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 it 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.