Yellow leaves

Yellow leaves cover the roads now: they shine under the October early morning drizzle. Very poetic, except they accumulate on the side of the roads - if there's a cycle path, they completely cover it. Once moist with rain they are as slippery as a laundry floor after an overspill of soapy suds.

As I get to Lower Broughton a kid cycling to school with his mates proves my point the hard way - they are riding on the pavement (just as bad) and trying to climb the kerb slightly off angle ends up with him on the floor. At least he combines lower height and lower mass - sorry, but better him than me: when I fall, it hurts. He, on the other hand, bounces straight back and carries on, to my relief.

So, I ride well away from pavements and leave-covered cycle paths, and keep an eye on my speed downhill, especially if there are traffic lights, pedestrian crossings, traffic etc.

Learning to ride

You can read it in books, but teaching your child to ride a bike is one of those life's experiences. Each child is different -

my 2nd one learn to ride at nursery, one day I turned up to pick him up and he was pedalling this tiny bike all on his own. My eldest didn't seem interested, but eventually learned the same way I had - you push them by the seat until they gather speed, then at some point let go.

The method involves a few falls, which is why I favour grass surfaces these days (my younger brother back in Peru wasn't so lucky; come to think of it, neither was I - it was pavement for us in them days). So I took No.3 to the park a couple of weeks ago, and gave it a go. Long overdue.

The good news is that she did get to ride on her own. We just run out of time as the weather closed in, and have not had the chance since, so next spring we'll have to try harder, for longer - so that she can reach that tipping point of self-belief that enables us all to carry on when our senses tell us we shouldn't be able to, without anyone else holding on to the back of our seat or rack.

Come to think of it, how handy reaching that tipping point would come in other spheres of life.

Something I saw last week

Nothing to do with cycling - except that this is the sort of thing that tends to get missed when in a car: somewhere between Cheetham Hill and Heaton Park a bunch of orthodox Jewish kids are going to school. Out of one of their rucksacks something falls - they don't notice it and walk briskly on.

A muslim gentleman picks up the thing - a notebook or pencil case - and follows them. He catches up them at the traffic light and hands the thing over with a kindly expression. The kids look mildly bewildered.

That's it. The whole thing lasts 30", then we all move on, get on with our busy lives.

Should've got on me bike

Went to the Southport Airshow yesterday. Yes, it's like admitting to liking bullfighting or Top Gear: I shouldn't, but I do. Hadn't been since 2005 - because then, getting there took hours stuck in traffic jams. But I thought this year I would be clever. Think again.

Going in took 2 hours - of which the last 4 miles took 1 hour. Getting out took 3 hours, of which getting out of the car park took 1h15min, the next 4 miles took 45' and then it was fine again.

What I should have done - what I saw others do - is cycle in. Perhaps not all the 45 miles, not with the children (yet!), but easily the last 5 miles. And who knows, one day we could do the whole hog on two wheels. In fact, I saw plenty of cycle lanes, just like in Crosby and Morecambe, so perhaps there's a 'West Lancs' cycle ride waiting for us?

More cyclists out there?

At first I thought it was all down to pesky 'fair weather' cyclists - those who when the sun shines get the old bike out for a bit of exercise, then store it away at the first sign of rain.

Sorry, I'm talking about cycle parking and shower facilities where I work. In the past, most of the time I had the freedom of the building yard when it came to parking, and a choice of showers as there's one on the ground floor (open to all building occupants) and another one upstairs in my employer's offices (two in fact, since one is designated 'male' and the other 'female' but they are both individual showers, so the distinction is purely academic).

Yet recently I experienced for the first time a queue for all 3 showers - OK, a queue of 1 in each, but it meant a wait of 15'. And I notice that the yard bike racks are busy even in bad weather. So, it must be a sign that more people are cycling than before - or that the building's occupancy has risen. Or perhaps that Manchester College (one of the tennants) is using more of their space here as classrooms. I suspect is all of the above.

Now, it would be fine if it wasn't because many fellow cyclists (and this is an old bugbear of mine) tend to park their bikes in between racks, rather than mount their rides ON them. I know, these racks are not the best and they risk being 'wheel benders' but there's only so much room, yet people merrily plonk their bikes, on the ground, in between two racks. In some cases this is because they've got D-locks and that's the only way they can wrap it round both frame and at least the bike wheel. In other cases, it's just sheer laziness. In all cases, it feels inconsiderate and is a bit of a bugger for those of us who, after the school run, arrive at work that little bit later.

There is of course extra (and more secure) parking in the building's basement, but getting to it is like making it through the 36 chambers of Shaolin - three flights of stairs, four doors, a combination lock. The basement in question is the old factory loos of when this building was some sort of factory, complete with wooden panels separating white toilets against a background of green tiles. Behind so many doors, it is a very eerie place - nobody would hear you scream if you came across a ghost...

The James Martin Bandwagon

Yes: me too! me too! I too have read about James Martin's silly (and now edited) little article, ostensibly about a modern electric car.

Despite the Mail editing out the description of James Martin callous offence, Mr Martin's infantile diatribe against cyclists has remained:

"God, I hate those cyclists. Every last herbal tea-drinking, Harriet Harman-voting one of them. That's one of the reasons I live in the countryside, where birds tweet, horses roam, pigs grunt and Lycra-clad buttocks are miles away. But recently, there's been a disturbing development.

Each Saturday, a big black truck appears at the bottom of my road, with bikes stuck to the roof and rear. Out of it step a bunch of City-boy ponces in fluorescent Spider-Man outfits, shades, bum bags and stupid cleated shoes, who then pedal around our narrow lanes four abreast with their private parts alarmingly apparent. Do they enjoy it? They never smile. I'm sure they just come here to wind me up.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-1211917/JAMES-MARTIN-The-Tesla-Roadster-electric-supercar-thats-fast-Ferrari.html#ixzz0Rb4qJ7Nz"

So, "we" - ie all cyclists - drink herbal tea and jump red lights as a matter of routine, while the likes of Mr Martin, surely, have never broken the speed limit in their lives and drive their cars with saintly restraint and patience?

Just like Nigel Havers before him, here's another moronic part-time journo trying to pander to their ultra-conservative (nay, bigoted) audience, by showing that they 'hate the things you hate' and that they can match their audience's ignorance (of, for instance, taxation - there is no such thing as 'road tax'!).

James Martin goes to show that a flashy car does not make you into a knob - but it helps!

Missed chance

We went to the Peak District this weekend. Alas, we didn't go cycling - we thought about it, knowing that the Tissington Trail and the High Peak Trail run near Hartington Hall (where we stayed). We decided to keep it simple and spend Saturday walking instead - and Sunday visiting Chatsworth House - the ultimate haven for the terminally aspirational. We felt that packing enough bikes for everyone would be too much hassle for a Friday night, that the weather may not be so good, that renting bikes would be difficult.

Funnily enough, the weather was extremely good, and at the youth hostel we run into friends who had organised themselves and did go cycling - they carried some bikes, hired some and with a bit of planning managed to get two days of family fun on two wheels - why, they even hired a tandem bike to cater for a young lad with special needs, who thoroughly enjoyed it.

I try not to be consumed by shame when I make mistakes - we have vowed to return, properly equipped and armed with knowledge. Our friends' friends were also full of good advice on adult bike rides other than the C2C, so we had a good conversation about, for instance, Brugges to Amsterdam...

Public humiliation

No speed; no style; no dignity...

I was working at home yesterday so as to be able to drop my car in the garage in the morning and collect it at the end of the day. I had planned to take a local radio cab to collect me from the garage in the morning, but they let me down - so I walked home, 30' in the rain.

By 4pm I realised I had to get the car - they close at 5pm religiously and leave your car in a dark alley overnight. Options:
- Call a taxi and risk being let down again
- Walk 30' in the rain again

Would cycling be an option? Not with a small car: how would I get the bike back home once I had the car? and then I remembered...

Three years ago I bought a cheap fold up bike. Ebay job, £30, this ain't no classic British beauty, no Brompton or such like. But could it rise to the ocassion and be the solution to my problem?
I got it out of the loft, pumped up the tyres (gone flat after 3 years). On the plus side, assembly was very quick indeed - one-two-three job with saddle post, steering and central hinge. Rear brake never worked, but at least the front one did.

So I set off - and how quickly did the bike's shortcomings become apparent! Not tall enough, my legs could not extend well. No gears - I know, I've gone soft but I do like my gears. Tiny wheels, too short a frame, it was more like riding my kids scooter propped on a stool on top of it. With my Altura hig-viz jacket, I must have looked like a circus clown - a group of youths I went past on the way told me as much (and more!).

Sorry, I took no photos.

Back to school

Schools are gradually going back this week - some not until tomorrow, so roads still relatively quiet. Most of the summer roadworks that turn so many parts of the route into chaos are finished or nearly done. The routine of school time quickly reasserts itself. Once at work, a bit of fair weather had once more flooded the racks with bikes, all slotted in between racks rather than mounted properly on them - so, each bike takes the space of two or even three. Irksome, but infrequent - come the rain, two thirds of those bikes will disappear from view until the next sunny morning tempts their owners back on the saddle (and that only while summer lasts).

Not a lot to report otherwise - must clean & lubricate my bike. Must take the kids out on the bike more. Must teach my youngest to ride. Must start thinking about next year's touring ride - do the C2C for a 3rd time? Or try something else - and if so, what?

My Sheffield bike

When I first came to the UK, as a student in Sheffield in 1989, getting a bike was not in my list of priorities - I had plenty on my plate with coming to grips with the language, the accents, customs, etc.

Eventually, some friends I made lent me a number of items that they knew would come in handy - first among them the TV (black and white - cheaper license!). One day they offered me a bicycle. In Sheffield, you understand, you don't think 'bike' immediately - what with all the hills to climb!. But I figured that I could always walk up the hill, but going down the hill a bike would save me time. I was right. Going from Broomhill to the railway station became much quicker (handy for early morning trains). Where before I'd have spent 45' walking, I could get there in 15'. Going back to Broomhill would take me an hour - but then, it always did.

The cycle in question was an old red Raleigh, a bit rusty in places but on the whole serviceable. There was a catch with this bike loan though: I was supposed to do my best to get it nicked, as my friends hoped that they'd claim it on the insurance and buy a swanky new stead to replace it. I have to say I signally fail to oblige. One day I went to the station and locked the bike using a D-lock I'd borrowed. A couple of days later my friend told me when I saw him "I saw the bike the other day at the station: Jay-sus man, with a lock like that you'll never get it stolen!". Another time it was Friday night and I'd parked the bike at the computer centre (remember, when all PCs where in a single building you had to go to). We all went to the pub afterwards and I "forgot" the bike. The following morning I turned up to retrieve it, hoping it'd be gone. It wasn't. Moreover, as I unlocked the flimsy padlock (I'd learnt my lesson) an old copper on the beat approached. "Young man - he said - if you leave your bike like this you'll have it stolen" he warned me sternly. If only........

Trailer bike part II: freedom of the city

In the end, the solution was ready at hand: I managed to sort out the trailer bike - used a piece of plastic packing from an old D-lock holder and with some hammering it went snuggly around my seatpost. I tightened it well and presto! the trailer bike was up and running.

And what for? To take part in the Manchester Skyride. I'm no fan of big media, but this was a good event - it certainly was perfect for the family. We all enjoyed the city being turned over to us - roads closed, cars made to wait at traffic lights by diligent stewards. We enjoyed doing a lap round the impresive velodrome, and having a picnic in the good weather (Rupert Murdoch's influence obviously is far-reaching. I liked the free high-viz vests - the way in which they created a sense of shared purpose among the many participants. I liked the oddballs - the relatively few whose rides were unusual - unicycles, Danish-style utility trikes, chopper cycles glittering in the sun, a modern version of the penny farthing, and a telescopic bicycle with a frame that puts the rider six feet above the ground.

Do you know anything about trailer bikes...?

I have a kid's trailer bike - or is the right term a 'tag-along'?. You know: a bike's rear-half, with wheel, seat, pedals, chain and a fixed handle-bar to hold on to. We got it from friends and I've used it once. The hitch is... well, it is the 'hitch' - the attachment that secures the tag-along to my bike's seatpost. It is too wide for my seatpost, I suspect because it was meant to come with some sort of plastic packing that got lost along the way.

I tried to pack it with bits of my old rubber inner tubes, and it seemed to work... but alas, only when going in a straight line. Any bends would cause the hitch to shift to the side, and because of the way it articulates with the tag-along, the more the hitch was out of aligment with my bike, the more the tag-along tilted. This happened, luckily, away from traffic one day I took my kids to Tatton Park (yes, I drove there - spare me the sermon).

My eldest gave me a shout at some point, for I had no idea there was any problem. My poor youngest was holding on precariously, the tag-along tilted at an angle behind me. Another bend and she'd ended up on the ground. Not something a 4-year old is likely to forget (or forgive) in a hurry.

Last summer we gave family cycling a miss - it was, if you'll remember, such a washout, and what with the two weeks in Spain (rented car for 1 week) etc. So, yesterday I naively went round a couple of shops with the 'hitch' in my hand, looking for alternatives to fit my bike. It is not, I fear, as simple as that. "Make and model of the tag-along?" No idea - it's a rusty old thing we got from friends. "Ah, well, there are different attachments depending on the manufacturer". And as for a new tag-along, they are, in my view, too expensive for what they are - half-bikes which won't carry heavy loads and for not very long.

The answer is probably to grasp the nettle and teach the little one to ride - off with the stabilisers!

JZU

Blue little van, unmarked, driven by youngster in blue sweatshirt. Plonked on the cyclists green 'start line' at the junction of Princess and Portland St. I often use the red light time to shift to the right hand lane, so I can more easily turn when I get to Whitworth St (the next set of traffic lights) - at that point the right lane is 'right turn' only, and normally there's too much traffic for me to shift from left to right just by sticking my right arm and being 'assertive'.

Most motorists don't mind - I can see some feel I'm going to 'delay' them or that somehow I shouldn't be there, but on the left and out of sight. But once they overtake me (on my left - there's plenty of room) that is the end of it.

Not today. Today the chap in the van was of the redneck persuasion - territorial and with a big, big chip on his shoulder. How dare I get in front of him? It took him but a second to overtake me, but not without looking at me and shouting abuse like I had just taken his lolly. Poor baby.

School is out

Ah yes. The summer holidays have an effect on my cycling routine. No school means some days I have to work from home (yes, really) so I can either look after one or more of my progenie, or deliver them to 'playscheme'. It just wouldn't make sense to go all the way into Town only to head back home by 3pm. Luckily my employer (in these times I should say 'my current employer') gives me a lot of flexibility in that respect.

So, today I said 'sod it' and went for a 40' ride after dropping the kids - so what if I start work 40' later? It's still 10am - my normal 'start work' time on Mondays and Tuesdays. I cycled to the end of Heaton Park and back. Just enough to give me a bit of a workout and keep my joints from rusting as they so quickly do nowadays.

The other thing about the summer holidays is that there is less traffic - but is it just me, or this year not as many people have bolted abroad as soon as the whistle went? I feel that, say, two years ago, Manchester on the Monday after the end of the school term was more like a ghost town. Now, while the usual mad race for the school gates is off, the roads were far from quiet. Yes, I did see quite a few cars with rooftop boxes, so perhaps it is next week I'll notice the difference, once all those Mancunians who have opted for UK seaside holidays this year have gone.

Shedding a load...

For four years I have always carried a rucksack on my back when cycling to and from work. I did it because I wanted somewhere to put my valuables (now you know!) - my Peruvian instinct telling me that a pannier is all very well but it could possibly be nicked at the traffic lights or something. Sometimes the rucksack came in handy for extra loads, esp. in the winter, but more often than not it just filled up with stuff because it was there - the trully essential items didn't amount to that much.

But with the recent hot weather, I decided it was time to try something different. Why not load more in the pannier (those pieces of paper from work, my lunch, etc) and keep the valuables in a 'bumbag'?

After a week, I'm wondering what took me so long - how much unnecessary sweat my back has produced, for lack of ventilation.

I'll still carry the rucksack for longer rides, to carry my hydration bag (or perhaps I'll get myself one of those nifty little packs with a lower footprint). It may be that in the winter I come to need the extra room if I have to carry, say, a jacket or coat to work. But on any other weather I can't see myself going back to the old rucksack.

Poetry in motion

Many an unsung poet the English language has! Take for instance the anonymous bod who penned the following verses:

"Caution!

Bollards in motion!"

A veritable urban haiku! In this case, a safety announcement used in various Manchester city centre locations to warn motorists about the moving, sensor-activated telescopic bollards that open restricted roads to buses only, and on which distracted or stupid drivers have been known to end up.

Of course, they are no obstacle to us cyclists - unlike pedestrians who mistake the absence of motorised traffic as a license to roam the road at their leisure and completely disregard us.

Huffing and puffing

Leave the bike for three and a half weeks, and you'll feel the fall in fitness when you get back on the saddle. To be fair, I'm looking after my knees too - happy that they are not hurting anymore, but weary the problem may flare up again if I give them too hard a time - so I'm not.

Patience, I think, holds the key to a full recovery. I'll take a couple more weeks easy, then start increasing the pace, then try longer rides, little by little, so that by the end of the year I feel ready to plan the next C2C. The peace of the moors, even in the thick rain and cold wind, beckons.

The Angel of the North

Her smile was pure, 100% British: honest, sincere and untouched by modern dentistry. She was young, but clearly a seasoned road cyclist - nothing about her had that air of 'new' that many other cyclists (especially, dare I say, female ones) have - the little rucksack, the lycra clothing, the bike itself all had the weathered look of things that have seen hundreds of miles.

All this I observed in a fraction of a second, as she overtook me on the way back home, just at the north end of Heaton Park. I was huffing and puffing with effort, trying to keep my blooming knees in their comfort zone, while she just seem to effortlessly glide past me.

By the time I reached the M60 I'd lost all sight of her.

4 years later, part II

It seems as if I've broken the back of my knee trouble, at least for now: I've cycled to work and back, twice, and I feel fine (a bit of a tingle down at the knees, but nothing too bad).

I took it easy, mind - keeping the gears low and trying to be extra patient on the up-hills, even if to the passer-by I must look a bit ridiculous, pedalling fast while moving slowly. I imagine that's the way it's going to have to be, at least for now.

So, four years (and a day) since I started cycling, I'm still at it. To think that for the first year I pedalled on the higher seven gears - is it any wonder my knees give me trouble now?. Like then, this week the weather has been rather good in Manchester. Like then, work laid out a free breakfast for Bike Week (though it was a full English back then, now it can only extend to a bagel!).

Baby steps, 4 years later...

Yesterday I got on my bike for the first time since I did the C2C, over 3 weeks ago. It was only to do 400yds, but it was a start. Today I was even more ambitious: 30' of cycling pleasure, to test my knee joint before I resume normal service.

The good news is the pain I felt before didn't oome back. But there is a bit of a tingle, in the wrong kind of way, there. So, I'll have to take it easy.

Meanwhile, tomrrow Sunday 14 June 09, I will celebrate 4 years since I started cycling again - my best decision in years.

Knee trouble

Went to the doctor last Weds. Since doing the C2C, over 2 weeks ago, my knees have been bothering me, particularly the right one. Plus, I'm a hypochondriac and reading up about knee trouble in cycling websites may have worsened my condition (?).

Doctor says I shouldn't worry - a condescending smile as I explained I did the C2C with not much more training than my commute to work (from zero to heroe...?). It must be a sprained ligament, keep rubbing ibuprofen gel in, and take another week. So, back on the saddle next Weds, and then gently - build it up etc.

On another tack, yesterday I saw a cyclist and a pedestrian collide at the junction of Whitworth St. and Princess St. Or rather, I saw them get up - they were reasonably civil to each other. I don't know whose fault it was, but the pedestrian looked apologetic (and very shortsighted).

C2C 2009

We did it. In a larger group, against a contrary wind, but we did it.

I'm not going to bore you with too many details - the route was a variation on last year. After overnighting in Penrith (for the sake of accommodation for 15 of us!) we were driven to Workington, where we started from this year. Then we rode through Cockermouth and on to Keswick (brief stop) and then for lunch to Threlkeld - a long story... here goes: some of us wanted to watch the Man Utd - Arsenal game. Yep, that one that ended 0-0 (hindsight is a wonderful thing). Mate Ian had googled the Keswick area for a pub that would show the match. He came across The Sanitation (or sumffin like'aat). When we turned up.... there had been a big mistake. Yes, the Sanitation had Setanta... but the match was on Sky Sports (the girl Ian spoke to was either thick, devious or just didn't give a monkeys).

The group at that point split into three - the fitter ones who had arrived to the pub in time for the game and decided to stay anyway; the three at the rear who were in still Keswick when the van got to Threlkeld, and managed to find a pub there that did show the match; and Ian and I who decided not to grace the offending pub with our custom, but to press on to Greystoke for a coffee instead (which we did). Then on to Penrith, where we all met back at the same accommodation.

The second day was the big one. This year we had decided, based on Ian and my advice (from last year's experience) to end not in Rookhope, but 7 miles further, at Parkhead Station. Don't get me wrong - Parkhead Station is an absolutely fine place to stay and I'll happily recommend it to anyone, and we did want to make the last day an all-downhill one, a rest, end on a high note etc. But we hadn't counted on the wind blowing from the East, a strong wind at that. The first day this had affected us a little - on the second day it made going downhill hard work, and going uphill (which you do, a lot) gruelling. The morning was fine otherwise, sunny and reasonably warm, but as we got to Hartside Top Cafe the weather began to turn. Suffice to say, hours later, as we stopped for a life-saving coffee at the Rookhope Inn (where Ian and I had stayed last year) I was cursing myself for having added 7 miles to the second day. It was 6.30pm and the weather was trully foul. We got to Parkhead Station at 8.15pm, wet, cold and shattered after 90' on the open moor under icy rain with bits of sleet thrown in for good measure.

The 3rd and final day should have been a breeze, but my knees were aching after day 2 - the right one seriously so. I limped to Sunderland at the rear of the group. It was a delight to get to the end, but I've not been able to cycle since (it's been a week now) and my right knee still hurts a bit. Watch this space.

Lessons? Larger groups are tricky to manage - navigation can be a challenge, as it is impossible to avoid becoming separated. Training pays off (I didn't do enough). Having bike serviced pays off (well, it cost me a bob or two, but it was worth it as the gears worked a treat).

Will I do it again? Yes, I hope I will - or perhaps a different route (Brugges to Amsterdam has been mentioned - all flat and more time for beer!).

London calling...

Compared to Manchester, cycling in London is thriving - there's more of them, a wider variety of shapes and sizes and styles, from the Hell's Angel, nazi-helmet character to the genteel, continental style high-heeled lady - and of course, the lycra brigade in its various sub-species (incl. mine) are well represented.

That said, the experience of cycling in central London cannot be pleasant. The traffic, the pedestrians, the tourists, other cyclists, it all seems to me bound to make the ride that little bit less enjoyable. And the things I see some cyclists do - this chap, for instance, at high speed between the two slow moving rows of cars, then a sharp bank to the right and then counter-bank to the left to zig-zag around a double-decker - either consumate skill or tremendous folly. A pedestrian stepping in the way at the wrong moment or a car door opening, and it could all end in tears so easily.

Sometimes I toy with the idea of cycling in London - ie if I have to go to Head Office as I sometimes do, to take my bike in the train and then go from Euston by bike, then back to Euston etc. Or perhaps I could dust off the little, primitive foldable I bought nearly three years ago.

Arse of bike maintenance III: I never learn...

"This is my father's hammer. The head was replaced once, and the handle six times"

Old chinese proverb (or was it Polish? Australian? Who cares!)

When I first bought my bike, back in July 2006, I knew very little about bicycle maintenance. Strewth! It's not something I'd ever bothered with as a child - much as I spent idyllic summers on the saddle, worn chains and shot bearings were not an issue you worried about. Thirty years and 80Kg later, I know more but do almost as much - very little.

By the time I started practising to do the C2C for the first time, in early 2008, my gears were slipping so badly I had to be careful to start any pedalling very slowly. Needless to say, I paid for my lack of care, in cash - the good people of the Bicycle Boutique restored my bike for almost the amount of money I paid for the bike in the first place! Add kevlar tyres (bought from Prestwich's "Bike Factory Shop" - where I got my Tourismo from) and I'd invested quite a bit on the old thing.

Come last October, I had to do it all again - well, almost. New chain etc. To be honest, my bike worked a treat after this. But how many times did I clean and lubricate my bike between late October and now? Twice. And by 'lubricating' I mean only the chain - greasing hubs and stuff like that are simply beyond my poor skills.

So, should I be surprised when, having taking the bike to the Bicycle Boutique again, the bill came to an eye-watering £99? I guess not. I was shown the chain and cogs - which I myself never inspect, precisely so as not to be burdened by guilt - and they were visibly worn.

Special mention should go to the pedals, which I'd had since October 2006 and which I never ever lubricated - they had more play in them than my car's gear stick. I did consider not having the work done until after the C2C ride - after all, this is the bike I've been riding to work and back, 14 miles at least 3 times a week. Why would it break just because I'm cycling 150 miles in a weekend, including steady climbs over the Pennines? Why indeed... so on reflection I chose to have the work done - and enjoy the ride.

Bicycle Boutique were as good as before - I did have to remind them to transfer my recently acquired toe-clips to the new pedals! But they are true cyclists' cyclists and know far more about bikes than I do - plus they are in the right place for me, and I still think they offer value for money.

Close Encounters and Near Misses

I was cycling home along Bury Old Rd, just before crossing the M60.  I know, one should always be at max. alert, ready for anything, etc.  But the mind drifts after 45min.  Suddently, I felt something to my right - not 'heard', felt, for my bike had been 'touched', only slightly. t was another cyclist.  A lycra-man, nice racing bike, shades, no luggage other than a bottle of orange stuff, clad in white-red-n-blue like blooming Chris Hoy.  

A black van was next to him.  I figure he'd been overtaking me, the man in the black van had decided to overtake both of us, and the road had decided to narrow just at that moment.  How very inconvenient.  I did the only thing I could, which was to stay the course in as straight a line as I was able.  The van gave a bit more room, and lycra-man raced ahead, swearing loudly and waving a fist at the van.   The the van sped away, and I continued my way home, shaken - not stirred.

Heating, uniforms and the return of...

In many countries of Eastern Europe, the 'central' in central heating means central government: heating comes on at a certain date late in the year (when cold weather is expected to kick in) and is turned off when Spring arrives. I once spent a few days in Skopje in early March (OK, it was 10 years ago) and because it was unusually warm at 16c, I had to sleep with the windows open to counter the effect of a huge radiator in full blast.

In Lima (Peru) the Police used to have a very rigid distinction between 'winter' uniform (a green jacket over a khaki shirt) and 'summer' uniform (just the shirt, no jacket). The changeover took place at a certain time of the year - usually, they'd end up enduring the odd day of hot weather in their winter attire, or shivering in Lima's persistent winter drizzle in short sleeves.

And what does all this have to do with cycling? Well, not a lot - I was just thinking that, luckily, I'm not bound by rigid rules like those, so I'm responding to the good weather... and the shorts are back!. It's a highlight of my cycling year, just like when I have to switch the lights on to go home in October.

Also, only four weeks to the Coast to Coast...

The lady again

As I've said in a previous post, often on my ride bike home I come across this seemingly continental lady cycling the other way - into town. Well dressed in civy clothes (in winter these include leather boots and quilted coat), her bike very much a 'town' one, built for comfort (though I did notice a change from the original one - and hoped it wasn't due to theft). And no helmet - just like in the continent, some may say.

Worringly though, yesterday I saw her again, but this time... wearing a helmet. I sincerely hope this has not come about due to an accident or mishap, or that at any rate it was a near miss and no actual harm came to her. I can't imagine, though, that she's shifted to wearing a helmet out of a desire to keep up with UK fashion. I suspect that, like the rest of us, lack of safety (perceived or real) has led her to adopt this (perceived or real) safety measure.

Quosque tandem, Catilina...

Collecting bikes...

It's Easter. Time to visit family - and collect a couple of bikes for my children. One is a hand-me down from Big Cousin. In perfect condition, 20" frame, front suspension and complete with cycle computer, my boy has been looking forward to getting it for weeks. He's very pleased with it - his first 'real' bike, one could say - a full size bike, almost too heavy for him to hold, but he'll grow into it.

The other bike has a more complicated history. My F-in-L's friend found it in his garden. Someone had thrown it over the fence. I reckon it's a 22" frame - a mountain bike, with front suspension and good 'rapid fire' gears identical to the ones in my 'Tourismo 24'. Even the brakepads seems fairly new. The only hitches with it are a bit of rust in two of the cables (but another cable seems brand-new) and the rear tyre shredded to bits (yet the front tyre is in good condition). A mistery - but still, a bargain: £13 on new parts.

Turning left, the friendly way

Not all drivers are nasty pillocks. Some of them are polite pillocks - like this chap yesterday, who caught up with me as I approached a junction, and hovered, signalling to turn left, until we made eye contact.

I played it safe and stopped - I waved him on, my hint of sarcasm seemingly lost on him, who smiled and gave me the thumbs up: cheers, mate!

I count myself lucky that he didn't just make the turn and run me over. But how little effort and time it would have taken for him to just get behind me - I'd have cleared the junction in no time, and he'd been on his way just as quickly.

The location? Cheetham Hill, of course. Perhaps I need to try a different route.

The helmets debate

This is a written answer to a parliamentary question to the Transport secretary :

====================================
Mr. Bone: To ask the Secretary of State for Transport what timetable he has set for the publication of his Department's review of the wearing of cycle helmets. [261798]
9 Mar 2009 : Column 10W
Jim Fitzpatrick: The Department has commissioned a research project looking at a range of road safety and cycling issues. This will examine the following topics:
Road user safety and cycling data;
Cycling infrastructure;
Attitudes and behaviours;
Bicycle helmets.
The project has been commissioned from a consortium led by the Transport Research Laboratory.
The contract began on 21 August 2008 and will run for 24 months. The Department expects to publish the final reports in autumn 2010.
====================================

So, there we are - watch this space and all that

That fiscal year end

End of March: end of the fiscal, or financial year in the public sector. Link to cycling? All cycle lanes and road markings in Manchester city centre have had a shiny, new lick of paint. I'm sure it was planned months in advance, you understand.

Half toe clips

I've just fitted a pair of half-toe clips I bought on ebay. I had had the full toe clips before, with straps n' all, but after a couple of almost-comic falls (comic to bystanders - I wasn't laughing!) I gave up. Great while touring, but not for city commuting. So far, so good with half-toe clips - they provide some of the grip while being easy to get out of.


I know some people will say 'but why not just get SPD?'. It's a matter of choice, I suppose - personally, I can't bring myself to the idea. Special shoes, for a start. And although I've seen 'dual' pedals, the whole point is that you have to wear special shoes - not for me! To cap it all, SPD cyclists always seem to prefer to hover on traffic lights - showing that clipping on and off the pedals can't be all that straightforward.

Photo from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/14169178@N04/3278867421/

Juu, Juu

A near miss - nearer than normal. On Princess St, just past the Princess Hotel, as I've cleared the set of traffic lights on Portland St, a car showed its nose on my left, ready to pounce onto Princess St when traffic was clear - which it was, except only for me...

Not for the first time, I thought that I'd made eye contact - the driver had definitely stopped and looked in my direction. Alas, she was one of those whose brain cannot fully process all the rich information her eyes convey - so, the road clear of cars she decided the coast was clear (never mind the pesky cyclist in bright reflective clothing!) and off she went - or nearly. Both my quick reaction - a stroke of the steering away from her path - and hers (she did manage to stop, just) prevented a tragedy - at my expense, it would have been.

I can't lip-read but she looked apologetic - I'd like to think she was actually saying 'sorry' and acknowledging we'd both had a lucky escape (hers from insurance complications, mine from ending with my bones in A&E).

The car in question was an acrylic green Ford Fiesta (or was it a small Focus?), last 3 letters of the number plate 'JUU'. The date was 16 Mar 09, time about 0940.

That competitive spirit

You must have been there: cycling, slightly uphill, then you sense someone's behind you. Then a tranquil ride back home turns into a war of wills until:

a) You regain your distance and leave the challenger well behind

b) You react too little too late, the challenger rides past you without breaking sweat

c) You struggle for a bit, but in the end yield to the inevitable, honour preserved having fought the good fight

I'm usually into (b) or (c). Of course, it can get more complicated. More than once I've been 'chased' by newbies who, for instance, try to 'under' take, passing between the kerb and myself - they must feel 'safer' that way. Very irritating. I have in those cases tried very hard to keep ahead without getting too close to the kerb myself, until a widening on the road would enable me to let them past. Pillocks!. Usually, these newbies' speed is down to straining hard on their top gear, 'walking' on the pedals for far longer than it is sensible if you want your knees to remain serviceable when you are 50.

And there are the cheaters. Yes: those you leave behind because clearly you are the stronger cyclist. Then you stop at the traffic light... and they don't.

The funny thing is, I always say to myself 'I'm not the competitive sort, I'm just commuting' but most of the time the desire not to be out-done kicks in.

Ocassionally, I'm overtaken by the friendly sort - they tend to be the serious performance, tour-de-Manchester cyclists, who glide effortlessly past you, often smile at you, perhaps even share some comment or witticism. Bless them.

My noble Lords...

According to the Hansard, the House of Lords debated walking and cycling on 16 Oct 2008. The starting question, put by Lord Krebs (a real name), was "What steps they are taking with local authorities to encourage walking and cycling in urban areas?".

I'm not being political here (not in the 'party' sense) but I'm left feeling we shouldn't put too much hope in this kind of debate producing much of use to real cyclists - or walkers.

Yes, it is good that cycling should be on the agenda and that Parliament should worry about 'cycling' and 'walking' levels in the UK being well.

Yes, one noble Lord did manage to correctly identify that not feeling safe when cycling is the main deterrent (the point David Hembrow is always making).

But it all seems to have fizzled out into statements that either reinforce prejudices or seem detached from reality - or at least, lacking in a holistic view of reality. Take this utterance:

"the big challenge for us is to see that children and adults alike feel confident in riding their bicycles on the streets and taking them out into those superb national parks and other areas of rural beauty and extremely healthful living that my noble friend highlighted"

So, it's not about cycling to work or cycling to school or to the shops - rather, it lumps cycling firmly on the leisure sector, as a pastime to be made enjoyable. Perhaps I exaggerate.

Then, a Baroness what's-her-name interjects with a spiteful-sounding

"My Lords, can the noble Lord tell us how many successful prosecutions have been brought against cyclists who have jumped red lights?"

Never mind that she's just been told the UK ranks very low in cycling levels in Europe! Let's focus on cycling as the problem, rather than the problems for cycling!

And although this quote is about walking, it surely gives a good picture of the level and relevance of the debate I'm referring to:

"My Lords, a lot has been said about cycling but not as much has been said about walking, although all the evidence shows that the amount of walking that people do is declining. I know what keeps me walking: it is my dog. Perhaps the Government should consider encouraging more people to keep dogs."
(Lord Hanningfield - own blog an'all!)

So there you have it, my noble Lords and Ladies: forget cycling, it's dog walking the nation needs.

Daylight!

I left at 7am today, lights on and flashing. And then at some point in the journey, it hit me: daylight! The worst of winter is over, at least as far as cycling in the dark is concerned.

I still cycle in the dark on the way back - though sometimes when I leave my desk it is still light, by the time I've changed and walked into the yard, the light is almost gone. But that too will change...

Learning to cope

This year's snow and ice did affect me. Having slipped on ice back in December, I was a bit coy about cycling on snow or icy roads. The problem was not so much the main roads (which make up most of my route) but my road and those around the house.

In the end, common sense did prevail. I walk the kids to school, for instance, then walk on to the main road and then I get on the bike. It takes a bit longer, but spares me the frustration of driving or using public transport. And what with going soft in your heated car and all that.

Bad back

Perhaps it's not cycling-related, but on Saturday night something just 'went' and I got a pretty sore back - a sharp, movement-related pain just below the right shoulder-blade.

On Sunday I went to the walk-in centre in Bury to have it seen to. Muscular, it seems - just rest it, take painkillers and enjoy!. Not a bad way to end the first week of my 44th year!.

Illuminations

Two nights ago, as I approached a dark junction, a driver who hadn't seen me had to slam on the brakes - I had seen him in plenty of time and was in the process of slowing down, ready to stop if necessary.

A minute later, as I cycled uphill, they caught up with me and the wife lowered her window and told me my lights were too weak - ah, so it was all my fault.

Now, part of me felt angry. When I got home I propped the bike on the fence, walked 20 steps or so and checked that I could see the lights - I could.

The other part me went to Halfords yesterday, bought and fitted new batteries for all my lights. They've been going since October, and it may be that my mind is playing a trick on me - 'scenario fullfilment syndrome' they call it, ie 'you see what you expect to see'. Best avoided, for a few quid.

(the photo is courtesy of: http://farm1.static.flickr.com/94/280084806_7d15ab9e09.jpg?v=0)

Preparations continue

Last Sunday, three of us went on another pro-C2C ride. We were supposed to go to Holcombe and Peel Tower, but thanks to PH's local knowledge it changed slightly - we got to Holcombe but then turn West and went back via Affetside.


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We covered 17 miles in 1h45' - no stops except to get our bearings after getting lost (a couple of times). Good stuff.

T'was Xmas!

Yes, it's over. I'm back at work. And back on the bike, after 10 days of almost complete exercise-less, home-based overindulgence (OK, did a couple of very short walks in freezing cold). Must remember: 2nd January is a great day for cycling - and for working. Hardly anyone out. Today, the weather while cold was very dry... and gave me the opportunity to try on Santa's gifts.

Yes, the man who 2.5 years ago vowed not to wear 'specialist' gear, has succumbed, caved in, become another lycra-wearing statistic. To add to last year's Altura trousers, this Xmas I got short and long sleeves 'base layers' (glorified t-shirts), a micro-fleece top and an ultra-reflective cycling rain jacket. Apart from the latter, all items were good-value and on offer. Only on the jacket did I really splash out, an Altura number, bought from Evans mainly because I wanted to try it on and make sure it fits - sorry, CTC online shop!.

About my change of heart from my early days, let me just say I've taken my time. Yes, there are good arguments to promote a kind of cyclo-commuting that is about getting to work as you would by any other means - fully clothed and ready for the day, riding a bike designed to protect one's clothes, provide comfort and enable a genteel journey over well-designed dedicated cycle lanes. I'm all for that... but not for me. My commute is also my 'gym', and while I'm not into performance (believe me!), I do aim to stretch myself a little, trying to build the foundations for bike touring - I made a start on this last year, and hope to cultivate it further in the future.

Plus, I have been going through cotton vests like chainlinks over chainrings (hey!), the house looking like a launderette, sweatie t-shirts making the wash basket smell. The new tops, I hope, will be less of a problem - what with their antibacterial coating, evil-eye shielding treatment and what have you. It all makes sense. Next stop will have to be footwear... and pedals?

It's Xmas....

When it comes to danger to cyclists, there is motorists, daft motorists and pedestrians. It is the latter group I fear the most, to be honest. And Xmas time sends pedestrians into overdrive, and makes getting out of town at night a bit of a nightmare. They become more careless, less considerate, more prone to stepping on to the road 'by ear', without looking.

All my possible exits from town are shopping areas (Deansgate, Shudehill, King St / Corporation St). People come out of shops laden with bags and boxes, and they just go for it. I have to be constantly on my toes - it all slows me down.

Reaching Great Ducie St is such a relief - at least then all I have to contend with is motorists.

Coast to Coast on Ice

Our preparations for the C2C May 2009 continue....

You know the feeling. You are lagging behind your group and come to a fork in the road. After a mile or so the boy scout in you whispers that you can't be following five other cyclists, on a frosty December morning, and find no trace at all on the path. Make immediate u-turn, undo the wasted mile, catch up, find them all waiting for you, set off again...

Welcome to our second C2C preparatory ride: we chose what may well turn out to be the coldest morning of the year. Initially, thick fog seemed would be our main problem. Think again. After my mates jettisoned my sensible suggestion to go to Peel Tower and back, and opted to repeat the route we used last time - the one I found muddy and difficult for my city-leaning hybrid bike (and my definite road-cycling preference). The moment we left the road and headed down to the cobblestoned canal towpath in Radclife I knew there'd be trouble. True enough, going down a ramp I hit a sheet of ice and fell - nothing major, but did find back at home I had a small gash on the left knee. Minutes later it was the other C2C veteran, Ian, who fell heavily on his side - the trouble is, when you are on soil, any ice breaks under your weight and you are mostly OK, but ocassionally you run over a concrete slab covered in a perfect sheet of ice.

So, I started lagging behind - and got lost. Then, Ian and I lagged behind... and yes, though we should have known better, we took the wrong turn at another fork in the road. First thing we noticed was that the slope got steeper and steeper - much more than we could remember from last time. Then we realise the M60 is close on our left - we can clearly hear traffic. What better moment to find we haven't got any mobile phone numbers for the rest of the group (we have been communicating by email). Phone James' wife hoping she won't think anything's happened to him, then get into the 'where are you?' conversation ('I don't know'). We stayed put for long enough and eventually the rest of the group found us. We decided we were too far off course to carry on with the original route: instead we went over the motorway (the trail we'd taken by mistake lead to a footbridge) then down to the A56/M60 roundabout, cross the motorway again at that point and head for Heaton Park, which we crossed in the middle then half-circled on another icy mud-track. Then head for home.

On the plus side, at least we are getting to know each other - and now everybody knows I am not to be in charge of navigating!. More seriously, we will have to improve our planning and communication 'protocols' to avoid this in future. The C2C is signposted in most places... but there are a few points with potential for confusion. As it is inevitable that we become separated or scatter, we are going to need more than one copy of the map. Plus, of course, some are going to want to do off road bits whenever possible, while I for one intend to stick firmly to roads or very good cycle paths, like last time.

(note: the above photo is not mine - it's from Flickr)

If only I knew more physics...

The other day, cycling in the rain down a long, quiet road, I noticed that the water made a 'line' that, when going in a straight direction, would be fully aligned with the centre of the wheel (see picture, Fig.A). Then I noticed that when I made small adjustments, little turns of the handle bar, the water line didn't follow the direction of the wheel - it stayed in its previous position, like a gyroscopic compass pointing to the true North.

I tried asking my more scientifically trained school friends of all for their input. All I got were recommendations to watch the road and comments about age finally getting to me. How disappointed Galileo would be...

Cycling with my son

I took my son out on the bike yesterday - nothing out of the ordinary there, but this time we did a bit more than just 'round the block'.

Things have moved on quite a bit since the picture included here - so it was high time to widen his horizons... a little. We went to St Mary's park in Prestwich, then (after the obligatory play on the climbing walls and spider webs) crossed the A56 and went into Prestwich Clough. It was muddy and bumpy, but the afternoon was clear and sunny in that November way, the paths lined thick with golden leaves and flanked by mighty trees and the somber tombstones of a cemetery. Plenty of people about though, so no chance to stop for a much needed 'wee'.

This was me capitalising on the pre-C2C bike ride of three weeks ago, when I first cycled that way, so I had hoped to make it to Radcliffe. Sadly, it was getting dark (and cold) so we bailed out at Clifton Rd and back to Prestwich, more or less completing a circle.

My boy was exhilarated - the world just got bigger! Cold and hungry, but happy. Same with me. Worth every mile.

Coast to Coast 2009

We have begun our preparations to do the C2C next year. 'We' has grown now from two to eleven of us - at least for the moment.


I didn't take a camera on this first ride - nor was the day a good one for photos. Three of us went to Radcliffe, first down the cobblestoned canal path (I suffered - had just had my bike serviced and parts changed for £78!) then along a muddy cycle path (suffered some more - now I need to clean it to prevent rust and another £78 bill!) and down Route 6 to Prestwich, then back home on normal roads. Couple of hours, good fun, it worked well as a way of getting re-acquainted with touring cycling.

There is, of course, much bread to slice from here to May 09 - logistics, transport, accommodation, which the size of the group makes into a more complex enterprise. More about this in due course.

Like getting my hair cut

It's one of those things - you know it's going to happen, but you are too busy, so you put it off until an event triggers the inevitable.

Let's face it: I am not very good at maintaining my bike. I clean it every now and then - far less often than I really should. I lubricate what is visible, but the invisible stuff I just daren't tamper with. And twice a year I take it to be serviced, placing it in the hands of competent bike mechanics in the hope they'll be able to undo months of neglect.

Well, next week I shall be doing just that. Yesterday as I hurried home to prepare for the weekend (it's half-term this week, we are visiting my father-in-law) I noticed my wheel has buckled a bit - it is wobbling and needs attention. Just over a year ago I was having to get the wheel trued as spokes kept breaking. A new wheel put that right and I hadn't had any trouble... until now. It cost me 50% of the original bike value (it's a cheap one).

Then, back in April this year, as I prepared for the Coast to Coast, the service had to include a complete replacement of the chain, chainrings, cassette, the works. It cost me as much as I'd paid for the original bike - and it really felt like new.

Anyway, this wednesday I shall be making my way to the shop again, getting the bike ready for the winter.

Found

Found: an ageing red bike light, conventional bulb (not LED). At junction of Trinity Way/Newbridge St/A6042, and Great Ducie St (aka A56) - just outside the old brewery that's now the biggest open-air car park in the city centre. You know, opposite the back of the MEN Arena.



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There was I, at the traffic lights, a miserable morning as miserable as they come, rain and low temperatures, fingers numb, feet soaked in shoes I must soon change - you know the score, I've moaned about it before. But the discovery of this light cheered me up a bit - something for nothing! Unless it belongs to you, reader, in which case do feel free to reclaim it (you just have to tell me what colour and shape the casing is).

A somber occasion

Another case of harassment in the city centre. This one a little bit more serious, though I escaped with no more than wounded pride. I was turning right into Shudehill when a teenager in one of those silly little bikes jumped the pedestrian lights just before the bus station, nearly made me fall and shouted some passing obscenity, to which I simply replied 'What?'.

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That was it. For one of these little thugs spoiling for a fight, that was enough pretext to chase me to the next set of traffic lights. I saw him coming but my reaction was not to run away. The pillock got to me. I got down from the bike and placed it between me and him. I wanted to avoid a fight - all the self-defense books will tell you that is the best course of action, especially with a teenager as (a) they may be carrying a knife and (b) even if you prevail, their under-age status will make things difficult for you. So, I went by the book - open hands in front, conciliatory language, stand your ground. The whole thing was over in the time it took for the lights to change to green - the teenager left muttering further abuse, and I was left, shaken - but free to continue my journey.

On the plus side, the incident put a spring in my step, so to speak - I did good time, uphill to my home. On the other hand, I am annoyed, angry, pissed off. Part of me knows I did the right thing - but the other half feels it was unfair, that a little shit got away with it, will be bragging to his lumpen, redneck friends about how he managed to 'scare' a grown man.

Either way, I will be looking over my shoulder for a while. Perhaps I should vary my route out of the city centre - or perhaps I should say 'bollocks' to it and stick to my guns? For to give in to fear is to lose twice.

A joyous occasion

A fire alarm: what a joyous occasion! At least if it happens when the skies are blue, on a crisp October morning, as the working week begins. And it's a false alarm, the only casualties the timetables dreamed up by bosses and supervisors.

I pass one such building this morning. Employees in cheap suits and Primark skirts file out, merry in conversation, some lighting up a fag as soon as they can see no roof over their heads. Some have coffee paper cups in their hands. Colleagues who were rushing in, thinking they'd be late, slow down and smile as fate, this time, plays them a good card with which to start the day.

Two pillocks in a little white car...

Not a good journey yesterday. It began sunny, then turned to heavy rain. A woman looking very distressed running after a little dog (hers, I assumed) who runs onto the road and nearly ends up under the wheels of a car - the lady shouting 'someone, catch him!' with pleading eyes. And two pillocks in a little white car (Reg. P??? TGP, white 3-dr Corsa) drive north-bound on Bury Old RdCheetham Hill Rd/A665, invading the bus lane, on a harassement spree - making obscene gestures to passers by, and nearly knocking me off the bike as they rashly overtake me in a corner (except that my 6th sense picked them up just in time).

To be continued?

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The lady vanishes...

If I leave work at 5pm, I have a 9 in 10 chance of crossing paths with 'the lady'. She must be 'from the continent' - Dutch or German, I wonder?.

She cycles a city-style, proper ladies bike - it used to be a creamy white one, now I've noticed she's upgraded to a black one (or did the other one get nicked?).

She wears no special cycling gear, no helmet. Leather shoes, cords, a quilted coat. I think when it rains she wears a raincoat of some sort. No rush, no silly manouvres around traffic. Down the road she goes, towards Town.

In only one day

In only one day, I've gone from shorts and sandals to lycra trousers and shoes. In only one day, from calm and sunny and dry to cold, wet, windy, dark and miserable. In only one day we are into winter mode (I know, it is autumn officially, but you get my meaning).

It's not that it didn't rain in summer - it did. But today the rain drops were icy, for the first time since perhaps March. The road is much noisier when it is raining hard - the cars, their tyres on puddles, the rain, the wind. The journey is much more tiring. The difficult, busy junctions much more intimidating.

Stand fast and take heart, spring will come again to rescue us all.

This great fraternity on wheels...

Yesterday I took my boy cycling to Tatton Park - just an afternoon, taking advantage of the good weather in a safe environment but not without its little challenges for a 7 year old - the odd little hill, which taught him a bit about gears, the odd 'off road' bit (hard on my hybrid, but not impossible).

A fellow cyclist was stranded on the side of the (internal) road, seemingly struggling with a flat tyre. I offered help ("Yawright, mate?"). Then joined in the struggled, trying to appear knowledgeable but realising that, three years on, I'm still a newbie. But there again, this chap had only bought his bike on Saturday and was already venturing on a 20-mile inaugural journey of self-discovery, all on his tot with a pocket puncture repair kit, mini-pump and naught else.

First I display my knowledge by making his presta valve work ("here, you unscrew the tip like so"). Then I dispell the notion he had that his bike was tube-less ("here, you pull the tube out like so"). Then I manage to identify a whooping big puncture, and repair it... and then I make my big mistake, for I fail to look for any more punctures. We just left the guy to put the tyre back together, and cycled on.

When we cycled back past the spot, 30' later, he was still there, this time assisted by seriously experienced hands who had identified more punctures (we was still polite and grateful, good chap).

Eventually we saw him cycle on his way - I hope he made the 20 miles back home, and I hope he, like I did in my time, felt the satisfaction that comes from realising you've joined a loose but real fraternity - the People of the Pedal, so to speak.

So, it's not just me saying it

The RAC also think texting while driving is (a) a bad idea; and (b) commonly done. So they've done a bit of hard science to prove the obvious:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7622592.stm

and are trying to raise awareness of the fact and its possible consequences.

Alas, I fear our weak and timid approach to enforcement will mean any change in behaviour is short lived - a bit like when they started fining drivers for talking on their mobiles.

Keeping up with the news

A chap in a black Mercedes fails to get going when the lights change. Why? He's reading the paper! I ring my little bell (yes, one of those) with increasing impatience. He returns to planet Earth - but does he put away the newspaper? Does he heck! He just drives on, hoping traffic will stop soon enough for him to resume his reading - only it doesn't, so eventually he does fling the newspaper to the side.

It is more common than you think. Reading the paper, texting, doing your eyelashes: the amount of people who think it is OK to do that while driving, albeit slowly. I notice because often these are the drivers who end up encroaching into cycle lanes, drifting into them when they realise they need to move but haven't got all of their mind on the road.

Maybe I should try it on the bike one day - spread my paper out at the traffic light, and watch their reaction.

Two mumbled words

A cyclist overtook me yesterday on Heaton Park.  As he did so, he jovially mumbled a few words, in that tone the experienced use to address fledgelings like myself.  He certainly looked a seasoned cyclist - good but not new road bike, all lycra but no helmet, saddle bag not panniers, cleat pedals, a certain tanned and weathered finish to his skin - the works.

If only I had understood what he said to me: the only two words I thought I'd picked up were 'sky' and 'back'... or did he mean 'bag'?.  Either he was critical of my posture as being too upright (I've been thinking about this, you see) and needs either a higher saddle or lower handlebars or both.  Or he meant that the red flashing little light I've fitted to the back of my rucksack points to the sky when I bend forward (I don't ride that upright after all).

Or perhaps he was waxing lyric about the weather, sharing a moment of peace with the universe in the fraught and magical journey of life?

Big and little s*^#s!

I suffer a minor 'attack' last night. Harrassment is perhaps a better word. On Fountain St. and Cannon St. - the back of the Arndale. I was waiting at the traffic light - yes, I do - and spotted this bunch of kids, must have been 11 or 12 y/o, spraying each other with this kind of spiderman's web can. Then one of them gives me the eye. I know what's coming. You know you can't touch them, they're kids.


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Luckily they had almost run out of the stuff, but I still told them off, politely and hoping the light would change soon. They threw the empty can at me.

Then, still annoyed at this, I get to the end of that road, where I turn right into Shudehill to reach Swan/Miller St and go North to Whitefield. As I often do, I positioned myself in the middle, between the lane that must bear right (so I turn on the inside of it, with the traffic) and the lane that must turn left (so they are out of my way and I of theirs). Alas, this cupcake driving a silver SAAB (T393 NEG) had other ideas, or perhaps he has no idea. I could hear him coming down the hill, chav car, engine rev'd, music blasting. He barged into the left lane hoping to make the light as it changed to green and overtake (or rather, under take) the traffic waiting to turn right.

He didn't count on pesky cyclists like moi. More rev'ing of the engine, the pillock actually tried to go further left than me and then cut across, but there just wasn't the room, so he had to get in line, at least until the next traffic light.

It's all relative

I'm going down Bury New Road, after the junction with Great Chetham St. , towards the city centre. Now that most car dealers along that stretch have closed, it really is a lovely stretch of downhill pleasure - few interruptions, especially early in the morning, good surface too.

So, I lean forward, apply more leg power to the task, breath purposefully and generally set myself up to perform and give it my best - I attain what I think is my best speed. Just then, another cyclist overtakes me, effortlessly riding past me. In a few seconds he is 100 yards ahead of me. I then try to patch the self-esteem gap ("hey, it's not as if I'm racing him!"). Yes, yes. You and I know only too well that I would have loved to catch up with him - if only I could. The best I could manage was to keep within the same traffic light bracket (now, he did jump red lights!) but after St. Anne's Sq. I really lost him - long may he continue lost.



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Squirrels and other sneaky little creatures of the road

Today, just as I was labouring to overtake a chavified cyclist, a squirrel stepped on to the road in front of me. It stopped when it sensed I was coming, then darted - not to safety, but further into my path. Don't cry, it was a near miss and neither little squirrel nor yours trully suffered any misfortune. I was left wondering how can an animal with such good reputation be in fact so dumb. Also, I marvelled at how quickly my brain had been able to assess the threat, calculate the possible damage for two or three possible courses of action, and made the optimum decision - to run over the bugger unless it moved ("grey squirrels are not scarce; I am... mmm"). It did moved, and all ends well.

Yesterday I saw another unusually dumb creature on the road. This time, it was a cyclist. Clad in bright yellow helmet (Ok, it's a free country), baggy, oversized jean shorts .... and enormous wellington boots (now, hang on a minute!). Really. I can't imagine a worst way to cycle, unless you are rushing to help people in a mildly flooded area (perhaps he was!). But what irked me the most was that this chap gladly overtook me on my left, at a busy junction - there I was, heeding every seasoned cyclist's advice about positioning yourself well away from the kerb, and this kerbil-gerbil here thought 'oh well' and slipped through!.

And to crown the evening, just then another bloke did it again. This one was dressed incongrously in posh trousers and shirt, with a laptop-type briefcase slung at the back, riding an old racer on too high a gear (ah, newbie) - but, of course, youth made up for his foolishness and he sped ahead of me all the same. Again, he did so on the inside - eventhough I spotted him and tried to close in on to the kerb to let him do it the right way, he wouldn't. Only when I opened up to stop at a traffic light, he took his chances - he was never going to stop at red - and he was off.

Moral of the story? Cyclists, we are our worst enemies, and most of us don't know it. We want to 'encourage' people to cycle more (or so say the self-proclaimed campaigners) but lack both the moral leadership (of good example) and the empathy with our 'target audience' and so achieve very little. Just like squirrels stashing nuts away.

Days of rain

This weekend I gave my bike a long-overdue wash. The chain and related stuff merited special attention, as after the last two weeks of rain they had begun to show signs of rust. I cleaned them, dried them and oiled them - but everyone tells me general purpose light oil is the wrong thing to do, so I must get myself some silicon-based lubricant, musnt' I?

In October I am planning to put it in for a service, ready for the winter. In the meantime, I've replaced batteries on my LED lights - and next time I will replace the big old lights from my father-in-law, which I like to have as back up.

I'm still wearing shorts, eventhough I've seen other cyclists have began wearing trousers. I'll try to stick to shorts until temperatures fall to single figures. We'll see.

Cycling in Oxfordshire

On bank holiday Saturday, while staying at my sister-in-law's in rural Oxfordshire, my bro-in-law, my 7-year-old son and I went for a bike ride, from Stanton Harcourt to Witney - a 10-mile return trip.

It was a sedate affair - my bro-in-law doesn't do rushed cycling, there's no pretension of performance, and once I got to Witney I realised that's very much the ethos in Oxfordshire - not only in the city among university students, but in the country among the 'common' folk. Cycling is for everyone, and in their own terms - just a way to get from A to B.

For Luke, his biggest bike ride to date, and something to build on. I was a bit miffed we didn't even break sweat.



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A worthy bandwagon

Ok, I've been following the BBC documentary on Mark Beaumont and his round-the-world Guinness-record cycle journey.

Ok, it's nothing to do with me - my paltry 140 miles doing the C2C (in 3 days!) are next to nothing compared with the 200 days this chap spent on the road doing an average of 100 miles a day, often overcoming the challenges thrown by difficult environments. But I can't help feeling inspired by his achievement. Time to start planning the next ride!

http://www.pedallingaround.com/start/

Hostiles

You know the kind - those who slow down as they overtake you, give you a dirty look and shout, or move their lips as if they were shouting. They've taken issue with something you've done - the ocassional mistake, but more frequently an offence that exists only in their imagination. Like today - I overtook a stationary bus, and although I looked and signalled this chap felt he shouldn't have had to slow down for me: why can't I just stop behind the bus until it moves on, and waste my time instead of his?

Sharing the road with cyclists? Perish the thought.

Barcelona and 'bicing'

I'm just back from two hot weeks in Barcelona - and no, I didn't do any cycling while I was there. No need, for a start - excellent public transport, mostly air-conditioned. And no opportunity. But I did look at people cycling and found that Barceloneses do cycle, a lot. In common with much of the continent, they do it without the parafernalia we take to in the UK - they do it in their swimwear and flipflops. Also, they tend to prefer the pavement to the roads, except where there are dedicated bike lanes.

Now, much is being said these days about clever bike rental schemes in cities. I've seen such things in Paris and Stockholm, but can I say that in Barcelona the bikes rented by bicing.com were trully everywhere, ridden by all sorts of people. The design of these bikes is not fancy, space-age grey steel stuff, but it does the job very well - and you know, I actually like the red n' white combination. The photo shows a bloke booking a bike while talking on the phone. The website (in Spanish and Catalan) is very good - you can for instance check live bike availability and stuff. Note that, as they explain, their target market is not the tourists, but the locals - you have to join and pay a monthly fee, which includes some 'free' time, after which you start paying as you go. It aims to complement the public transport system - or, as they put it, it is part of the system!

Oriental rickshaws

I wish I'd had my camera with me.

This morning, as I got to the junction of Portland St and Princess St, my eye was caught by two yellow rickshaws, gleaming new in the morning sun and neatly parked outside a building that had been under renovation for a while. Well, both rickshaws belong to a new boutique hotel, the Ying Sang Oriental.

The hotel isn't open yet, and I wonder what role the rickshaws will play. Will they be part of a gimmick, to cycle aimlessly around town so people hear about yet another hotel, after so many have sprung up in the last 10 years? Will they ferry guests to restaurants, shops and other attractions in the city centre? Can they carry me and my luggage to Piccadilly?

Watch, as they say, this space. Let us.

More reasons...

Work on the new Whitefield Morrison's is now very advanced - and this week the road works around it seem to have been completed. It's not too bad - on the main road, Southbound towards the city centre, a new left-turn lane has been added - that'll be something to watch out for, as the cycle lane now sits between two lanes of traffic.

Of course, the proof of the pudding will be when the shop opens and the traffic these roadworks are a preparation for reveals itself in its full glory.

Everyone who ever doubts that there is sense in cycling to work should have a look at this piece of research by fellow Bury cyclist and blogger:

http://holmesinho.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!D65843A01B2C9DB7!945.entry

and then give it a go - why not?

A motorcade

Yesterday I heard the siren of an emergency vehicle. Because I was going down a bus lane on Bury New Rd and the 'normal' lane was jammed with cars, I assumed (correctly) that the emergency people would need to go down my lane - so, I stopped and stood on the side.

It was not one vehicle, but a whole host of them: six motorbike outriders, three police Zafiras and, in the middle, a little black car with someone presumably important inside (now idea who).

The funny thing was, one of the outriders got to where I was, ahead of the others, and stopped, then stared at me. Then it clicked: my stopping and waiting, which I thought a good and sensible civic deed, in the eyes of this chap had turned me into a threat - perhaps he thought my water bottle may conceal some explosives or something? Anyway, it all lasted mere seconds, as the motorcade sped up past me and lost themselves into the distance.

'Critical' commuting...

Today is the last Friday of the month... it's 'Critical Commute' - cyclists gather at choice locations around the city at 8am, then converge on to a central spot (usually Albert Square - Peace Gardens today as there's a market on in the square) by 8.30.

I turned up fashionably late (not entirely my fault) to find that only one other fellow was there - an old hand, let us say, on these rides. So the two of us cycled into town, to meet a handful of other cyclists. I can't help thinking that the impact of the whole activity is negligible. Even the far more successful 'special' critical commute last 18 June (during Bike Week), which gathered larger numbers and had sponsors with tents offering coffee and free bike tagging and water bottles was, relatively speaking, small beer.

Now, considering how much time others spend promoting cycling and campaigning for it, I do not mind at all joining in these rides and trying to get more visibility. I do it in part to make a minute, microscopic contribution to the cause, but also for networking purposes - to get to know other cyclists, pick up a few tips, let off steam with people who understand you, etc. Today though - save for the chap from Prestwich - all the sociable bods with whom I usually end up chatting seemed to be absent, and the group seemed to be made up of the usual 'core' lot of hardened 'campaign' veterans. I'm sure it is not their intention, but I always feel a bit of an 'us and them' atmosphere when they arrive from Chorlton or other South-Manchester locations.

As for the 'campaigning' claim, I have to wonder. Surely 'campaigning' is about taking a target group of people from awareness to persuasion - and yet much of what I hear (in the GMCC discussion list, in their newsletter, at rides like today's) is hollier-than-thou preaching.

Again, I'm very conscious of the fact I do not devote the time to engaging with the campaign - and so I can hardly fault those who do, if like today I feel excluded from their number!

3 years later, part II - big tent cycling...

I joined the additional 'Critical Commute' today - additional to the ones held every last Friday of the month that is, and part of the Bike Week celebrations.

I just made it - had to drop the car for MOT and service, so had said I would not make it, but did. It was the largest 'Prestwich' group I'd ever seen - 11 souls in total. We ended up not at Albert Sq, but the Peace Gardens, where we were treated to cycling freebies, free coffee and healthy breakfast, free bike security tagging by the Police and other good stuff.

On the other hand, while this is great as positive re-inforcement for existing cyclists, I wonder if this is the best way to promote cycling among non-cyclists. Drivers and pedestrians will just have seen a bunch of cyclists in unusually large numbers, brightly dressed in the rain, dithering at cross-roads and traffic lights over whether to keep together at all costs (eg by jumping lights) or split the group and then wait for the tail to catch up. The freebies, the gathering, the camaraderie of being with other cyclists will be entirely lost on them.

3 years later...

Three years ago (14 Jun 05, to be precise) I cycled to work for the first time. As I explained in one of my early postings here, it all started with work offering a cooked breakfast to all cyclists.

There's been ups and there's been downs, but mostly I have enjoyed it thoroughly, and hope to continuing doing so for years to come.

Manchester congestion charge?

The intentions are good, but the approach is misguided. The road most affected by congestion is the M60 - but this is as much because of traffic trying to get around Manchester as it is due to traffic trying to get into it. The congestion charge as proposed will actually exacerbate this.

Also, like most British cities outside London, Mcr is too 'flat' and scattered to make public transport cost-effective and sustainable. Cities need to be more densely populated: time to give up the gardens!

As for cycling... it surely is part of the solution. Part - not the whole solution. Integrated public transport holds more of the answer - particularly when it is cycle-friendly too.

The fraternity

You see them catching up with the gossip while waiting at traffic lights. You see them labouring up the street, constantly standing on the pedals. I've even seen them having an espresso on the go, sitting outside Katsouris on a nice summer afternoon, cycling mittens and a cap still on - but no helmet, oh no, absolutely no helmet.

Sadly, I've also seen one of them laying on the road, paramedics tending to him and wheeling the stretcher out of the ambulance, as the habit of jumping red lights finally seemed to have caught up with one of their number.

You've guessed it: bicycle couriers, that's wha'm talkin'ab'ouhp.

They always look so friendly - but hey, only to each other. The rest of us, the bikommuters and hybrid lovers, the lycra-clad performance cyclists, the BMX brigade, belong to the lower rungs of the cycling world. They, in their 3/4 trousers, riding fixed-gear bikes with funny handlebars, live by a code of their own. Let's face it - they don't cycle to work, they work on the cycle! They earn their living out if cycling, and that must surely focus their minds. As one of them says in a forum, the good thing is that you get to ride your bike all day. The bad thing is ... the same thing!

On my tail

Today, for a couple of miles, I had this chap hot on my heels. Perhaps I should be grateful, as in my keenness to keep good distance my performance was above my average (I'm sure). Why, though, could he not overtake me like everyone else? I gave him plenty of chances, but he didn't take them. He followed me all the way from Cheetham Hill to Prestwich - only when we hit a bit of a slope did he overtake and raced ahead.

Genius

A particularly clumsy radiocab driver turns into Princess St and pulls up just outside the Princess Hotel, completely oblivious to this bearded, pony-tailed cyclist on a sort of racing, sort of courier bike. Cyclist barely avoids certain death. Then he bellows, from the depths of his anger and fury, what must pass as the ultimate, complete insult amongst the folk he hangs around with: "Einstein!!!".

Coast to Coast

So, we did it! 140 miles, 3 days, hard work but lots of fun. We were blessed with good weather most of the time. We did drive to Carlisle in the end - in hindsight it might have been better not to, or perhaps we should have worked out parking more carefully, as it took us a while to find some - but once we did, finding the railway station and getting a train to Whitehaven was straighforward enough. It wasn't very busy, so the guard was happy to let four bikes in, rather than the theoretical two.

Friday night tea at Whitehaven's Weatherspoon's, washed down with London Pride (3pts) - it wasn't that bad then. The B&B in Whitehaven shall remain unnamed, as I don't feel like recommending it. The landlady was friendly enough, bless her, and breakfast was good old traditional stuff - though she did make us porridge on request. It was the little things - the unwashed tea cups in the room, so-so toilets... perhaps we just didn't like Whitehaven.

At breakfast we met two other 'lads' - they were doing the C2C in two days! True enough, later on we found them at the starting point and they took our pictures - the traditional 'dipping the wheel' C2C shots. We sort of rode together for a while out of Whitehaven, then they pressed on - fitter than us by a long chalk. It was a very smooth ride until we got to a place called High Lorton. Then a long, hard climb began and that set the tone for the following day and a half - if the road goes up, it will go down, and viceversa. We reached Keswick for lunch - a couple of diabolical sandwiches from the Co-op - and then pressed on to Penrith, where we got at about 6.30pm. Along the way, I had an encounter with some llamas - these ones being taken for a walk by some people who clearly held them in high regard (while in Peru they are despised as unsociable and inedible animals).

Penrith was good. We stayed at the Fellfoot Independent Hostel - and found it very good. No TV, but a very friendly welcome and relaxed atmosphere, with people who understood what we were doing. Lavish, healthy, no-fry-ups breakfast - too much of it, perhaps? - and bags of good advice on where to eat and drink in the town, and how to get out of Penrith while avoiding the initial big climb of the standard C2C route. Recommended

Day 2, then, started with a slight detour, then we went on to Little Salkeld Watermill where we had a cup of tea, organic and all. The weather by then was very hot, and the climbs got longer and more difficult, culminating by lunch-time at the Hartside Cafe - the highest cafe in England (1903ft). Lunch at such scenic location made us think, foolishly, that the worst was behind us. In fact, hours of climbs and descends through what I by then had nicknamed 'dead rabbit country' awaited us - Garrigill, Nenthead, Allenheads, and finally, Rookhope and the eponymous Rookhope Inn. This was very good in its own style - a very traditional inn, with en-suite, good food and good beer - and even some very intimate live music by what seemed to be three generations of a family, grandad playing the concertina, mum the Bodhrán, dad the guitar and daughter guitar, ukelele and beautiful voice. Ah, and the family dog keeping us company, especially Ian who seemed to get on well with the little beast.

Sadly, because it was Monday, the inn were short of staff so we had to skip the cooked breakfast we had been looking forward to (they gave us a generous discount in compensation). We ate a couple of nutrigrain bars and set off, fully expecting the great weather of the previous two days to continue. Oh shock, oh horror. As we started climbing the Rookhope Incline (a mile-long uphill path, the list big climb of the whole C2C route) we realised it was very foggy and much cooler than previously. The incline, in those conditions, proved diabolical and we were getting very cold.

Luckily, just as our morale was about to decline, we stumbled upon the Parkhead Station. I wonder if it would have made a better stop, in hindsight, than Rookhope - if only because then one ends day 2 on a (literal) high, then day 3 is all downhill. In the event, it proved to have excellent coffee and bacon & sausage barms, a real life-saver in the circumstances, and friendly staff with Sustrans connections. They assured us the views there are great - as it was, you could only see 15 feet ahead - we just sped away towards the coast.

We decided that, for efficiency, we'd end up in Sunderland rather than Newcastle - the latter is fine if you are being picked up at the end point by the sea, but we had to take a train to Carlisle and it made more sense to reach the sea in Sunderland then train via Newcastle. In the end, we didn't quite touch the sea - yes, there was no 'wheel dipping' ceremony in the North Sea shores, but it is the getting there that counts and we were pressed for time, OK?.

Main lessons from the whole experience:

1. Train more! We did the right kind of training, but nowhere near enough of it.

2. Look after your bike - my bike behaved well but that overhaul less than 2 weeks before setting off revealed plenty of teething troubles - and could have been worse

3. Pack light. No, really: pack light! Ian and I managed to jettison fully half of all our stuff at the end of day 1, which we offloaded on a friend of Ian's who lives near Penrith - this despite the fact

I had carefully compiled a packing list that I deemed to include only 'essential' items (I've also written a 'calculator' to assess time needed for the ride, based on parameters).

People at work have asked me if I feel alright after doing this. I tell you: I feel great! and I would do it all again tomorrow if I could. It was worth every minute.

The Bill

What a weekend this bank holiday weekend was!. The main 'mission' was to help my father-in-law put together a garden shed for us - one that will allow us to store up to five full-size bikes - enough for all of us in the future, a future that has already begun as my two eldest already need bigger bikes.

Sunday I took the morning though to go with Ian to fetch his bike and have a long 'pre-C2C' ride, which we did and it was a delight, despite of the miserable day. We also used to opportunity to finalise details of the ride - we set off for Whitehaven this Friday, all being well...

... all being well. Monday started with the discovery that my little Vauxhall Corsa, the run-arounder, had been stolen from in front of our house. It ended with my youngest one being sick and poorly (she still is, and I'm looking after her today) and the car being found, with two bent doors and a smashed ignition and steering lock - damage of the sort that wouldn't matter in a new car with fully comp insurance, but when you have a 1992 Corsa, valued (optimistically) at £300 and insure for 3rd party, Fire and Theft only... so now we are waiting with bated breath to see whether the insurers will write the car off (bonkers!). A Scene of Crime Officer is taking fingerprints on the car, outside my house, as we speak.

All this has an impact on my planned C2C ride - I do hope my daughter will recover in time for me to be comfortable leaving my wife to it; and the original plan of me driving both Ian and I to Carlisle to drop the car before continuing on train to Whitehaven may have to change. It may be we do it all by train - perhaps as it should be...

Sponsor me....

Why not do something that's good for you and make into something good for others? That, I suppose, is the idea behind the 'sponsorship' culture, and I am now a part of it. For my forthcoming C2C bike ride, I have set up a page at http://www.justgiving.com/jsolis in order to support ... Supporting Kids in Peru (SKIP).

So, if you call yourself my friend or my acquantaince or have, by error or chance, stumbled upon these pages, don't just go away empty handed, go empty your pockets as well - it is for a good cause.

Arse of bicyle maintenance part II: born-again bike

I had planned it carefully, or so I thought: two weeks before the Coast to Coast, I would take my 20-month old bike to its birthplace (the Biking Factory Shop in Prestwich) to have its maker put it through a complete and thorough service - a refit, an overhaul - ready for the big weekend. I even rang the shop to check what time they opened (and noticed it wasn't the usual gentleman who answered, but thought "what the heck!").

Alas, it was not to be. Said gentleman was not in, but a kind but hapless-looking stranger who explained that the shop owner and chief bike mechanic was in hospital (nothing too serious, I hope) and no repairs or maintenance could take place for two weeks or so.

So, plan B then. I took the bike to the Bicycle Boutique - they had helped me recently with something, for free - and I've used them before. I went through my list - full service, handlebar 'grips' (dunno what they're called - the 'horns' useful for comfort in long rides), spares for the journey, etc.

The chap rang me later - the bill was a staggering £126.50!!! I said yes, after consulting with HQ. It is exactly as much as I paid for the bike, less than two years ago! But... why waste a good frame, plus don't have time to find another bike, plus loyalty, etc etc. Not the best month to suffer this waking bill, but there we go - after all, it is my daily form of transport so I must offset it against what I'd pay in, say, petrol, or tram fares.

Coast to Coast? It'd better be good...

2nd (and possibly last?) training ride before the C2C

Ian and I went for our 2nd (and possibly last?) training ride before the C2C: Unsworth-Heaton Park-Birch-Heywood-Edenfield-Bury-Unsworth. 28 miles approx. Wet day, but very good cycling: must write a bit more about it. Tried a shortcut Ian remembered from his younger days. I foolishly agreed - it got from bad to worse, a cobblestoned downhill mudtrack, knocked a few months off my aluminium-framed hybrid's lifespan.

Less than three weeks till the big weekend...

Antwerp

I was in Antwerp for the day earlier this week - family reasons, long and sad story that I shan't explain here. It was interesting to notice though both how widespread cycling is as a form of transport over there... and how different the cycling culture is to ours in the UK. I have not been to the Netherlands (really) but I imagine it must be similar over there.

First of all, in Antwerp lots of people -lots- cycle. Bikes are everywhere, either chained to lamposts or simply propped up against them. Second, the 'system' bears them in mind - roads, traffic lights, pedestrian crossings all seem to have made provisions for the folk in two wheels. Third, cycling there seems just a part of life, not the self-conscious 'cause' we seem to make it in the UK. Most bicycles are of the sort designed for comfort and ease of use, and most people ride them without any special clothing - and positively no helmets. Panniers? Yes. Gears? Yes. Lycra pants and special pedals or shoes? Nope. Rather, men in suits, lasses in high-heels, riding upright, no rush, on bikes not built for speed. I sometimes wonder if in the UK, while we are a diverse lot for sure, the 'competitive' end of the spectrum has pulled us all into a mindset where we all hope to exert ourselves, to perform to some degree, favouring an approach that regards cycling as a sport, a self-contained activity. We don't just 'cycle to work' - we use the journey to work as an opportunity to cycle - or even, to train, ie to improve our performance, perhaps with some arbitrary challenge (the C2C ride?) in mind.

Which is all very well of course - but which we should bear in mind when we moan about how marginalised cycling is in the UK, and look towards 'Europe' (esp. Northern Europe) with envy. If we want to make cycling mainstream we have to separate bicycle-based sports from cycling as a mere form of transport - something routine and boring that everybody can do.

Incidentally, I visited Stockholm last July. Thinking about it now, I get the sense - perhaps wrongly - that cycling over there is sort of half-way between the 'continental' and 'uk' styles, ie I saw as many 'urban' cyclists on 'comfort' bikes as I saw hybrid bikes and chaps in lycra pants. And the odd helmet.

Lagging behind

Last Sunday, going up to Holcombe, a considerably older chap overtook me going uphill. Yesterday, cyclist after cyclist overtook me going up towards Bury from Manchester. Today, another cyclist overtook me going downhill towards Manchester.

Do I detect a pattern here?

'Power' training

Made a dash to Holcombe Brook this morning, on my own. Felt OK - no easier than a month ago when I did it with friend Ian. Coast to Coast promises to be hard! But we are increasingly committed - have booked accommodation this week!

jorge

Easter gap

Back on the bike for 2nd consecutive day, after two very irregular weeks due to the Easter break. Worried about major road layout changes in Heaton Park opposite St Monica's High School - now it's becoming clear they are creating new lanes to direct turning traffic early on and ease congestion - car congestion, that is.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm no rabid anti-car or anti-motorist jockey per se, but I fear once more poor Johnny Cyclist has been conveniently forgotten. All shall be revealed in due course.

Thank you, Bicycle Boutique (Manchester)

This isn't an advert - just a sincere thank you to Manchester Bicycle Boutique who, this lunchtime, helped me out with one of those small but annoying problems. I had lost one of the screws supporting my rack and mudguard. They replaced it, there and then, at no cost to me!

I have used them a lot in the last year and a half - ever since I heard about them. For me, working in the city centre, their location just off Oxford Road is ideal. If you want value for money, try them. Ring first though - their opening hours are a bit peculiar - I imagine they fit their main clientele, ie students.

They have a website.... or a URL in any case - with email address in it: http://www.bicycleboutiquemcr.co.uk/

I have a phone number for them: 07985 426803

Yesterday, mate Ian and I finally begun our preparations for the Coast to Coast. That's the good news. We cycled from home to Bury, then on to Holcombe Brook (and Peel Tower) via Summerseat, and then straight back home.

I reckon we covered 18 miles in 2.30 hours including 15' rest at Peel Tower. This chap I've met the last couple of 'Critical Commute' days, who lives in Holcombe and cycles there and back every day (28 miles total) has my admiration. It is no walk in the park!

Going up hill was damned hard - the path to Peel Tower from the road, I had to do mostly on foot, as I found the wet soil and gravel just too much.

I got a few learning points out of the excursion:

• Trousers: for comfort, I am going to have to yield to lycra... men in tights, here I come...


• Top: ditto. For city cycling it is OK to wrap up warm as I do, but for the open road I need to keep light


• Sun glasses: would be nice

I'm afraid Ian has the edge in terms of performance, both up hill and down. Apart from that, we should be OK to do the Coast to Coast, if we keep training. We'll see.

I gave chase

At the junction of Trinity Way and Great Ducie St aka the A56 I stopped at the traffic lights. Another cyclist - let us say an upmarket 'chav-biker' - didn't. He narrowly squeezed past me and went on. I don't always do this, but this time it pissed me off enough to chase and overtake. On the next stretch he tried to get ahead on the inside, eventhough we could both see a parked car meant he had to go wide - so in the end he had to get in line behind me. At the next traffic light (we are now on Deansgate - where Harvey-Nichols is) I delayed him for as long as I could, but - and I always knew this would happen - in the end I had to stop for the red light, while he wouldn't. My shouting that he should stop at the red light only got a grin - sort of facial equivalent of the two fingers. Could have been worse - other chav-bikers have been known to swear at me!

To this one, and to all of them, here is my simple wish: may you all end up as chewing gum spat into the urinals of hell.

Winter defeated

Winter is beating a retreat. Yes, a month still to go until it is officially Spring, but one can see the hopeful signs in the little things: the days are longer and, even when it is frosty in the morning; it gets warmer more quickly - so that by the time I get to work I feel overdressed, the gloves too thick, my jumper one layer too many.

Also, the birds sing at dawn again - many of them, which means they are back - which means the cycle of life begins again. A cliche, I know, but a truthful one.

To get the washing done in them old days...

My father-in-law once told me how he, as a young apprentice living in Rugby, used to travel back home on weekends - to see his mother and get the washing done! - by cycle.

I know times have changed and traffic in the 1950s can't have been as bad as today's, but the 100+ mile journey he undertook from Rugby to Lincolnshire would be demanding by today's standards, let alone the days of fixed-gear bikes with no special equipment. And he did it back and forth in a weekend - set off on Friday night, back on Sunday.

Maybe I ought to try it one day.

Another fox in the night

OK, this post is not about cycling, nor is it about Manchester. Over a year ago I reported sighting of a fox cub coming out of Heaton Park. Well, tonight I am in London and had - unwisely perhaps - arranged to meet a friend in St James Park at 7pm. It was dark and foggy, especially once one left behind the main roads and their street lights. What looked like a large cat jumped down from a shed just a few metres in front of me, then proceeded to examine the contents of a rubbish bin. On closer examination, the 'cat' turned out to be an adult fox - who did not look at all concerned about my presence there (more than I can say about my feelings, finding myself in the middle of a park, alone in the foggy evening).

Eventually I found my friend and we went for a drink and a meal. Incidentally, my friend cycles from wherever he leaves in his dormitory town to the station, then arrives to Waterloo and cycles to work (near St James Park). He does so on a Brompton fold-up bike - a beautiful little thing which I would like to try some time.

The curious incident of the silly driver in the night

Last Wedsnesday night, a girl in a little car tried to do the 'overtake and turn left' maneouvre on me the other night. To give her due credit, she did take some care and perhaps this was her undoing. First thing I knew, this small car is slowly overtaking on my right. Very slowly. The driver - this young woman - looking at me with that 'shall I/shan't I?' face. In fact, she is so focused on looking at me, as the corner approaches fast and I am getting ready to brake (hope for the best, prepare for the worst) that she fails to notice that traffic in front of her has come to a complete stop... and ... crash!

Luckily, because she was going so slowly, I don't think much damage was sustained - wounded pride and angry words levelled at her, I suspect - but there were three big lads in her car so I reckon she had her 'insurance' there (and am glad it wasn't me ending stamped against her windscreen and then having to contend with her small army).

Let this be a lesson to us all...