Out with the Old, Redux

September 26, 2017

As you may have guessed from the sparser-than-usual blog posts, I’ve been busy in recent weeks. In fact, my busyness has gone from being acute to becoming chronic: it seems as if for months now, I’ve been thinking that I just have to get through this week and then I will have time to do all the other things I need/like/want to do, only for the next week to arrive with fresh urgent priorities, and the sunlit uplands of the time when I will be able to garden again, or knit something, or even read more than the first few pages of the paper recedes further into that mythical future.

I’m not complaining (okay, I am complaining, but only a bit) – it’s all useful stuff, whether in terms of earning money, or cycle campaigning, and it’s not as if I’ve been too busy to ride my bike (it does help when it’s your main means of transport) – but it does mean that the ‘important but not urgent’ stuff gets endlessly postponed. And that includes not just the enjoyable things that recharge my batteries, like the garden, but also the really really important things, like writing, that were supposed to be why we downshifted (insert hollow laughter here) and moved to the country to enjoy the slower pace of life.

blog roundup

So something had to give, and that something has been the Cycling Embassy blog roundup. This, for those of you who don’t read it religiously every week, has gradually become a bit of a monster. It was started as a way of keeping in touch with what the various campaigning cycle bloggers were writing about, back when that seemed to be where it was at with cycle campaigning. At the time, there was still a big argument going on about whether we should even be asking for Dutch-style infrastructure, with plenty of mainstream campaigner still thinking that as long as cyclists just put on their big girl or boy pants, and drivers learned to behave, then we could all merrily take the lane and cycle everywhere as if it were still 1934 and there were about three motorcars in the whole country. A few die hards excepted, that battle seems to have been fought and won. Now the battle is actually getting the Dutch-style infrastructure and that takes more than blogging, frankly, as you’ll have probably gathered from my own activities.

So I have decided that I can no longer justify spending my Sunday evenings and Monday mornings scanning, choosing, summarising, categorising and linking together in something resembling prose up to a hundred different blog posts (from a total of over 600 a week). Instead, I will put some of that time towards chipping away at the ever-growing list of ‘things I really ought to do once things calm down and I have time to think about it’, preferably before they too become urgent or simply missed opportunities that might actually have made a difference.

I will also miss it. I have learned a lot from bike bloggers over the years, from how good cycling infrastructure works to brilliant campaigning ideas, and I’ve had my own prejudices and assumptions challenged. It’s also been my calling card with other campaigners in the UK and beyond, who have enjoyed reading the round up, or at least enjoyed the effect on their stats when they were included in it. But it is no longer worth eight hours a week of my time, in spite of all the lovely tweets from readers about how much they’ve enjoyed and valued it. Perhaps someone else will take up the baton – or perhaps we’ll find another, even more useful and less onerous way of keeping track of what’s going on.

Whatever it is, it won’t be me doing it.

Well, probably not, anyway.

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Never on a Sunday

September 12, 2017

I have exciting plans for Friday, but they are of the ‘better to ask forgiveness than permission’ kind, so I shall refrain from posting them here just now, although I think it’s unlikely that the powers that be are monitoring me that closely.* However I do have other exciting plans for the weekend because it is the Cycling Embassy AGM this weekend, which is venturing north of the border for the first time ever, to Glasgow.

This means a full on weekend of bike riding, kerb measuring, campaigning chat, pub going and general gadding about, and a chance for two of my cycling worlds to intersect, as up to now the Scottish cycle campaigning scene has been a bit divorced from what’s going on down south.

It also means that I don’t have to lug my Brompton half way across the country to take part, as it’s just one train up to Glasgow from Bigtown and it takes loads of bikes so I can bring the big bike. Frustratingly, that doesn’t make it any easier to get home than if we were in Cambridge, Leicester, Brighton or any of the other places where we’ve had our AGMs over the years. Because it is decreed that no train shall move on our line on Sunday until After Kirk, and even then extremely reluctantly, so I shall have to cut the festivities short in order to get home at all …

* other than Moo-I-5, who spent most of the weekend staring at our pile of woodchips in case it turned out to be edible and magically became available


Cambridge: Cycling at Scale

August 1, 2016

We interrupt this moving tale with a brief reprise of my trip to Cambridge for the Cycling Embassy AGM because if I don’t write it up now, I never will, and that would be a terrible tragedy.*

Cambridge is interesting for cycling not so much because it’s got brilliant infrastructure (it hasn’t compared to – to pluck an example out of the air at random – almost anywhere in the Netherlands, although it’s got lots of things that are way better than anything else in the UK) but because it’s gives a glimpse of what cycling in the UK might look like if we actually started to move towards mass cycling in this country.

football team

Hard to see but that’s a team’s worth of bikes piled up behind the goal

Your typical Cambridge cyclist is a gent of advanced years in a linen suit and bicycle clips, his panama hat replaced by a bicycle helmet at a jaunty angle. Or it’s a young woman on a swooping-framed bike with a wicker basket on the front. Or then again, it may be a small girl in a sparkly frock on a pink bike following her mum to the park. Or a gang of teens out Pokemon hunting. Or an entire football team, if the pile of bikes behind the goal is anything to go by. It’s genuinely everyone and there are bikes – and bike parking – everywhere.

narrow_streets

Plenty of room – as long as everyone cycles

It makes sense to cycle, frankly. Cambridge is tiny, its centre is fairly cramped with a narrow grid of streets where cars are actively discouraged from driving through while people on bikes can (mostly) just go where they please, as long as they can remember the way (as our host for the weekend remarked on giving us directions to the shops, ‘first left, first right, first left, then first right’ is pretty much how all directions in Cambridge go).

guided busway

For lo! I saw a city upon a hill …

Cambridge is also under construction – the university and associated high-tech industries are building like mad and they and the city seem to understand that the only way to expand and still maintain some quality of life will be to encourage people to use bikes and public transport rather than the car. There are still the usual UK-issue dreadful fast roads and roundabouts where it’s a choice between taking your life in your hands among the traffic or pressing about 17 buttons for a green man to get you safely across. But there is also the guided busway, an old railway line converted for fast buses, with a maintenance track alongside that doubles as a wonderful smooth wide cycle path, albeit also shared with pedestrians, this is the UK after all. In fact there are lots of shared-use pavements and paths, most of which are pretty dubious, as well as lots of random bollards and chicanes to slow cyclists down – I couldn’t help but think that your typical Cambridge cycling accident must consist of a drunk cyclist hitting an unlit bollard (or possibly an unwary pedestrian), but to be fair, the council have also included some for cars as well, which is at least even handed.

bollardry

One in the eye for all those bike bloggers who complain that they’d never build roads the way they build cycle paths

And it turns out that when more than half of your electorate – or customers, or employees – cycle regularly, then the powers that be can actually make sensible decisions about cycling without having to be nagged into it. Like supermarket bike parking that consists of something other than three Sheffield stands installed so close to a wall that you can’t lock your bike to them (I wish I’d taken a photograph of the massive covered bike park outside the Sainsbury’s on the edge of town but we were cycling back from the pub and I was frightened if I lost sight of our hosts who were guiding us back, I’d never find them again, as I’m not very good with directions that go ‘turn left, then right, then left, then right’ after about the third turn …).

bike parking

Covered university bike parking

Or if there’s no room for both bike lanes and cars on a road – just keep the bike lanes, and leave out the cars

no room

It’s even got a covered bridge, so you don’t have to get wet in the rain, at least for some part of your journey.

covered cycle bridge

Oh, and side by side cycling. At last, acknowledgement that cycling two abreast isn’t just legal, it’s actually the best part.

side by side cycling

This is not a mistaken sign for a two way bike lane. There’s another one on the other side going the other way

In short, Cambridge is an example of what can happen if a UK city actually starts catering for cyclists’ actual needs – even if it’s a bit of a bodge or a bit grudging in places. As opposed to the Bigtown approach of ignoring cycling altogether unless someone makes a huge fuss, and then creating something that was apparently designed by someone who had never seen a bike but had read about them once in a magazine.

orange warning lights notice

Note not only the over elaborate need for orange warning lights in the first place – but the wonderfully pedantic grammar of this sign

It is also a cautionary example of what happens when you let dons write warning signs, but that’s a matter for another day.

* OK, maybe not. Others have done it better anyway


Flight of the Bromptons

June 9, 2014

I’ve been down to Brighton this weekend for the Cycling Embassy AGM which, as well as many other things, functions as a sort of annual Brompton owners’ gadding about society.*

Bromptons at the station

Others will write in more detail about the events of the weekend, but suffice it say that the sun always shines on the Cycling Embassy AGM, except when we’re foolish enough to hold it in Manchester, and even though the BBC Terror Centre was predicting that the entire country would be washed away in apocalyptic floods on Saturday, by the time the participants had assembled at Brighton station, the rain had gone and the sun was about to come out for what was to prove a glorious weekend.

Bromptons at the pub

Naturally, we spent most of it in various meeting rooms but there was plenty of time for the pub too and I have to say that all the best meetings end with the die-hard participants (and their Bromptons) eating fish and chips on the beach as the sun slowly sinks into the west.

Bromptons on the beach

Today, all I had to do was get myself and the Brompton home, which meant transferring between Victoria and Euston. I considered taking the tube, but somehow, however daunting London traffic can be, it’s never quite as daunting as lugging the Brompton down the endless corridors that make up the average underground station.

I’ll draw a veil over the full horrors of the cross-London journey: put it this way, it did more in 30 minutes to remind me why the Embassy needs to exist, than the whole of the preceeding weekend. But it did have one high spot as I got to pedal down the length of the Mall on my very British bike, inadvertently photobombing tourists’ snapshots of Buckingham Palace. Indeed, with the Brompton rapidly becoming the London bike of choice, perhaps I was actually providing a spot of authentic local colour. How long before someone on a Brompton – ideally a smart city gent – becomes as much an icon of early 21st century London as a punk in a phone box was in the eighties?

beware of cyclists

* This is unfair. We mainly go on very serious ‘infrastructure safaris’ where we look in great detail at bollards** and only incidentally have informal rolling Brompton races down a particularly tempting ramp.

** indeed we were so busy looking at bollards that we completely overran and ended up missing the World Naked Bike ride***

*** insert your own joke here, I’ve left you plenty to work with


I’m not Here

June 6, 2014

I’m here, in the Guardian again, wading into the murky world of cycling and gender politics.

I’m also in Brighton (well, Hove, actually) for this. And possibly a side visit to this. I’ll be keeping my clothes on though.

 

peace statue

Brighton to the left, Hove to the right

In other news, I successfully performed percussive maintenance on my Brompton, but that’s a story for another day


Bisy Backson

May 16, 2014

So apart from getting up at oh god hundred hours to attend the Newcastle bigtoonride tomorrow, and organising a popup bookshop next weekend, and my Anniversaire ride the weekend after that for which there is much baking still to be done, and then going down to Brighton for the Cycling Embassy AGM the weekend after that (the sun always shines on the Cycling Embassy AGM), oh and organising the Women’s Cycle Forum (although I say organising, can I heartily recommend Suzanne Forup for all your organising things needs as she seems to have done 90% of the work including securing all the funding, while I’ve just stood around making daft suggestions) the weekend after that – and a small jaunt to the Netherlands at the end of June, I shall mostly be relaxing over the next few weeks. Not. Still, through some slight oversight I do seem to have left one weekend unorganised between now and July … let’s see how long that lasts, shall we?


See you, Jimmy

February 20, 2012

It was an exciting weekend for my bike as it returned to its ancestral home, Glasgow, albeit just for one day. The occasion was the Cycling Embassy’s infrastructure tour, which I won’t bore you with here (I’ll bore you with it elsewhere, don’t worry). Getting there on the train means a 40 minute ride to the station for the once-every-three hours, two-hour long chuffer service (it’s all of 75-odd miles, but never mind that – look at the lovely scenery!). Thus my Saturday started with me waking in the dark and listening to the rain splattering energetically against the window and wondering why I hadn’t taken up knitting advocacy or something equally indoorsy.

Fortunately, a glitch in the Weather Gods’ system meant I managed to ride to the station during the 40 minute break in the rain and was safely under the canopy discovering I’d forgotten my bike lock when the heavens opened again. And amazingly, despite a forecast bordering on the apocalyptic, another 15 or so hardy souls turned up for the event and even though we did get snowed on a little and were visited by the puncture fairy and I discovered that my back brake wasn’t working (I don’t really need to stop the bike much around here, so it doesn’t really arise. Oops), it was an interesting (adjusted for being mainly about cycle infrastructure) day out all round.

Heading back, after an after tour tour of the pubs of Glasgow looking for one that wasn’t absolutely rammed on a Saturday night – a mission akin to trying to find a decent piece of cycling provision in the average UK city – I got on a train that turned out to be full of Rangers fans (do they know that peace has more or less broken out in Northern Ireland, btw? Do you think maybe someone should tell them?) and reached Bigtown at 9pm ready for the 8 miles back – the first time I got to try out my dynamo lighting for real.

So what’s the verdict? Well the first thing is that, if anyone tells you they ‘hardly feel’ the effect of a dynamo on a bike, then they’re either lying or have legs of steel. The second is that it lights up the road like nobody’s business, possibly even better than the light I borrowed last year. The third is that a pint of Newcastle Brown Ale and a bag of chips are not, perhaps, the ideal pre-ride meal for someone who wants to test out their dynamo for the first time, although I’m not sure exactly would have been – maybe spinach?

I woke up on Sunday morning with leaden legs, feeling absolutely shattered. And then the sun came out and as we were out of milk, we did the run again in the afternoon down to the local garage and I remembered that the road back from Bigtown always feels like extra hard work, seeing as it’s uphill and into a headwind.

I reckon on balance, the dynamo adds about an extra 10 mph to the wind in your face, although it does seem to feel like harder work the slower you go; struggling up the final bit of hill at the end of a long ride was just cruel. On the plus side, the way it lights up the road means you can get up to speed on the downhill bits and take a run at the next climb. For people whose brakes have gone a bit kaput, it’s reassuring to know you’ll be able to see what’s up ahead in good time. If I were commuting home in the dark five days a week I’d probably lay out the cash to get a rechargeable system, just because I think it would be pretty wearing every day and I don’t really want to end up with the legs of Chris Hoy. But for the use I want to put it to – the occasional trip into town of an evening, and back and forth to the village, it will be fine. More than fine, in fact, if the night is as black and as starry and sparkly as Saturday was.

And now, I think it might be time to get that bike down to the bike shop for a bit of love and attention to those brakes…