
Wonderful feeling
Who will buy this beautiful morning, such a sky you never did see. That would be what I was singing as I trundled along the moorland bridleway West of Belmont going over Rivington Moor. Glorious day, albeit so windy that a lane described by my favourite mountain bike trail writer, Henry Tindell as a "gentle but insidious rise" gave rise to some alarm as strong gusts of wind buffetted me from side to side.
A glorious morning it was for a ride. Ten miles drive to the starting point at Smithills near Bolton, and a 20 mile circuit which took me 2 hours 40. Only really got lost the once. The ride took me up through a wooded road alongside a stream where the old mill cottages had their own walkways going over the stream from their front garden to the road. Then along a bridleway, past a farm and heading out to the road. Some road riding swooping uphills and downhills, up a mental steep but short hill at Belmont. Very pleased to see at this point a signpost to public toilets, and having located these at the far corner of a field with not a soul in sight ... took the bike in with me. I take security just a little too seriously sometimes. Up, and up, and up along the road, past a bundle of fire engines checking out the moorland fires on Anglezarke, and onto a crazy paving style bridleway. Forget trying to pick a line, there was no line, just bumpity bumpity bumpity and avoid keeping your arse in contact with the saddle if you want to be able to sit down tonight. Twas wonderful fun. Bouncy bouncy bouncy and you come out to a panorama which makes the whole thing worth it.
The view duly admired, round the next corner this lovely building survives, Pike Cottage.
Not a clue what it's purpose is other than to provide good foreground for photographs for the millions of walkers.
Although from the cottage it was a descent, it was mighty tough, tough indeed. Pedalling like a woman possessed just to keep the momentum going over the rocky pathway, but also hampered on a downhill by the almighty head wind. It was a very very blowy day.
Lovely route, may do it again ... but then again there are so many other possibilities crying out to be tackled ...
A glorious morning it was for a ride. Ten miles drive to the starting point at Smithills near Bolton, and a 20 mile circuit which took me 2 hours 40. Only really got lost the once. The ride took me up through a wooded road alongside a stream where the old mill cottages had their own walkways going over the stream from their front garden to the road. Then along a bridleway, past a farm and heading out to the road. Some road riding swooping uphills and downhills, up a mental steep but short hill at Belmont. Very pleased to see at this point a signpost to public toilets, and having located these at the far corner of a field with not a soul in sight ... took the bike in with me. I take security just a little too seriously sometimes. Up, and up, and up along the road, past a bundle of fire engines checking out the moorland fires on Anglezarke, and onto a crazy paving style bridleway. Forget trying to pick a line, there was no line, just bumpity bumpity bumpity and avoid keeping your arse in contact with the saddle if you want to be able to sit down tonight. Twas wonderful fun. Bouncy bouncy bouncy and you come out to a panorama which makes the whole thing worth it.
The view duly admired, round the next corner this lovely building survives, Pike Cottage.
Not a clue what it's purpose is other than to provide good foreground for photographs for the millions of walkers.
Although from the cottage it was a descent, it was mighty tough, tough indeed. Pedalling like a woman possessed just to keep the momentum going over the rocky pathway, but also hampered on a downhill by the almighty head wind. It was a very very blowy day.
Lovely route, may do it again ... but then again there are so many other possibilities crying out to be tackled ...
Sunday, 1 May 2011
Dress Sense
One of the great things about the hybrid bike is that I don't feel some kind of misguided peer pressure to affect cycling clothing. I can sling on a t-shirt of any variety and a pair of 3/4 length trousers (with cycling shorts for comfort underneath) and just head out. I don't feel the need to match specialist gear to a specialist bike in the way I do the mountain bike, just get out there in civvies. Makes a spontaneous or indeed covert bike ride entirely possible and speedy. Great thing about this bike too is that I feel it's somehow OK to not go for a serious ride, but with an hour of time on my hands get out there for a spin, and an hour is fine because this is not "serious" riding but leisure spinning or more often, simply transport. So trotted out the bike on Thursday afternoon at about 1:45 knowing I needed to leave home in the car at 3pm to head off to North Wales.
The advantage of knowing you only have an hour (I built in some time to shower afterwards) is that you can chose to hit the pedals hard, get the lungs gasping in a short space of time, safe in the knowledge you only have an hour, and how much damage and pain can you inflict upon yourself in that time, truly? Freedom too of not carrying a rucksack or a pannier, as all you really need for such a short ride is a teeny saddle pack complete with tyre levers, spare inner tube and teeny tiny mini pump. Freedom can be easy.
Checking my yellowing bruises nearly daily but have reached the conclusion that attendance at next week's christening will have to be in a maxi dress. My legs look like I have been beaten.
The advantage of knowing you only have an hour (I built in some time to shower afterwards) is that you can chose to hit the pedals hard, get the lungs gasping in a short space of time, safe in the knowledge you only have an hour, and how much damage and pain can you inflict upon yourself in that time, truly? Freedom too of not carrying a rucksack or a pannier, as all you really need for such a short ride is a teeny saddle pack complete with tyre levers, spare inner tube and teeny tiny mini pump. Freedom can be easy.
Checking my yellowing bruises nearly daily but have reached the conclusion that attendance at next week's christening will have to be in a maxi dress. My legs look like I have been beaten.
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