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.