Eye of the Storm

Gale force winds today - or at least, that's what I expected. I did consider chickening out (I sort of did yesterday - had an appointment, just 'had' to drive), but I'm glad I didn't. Going into town in the morning there was a steady head wind - hard but didn't feel dangerous (it's the sudden gusts I don't like).

In the evening, I must've caught, literally, the 'eye' of the storm - it was fairly quiet almost all the way, having been windy earlier, and even windier as I write this. Thank Heavens, good luck when it comes is not to be sneezed at.

Moments of joy

In my journey back home there's three 'moments of joy' - three 'checkpoints', if you like, where I feel I've achieved something.

The first one is precisely leaving the city centre - reaching the MEN Arena or thereabouts.

The second one is leaving Cheetham Hill and heading for Heaton Park - don't get me wrong, but Cheetham Hill's shopping area, buzzing it may be, but traffic-wise it is chaotic in all sorts of ways - parking is haphazard, speed limits are ignored (if traffic is moving at all!), pedestrians are notoriously careless (my Sep 2007 fall bears witness). Then you reach the crossroads with Middleton Rd and the change is stark - the same road becomes quiet and residential.

And the third one is turning into Thatched Lane in Besses O'Th'Barn - the home run begins there, and I know I'm 10' away from home.



View Three moments of joy in a larger map

In the bleak midwinter...

Well, not quite - it's a few weeks until winter 'proper', but we've had the first frosty mornings. Two weeks ago I checked and replaced batteries as my journey back home is now done after dusk. Last week I replaced shorts with long trousers and light mittens with fleecy gloves. Other people I've seen wearing hats or skull caps, so I'm not the only wimp!

It's not bad when, like this morning, it's bright out there, and dry. Other days I've got drenched, soggy shoes (must sort out better ones) being the main problem (I think by now I've got the right all-weather gear on the other departments).

Meanwhile, the city begins its Xmas preparations - the markets are being assembled, foreign vans are unloading their goods, the lights are on or soon will be. There is also that added bustle of people spending more time shopping. It's not a good time for cycling in Manchester city centre, I tell you - it is bad enough as it is, with poorly lit streets, careless pedestrians and diabolical one-way systems. But I dread Xmas time as it exacerbates all these things.

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.