Genius

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

Coast to Coast

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Main lessons from the whole experience:

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

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

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

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

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

The Bill

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

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

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

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

Sponsor me....

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

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

Arse of bicyle maintenance part II: born-again bike

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Less than three weeks till the big weekend...

Antwerp

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

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

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

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

Lagging behind

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

Do I detect a pattern here?

'Power' training

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

jorge

Easter gap

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

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

Thank you, Bicycle Boutique (Manchester)

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

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

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

I have a phone number for them: 07985 426803

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

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

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

I got a few learning points out of the excursion:

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


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


• Sun glasses: would be nice

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

I gave chase

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

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

Winter defeated

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe I ought to try it one day.

Another fox in the night

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

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

The curious incident of the silly driver in the night

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

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

Let this be a lesson to us all...

Sheldon Brown, for ever more

It isn't often that you become a regular visitor to someone else's web pages, and get to feel that you know the person - that you have a connection, unilateral and unintended perhaps. So it is with real sadness that I hear Sheldon Brown, true cyclists' guru, source of useful advice on all things cycling and writer of warm and life-affirming web postings has passed away.

I can't hope to ever become the source of vast knowledge so aptly and willingly communicated to novices like myself, but I reckon, twenty years from now, if I am cycling as I hope, I will remember Sheldon Brown's website and the inspiration I drew from it in these initial years.

Stanway Rd

Stanway Rd, in Whitefield (or is it Besses O'Th'Barn?) is a special place in my getting-back-home routine. It marks the start of the 'home run' - I've left all main roads behind, there are no more traffic lights and I know that, all being well, I'm 7' away from my house.

It is also a bit of an unusual road. Most of it belongs squarely to the architectural school of standard 20th century red-brick British Conformism, mostly in the shape of semi-detached, 2 and 1/2 bedroom houses - and very nice some of them are too. But there is a whole row of unusual homes, perhaps built in the late 80s or early 90s, which I'd describe as postmodern - they play with some elements of the traditional home, and so there is brick and roof tiles - trendy and almost green, but tiles nonetheless. And yet they try so hard to be innovative - the sleeping quarters apparently are on the ground floor, the living quarters apparently upstairs. The end of the row is a house where they've extended the ground floor and built a conservatory on top, in effect extending the (1st floor) living room and creating a sort of mini-mansion. Whether this kind of design works is another matter. Would I want to have to lug all food shopping up a flight of stairs just so as to feel 'different'? Perhaps not - so, conformism has its good side too?

The road is shaped like a banana, curved gently. I tend to coast on fifth gear until I reach the bend, then it flattens and I have to start pedalling again. When I reach the end I have to be careful - Hazel Rd does get busy some evenings, and it can be difficult to stop properly to avoid it!.

Stanway Rd has something civilised and genteel about it - that's just as well, for as I turn onto Hazel Rd and Ribble Drive the landscape changes a bit - welcome to the 'estate' and chav territory, complete with 1960s pub-cum-'tapas bar' (Enrique's).

O clouds, unfold!

It makes such a difference. The week before last I managed to do all five days on my bike. Last week, by contrast, I only managed Monday and Friday. Stop for a few days and it all has to start again - the subtle slopes and climbs demand a very conscious effort. Do five days in a row and on the last day you'll be eating miles, taking little hills on your stride.

At least the days are growing longer. I look forward to tomorrow, Monday - only one expected disruption on Thursday, otherwise a full week on the saddle. And must start training for my planned Coast to Coast. Trying longer rides, building up distance until I can manage 30 miles in one effort.