New shoes

When I started cycling I was against what I saw as 'cyclist paraphernalia' - I thought I would stick to cycling in 'normal' clothes as I did when I was a kid, and dismissing cycling clothing as show-off and unnecessary.

So, it takes a big man to eat humble pie and admit not all cycling gear is unnecessary, and that there's truth in the maxim about there being no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothing.

So, like in all Western films where battle-hardened 'indians' seem to dress in a mixture of their own stuff and items taken from the enemies they've scalped, I have gradually acquired bits of kit which I've mixed in an unorthodox way. First I got 'normal'-looking cycling trousers (the baggy ones, which could pass for cargoes on a dark night). Then I replaced these with tighter lycra trousers - first big inhibition down. The I got the lycra tops, short and long sleeved so I could 'layer' in winter. And a micro-fleece for the really cold days. Then the Altura high-viz cycling jacket (what took me so long?).

And yesterday, as my multipurpose walking shoes' soles have grown as thin as rice paper, I acquired my first pair of proper cycling shoes. Normal-looking, you understand - and absolutely no intention of ever using anything other than 'normal' pedals (with half-toe clips, ok). Never...

Black Ice

I must really make this the last posting about the snow and ice season of the last four weeks. The good news is, I made it to work on my bike today. It took me twice as long though - I had to walk the first 1/2 mile, treading carefully as the pavements were treacherous - but the roads were absolutely impossible. A thin layer of ice covered them, and combined with the rain it made them into the most slippery surface I've come across yet.

Only when I got to the main road (A56) was I able to start cycling - what a delight! After so many weeks, it felt fantastic to be, to use the cliche, back on the saddle. But traffic was very heavy at first, and only the main part of the tarmac was clear - stray to the side and you'd be back on ice, so until we reached Prestwich I had to crawl with the traffic. Only as I approached Cheetham Hill did it become possible to cycle properly and warm up.

I am hoping a lot of the stuff will have melted by the time I go back home, and that the heavy rain and over-zero temperatures forecast for today and tomorrow will clear it all up so that next week I can resume normal service, get back into my cycling routine, begin looking ahead to some good rides this year.

PS: I made it back in one piece - again, main roads fine but there was still ice on the side streets, though not quite as much or as bad as in the morning. I followed the car tracks, nice and slow, especially when approaching junctions.

Ice and snow

Just a quicky - I've already mention in reply to a comment that, this week, I have not cycled. It's not the snow, it's the ice - and is not the whole journey, only the 'last' mile, the side streets where I live and which don't see a gritter unless the snow fails to melt in a week: an event so rare, I've only seen it once in ten years, last week!

The Guardian offers advice on snow cycling - cheerful and positive tips. It all sounds sensible so I'm doing the lazy blogger thing of agreeing with them and providing a link. They don't like ice either - I've tried falling on it while on my bike, and it's not nice. The trouble in the UK is that ice does not get cleared quickly enough - from neither pavements nor roads. And it never will be, unless snow becomes a regular feature of winter - which in most of the country, it won't.

Snow

Yes, snow fell overnight and made the journey in the morning "interesting". It's fine on the main roads, generally - although I noticed many stretches where the cycle path had been carefully avoided by the gritters - so on to the main carriageway, positioning and good observation the name of the game.

The main problem is the mile between home and the main road - here the gritters didn't make it, so the snow stays, freezes up and becomes slippy. I go slow, on a low gear. If going downhill, I walk - bikes are not good at stopping on ice. The late Sheldon Brown is spot on in his advice: front brake is best on dry surfaces, but on slippery ones you have to use the rear one. Since this one takes longer to stop the bike anyway (ie even on dry surfaces), the conclusion I reach is that you have to really slow down on ice. Really. Call me Sherlock.

Jack Frost

What a beautiful morning the last couple have been. Cold, but dry - no ice on the roads, and very little wind. Less and less traffic too, as we near Xmas. No complaints. May it long continue!

Danger! Risk! Menace!

Tell you what is dangerous these days: entrust journalists with the results of scientific research, especially if it involves emotive but little understood subjects - like climate change and, er, cycling...

Let's start from the end. I'm watching the morning news as I get ready and - oops! - the BBC is covering cycling! Surely, surely, the BBC who devote so much time and attention to climate change, subtly supporting those who care about it, will say nice things about cycling? But alas, no: they've picked up on 'scientific research' that 'proves' that cycling is more dangerous than driving.

For the sake of impartiality they interview a few random cyclists - we don't get to hear the question put to them, but the consensus amongst them seems to be - as edited - "yeah, cycling is pretty scary, what with all them cars and traffic, like". As the BBC are not just impartial but a saintly thorough lot, they need a quote from someone 'official' - cue a Sustrans volunteer, who tries to explain that the more cyclists there are the safer it is. This is true, and is what for instance CTC argue tirelessly - but he forgets to say (or the BBC remembers to edit out) that for all the perceived risk of cycling, there are huge benefits etc etc.

When the recorded report ends, it's back to studios and we have the live presenters 'completing' the picture by reading viewers emails - the usual rants about how cyclists are a damned race of road hooligans, in stark contrasts with holy drivers who never ever break the speed limit or push their way through an amber/red light. Thank you, Auntie Beeb: you've just caused a few people to abandon cycling, increasing their cardiac risk and impoverishing their lives.

The Guardian picked up the story - they are a little bit more balanced: at least their headline makes it clear where they stand, ie if cycling is more dangerous than driving then it needs to be made easier and safer for the benefit of everyone. Commendable, innit?

But hang on a minute. It is clear, when you read the Guardian article, that the research quoted seems to lump pedestrians and cyclists together in most instances. They are looking at what kind of cases arrived at A&E departments in UK hospitals.... between 1999 and 2004 (so, not exactly current,is it?). I've only had access to the abstract (I wonder if the BBC journalist who started this read much more) and in it the objective of the research is stated as "To report on seasonal variation in hospital admissions for traffic injuries to car and truck occupants, motorcyclists, cyclists, and pedestrians". It concludes that, while for car occupants seasonal variations are not significant, cyclists appear to have a harder time in winter. In passing the abstract remarks that "From April to September, there were more admissions for pedestrians and cyclists in England (44 875 in the six years of the study) than for car occupants (34 582)".

The italics are mine. In short, this is a non-story - and I can see someone, somewhere, being rattled by it, staying off their bikes and missing out on the benefits to their health, just because some stupid BBC journo (but I repeat myself) spotted a news angle in a piece of science they neither understood nor cared about. All paid by the TV licence-fee payers - us, ze pipol o'brittn.

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.