Year of the ninja dog

I’m sat on the train from Cardiff to Birmingham, winging my way to our factory unit. Actually ‘winging’ doesn’t really describe this particular journey. ‘Sauntering’, perhaps. ‘Ambling’, maybe, but ‘winging?’. No. The cross country service meanders from South Wales, heads up the Severn estuary, pootling through Gloucestershire and Worcestershire before arriving in England’s second city. It’s perfect. I can catch up on e-mails, listen to music (Robert Plant is adding North African melancholy) and update the blog.

I just did a quick check on the web and discovered it’s the Year of the Dragon. For a Welshman nervously heading off to watch rugby at Twickenham tomorrow, I’m hoping that bodes well. But that’s by the by. After recent experiences on the Taff trail, I’m not convinced by these Year of the Dragon claims. For I know different. It’s actually year of the Ninja dog. Darkened menaces, blackened and masked, creeping insidiously through the undergrowth before launching themselves, paws outstretched toward the unsuspecting (but well lit) cyclist.

Now I’m not the moaning type (dog owners can relax), but after spotting a delightful poster by Kiputniq (below and produced for exactly the type of situation I’m about to describe), I thought I’d bring it up.

You may recall some recent press hyperbole about the Taff trail. Apparently cyclists truly leather it through Cardiff parkland and the commute becomes the crit. As a consequence the Taff Trail code of conduct was drawn up. Dog walkers, pedestrians, cyclists and runners engaged in the Mexican standoff. Signs were put up. Cycle slowly! Dogs on lead! No smiling every second Tuesday! Representatives spoke in the media; ‘ban cycles through the park’, ‘clap ‘em in irons’, ‘we’re hard done by’ etc. etc. Frankly, all a little over the top, but if you get enough people vying for the same resource, the teddy soon gets lobbed out of the pram.

Taff trail 'discussions' (Image courtesy of devious theatre and totally unrelated to the Taff Trail)

Anyway……the Taff Trail code of conduct (in itself not a bad idea and a reasonable diplomatic solution) does ask that dogs are kept on a lead. Pretty sensible, given that there are people balancing on two wheels and dogs tend to be a little random in their actions. Yet when I commute to work each day, hardly any dogs are kept on a lead. No biggie, I’m generally not travelling quick enough for it to be a problem and I understand that the owners want to give their dogs a bit of a run out. But when the lights go out and dusk descends on a busy commuting route, leaving your dog off the lead is BLOODY BARMY. I’m convinced that dog owners don’t really want to see their beloved pet stuck underneath my fork crown any more than I want to be propelled into the bushes. So far, I’ve bitten my tongue. So much so, that my tongue is now a squishy useless mass. However I think I may take the Kaputniq’s advice, laminate and post the image above at pertinent points and the next time it happens, employ my finest rictus grin and politely suggest a more sensible course of action.

Incidentally, the view out of my train window is particularly splendid today. Spring is emerging from gloomy skies to illuminate the Severn Estuary. Zero 7 is now playing through my headphones. Not a traffic jam in sight.

Rush hour on the Severn Estuary

 

‘Cities fit for cycling’ – appropriate art

'Les Coreurs' by Guillherme Henrique

Given the ride taking place later today (details on the earlier blog post), when I spotted this excellent piece of cycle art by Guilherme Henrique, I couldn’t resist popping it on the site. For contact details and examples of Guilherme’s work, try his website here. Entitled ‘Les Coreurs’, the illustration  just seems…..well…..appropriate.

As an aside, Roxanna’s lock has been sent out in the post today.  It should help keep that lovely looking bike safe.

 

Highlight the dangers, offer the solutions.

Urgently needed - less of these sights.....

Disappointingly, there is no way that I’ll now make the 14.55 train from Cardiff to Paddington today. So I’ll have to do my bit via the medium that is available to me; the internet.If you’re in the London area today and equipped with two wheels and enough time on your hands, head over to the Mall at 18.15 (18.30 start) for a ride that will aim to raise awareness of road danger and ask MPs to make the success of continental-standard infrastructure a key part of their Commons debate on cycling the following day.

Details of the ride (courtesy of The London Cycling Campaign) are as follows:

The ride

The ride is being organised and marshalled by iBikeLondon, Cyclists in the City and the London Cycling Campaign. It will be sensibly marshalled and respectful to other road users. Expect it to last around 45 minutes.

The route

The Mall (Duke of York steps) - Horseguards Parade - Parliament Square - Lambeth Bridge - Westminster Bridge – Parliament Square – Whitehall – Trafalgar Square – Admiralty Arch – The Mall.

 

So why is this important? If you pedal two wheels, every time you share the road, you share it with hurtling metal boxes capable of inflicting massive injury or worse. There is little protection afforded to cyclists, despite reducing inner city traffic chaos, contributing significantly to carbon emission reductions, exacting few demands on road surfaces, generating little noise pollution and making urban spaces more people centric.

...and more of these. Getting politicians to buy into this vision (courtesy of the London Cycling Campaign) could have far reaching implications.

Incidentally for the irate motorists out there who struggle to empathise, I also drive a hurtling metal box. Except I try not to make it hurtle and I only use it when I really need to. 95% of the time my metal box keeps a patch of tarmac dry outside my house. Why? Because it’s cheaper, quicker, healthier and more sensible to cycle. Oh and before the weather thing is laid on me, so far at least, I’ve discovered that I don’t erode in the rain, melt in the sun or solidify in the cold (and quite often  it’s dry). Sermon over.

Tonight’s ride is jointly organised by the London Cycling Campaign, ibikeLondon and Cyclists in the City. It will benefit all people who cycle on UK roads.

 

Don’t you love a happy ending?

Here’s a very sorry tale, with a very happy ending (all too rare in the cycling world). Roxanna Tustain is a young lady from Bristol who spent several months collecting together enough cash to build her own bike. She found an ideal vintage road frame, added some  ”No Logo” Wheels, built them up with red hubs, white spokes, gleaming yellow rims and matching yellow tyres. The wheels were driven by a yellow chain. White riser bars were added and the whole ensemble topped off with a white saddle. it looked sharper than a lemon.

She got to ride it once. Then somebody knicked it.

Roxanna discovered that her bike was missing and the cable lock cut and discarded from outside Kebele Cafe in Easton, Bristol sometime between 1030-1445 Friday 3rd February.

Roxanna posted up a plea for its return on the excellent Bristolian website, ‘Stolen Bristol Bikes’ :
“It’s my first ever build and the first bike I’ve ever owned so it has huge sentimental value to me. I spent months saving for all the parts and learning how to put it together. I got to ride it once, which was the morning before it was robbed. I have had information to say that it may have been spotted being pushed up Cheltenham Road on Friday evening, by two men of medium height and build (not very specific, I know). Please help me find my beautiful bike.”

You couldn’t help feeling for her. It’s a single speed (my Achilles heel – though technically, it looks like a fixie), a lovely looking bike and a truly fantastic job for somebody entirely new to the art of bike building. But…….wait for it……….this story has a happy ending. Amazingly, Roxanna got her bike back.

Whether it was the unique look of the bike, slick detective work at the hands of the Bristol cycling community, a dash of luck or a combination of all three, the bike is now safely back in Roxanna’s hands. We do like a happy ending. It just goes to show the power of the web and spreading the word. To try and help prevent a repeat, we’ll be giving Roxanna a Squire Urban Paramount ‘D’ lock (a bloody ugly lock, but very beefy). It just goes to show that if you’re unforunate enough to have your bike knicked, definitely don’t give up on it. Get posting on the web. Get the word out there. Wrestle back the iniatitive. You may just come up trumps.

We spotted this story on the excellent website ‘Stolen Bristol Bikes’. Click on the link to see if you can help some very unlucky cyclists and lend them your support (good luck with the site). If you’re Bristol based and visiting Bespoked Bristol (23rd March – 25th March at Bristol Temple Meads Passenger shed), pop along to say hello.

 

Be careful what you wish for.

'Here we go again'. Matt Morris (of 'Might Contain Nuts'), smirks knowingly.

The old adage, ‘be careful what you wish for’ rang true yesterday. As I mentioned in the post below, Matt and I were headed for a good old fashioned cross bike blast over Machen Mountain. However, it was not to be. The cycling gods were not smiling on us yesterday. They were grinning impishly and sending thunderbolts of bad luck pinging our way. Within minutes of leaving the house, Matt had a puncture. Nothing major,  just a little taster of things to come.

After about an hour of riding, we were plugging away through thick gloopy mud. The type of stuff that fits every crevice in the tyre tread, denying purchase and forcing the rider to grind ugly. In the blink of an eye, I rode over a stick, flicking it into the back wheel and snapping the rear derailleur off. ‘Drat’, I said, or words to that effect.

A bit of thinking on our feet and we’d removed the rear gear cable, shortened the chain and repositioned it on the inner front chain-ring and in the middle of the rear cassette . As I said, be careful what you wish for; for now I had a single speed cross bike, all blinged out in racing garb.

Almost a single speed. One cannibalised crosser with a sorry looking derailleur on the deck

Almost.

Riding back, the chain kept skipping up the rear cassette and tightening to the point where the pedals would barely turn. Periodically stopping and releasing the back wheel allowed the chain to be repositioned, but not for long. I ran up slopes with the bike on my shoulder and ground out the cadence on the flat. This exacted a great toll on the bike. At some point, two of the chain bolts ring bolts decided to abandon ship, pinging off in search of easier rides. The inner chain-ring warped with the pressure and by the time we were about 3 miles from home, the bike was totally  unrideable. Matt resorted to pushing me down the road while I dabbed the occasional leg and used the bike like a scooter. That’s what mates are for eh? (I can highly recommend it actually, much easier than cycling home). An eventful ride, which Matt felt was ‘the norm’ when riding with me. My reputation is clearly starting to suffer.

I think the moral of the story is – DON’T TRUST AN INNOCENT LOOKING STICK.

Despite all the mechanical grief, I still thoroughly enjoyed the ride; no harm done, really good riding prior to the breakages and a nice bit of self-sufficiency to get us home. All this wonderfully topped off by a good cooked meal and massive mugs of coffee. Can’t say I’m looking forward to the repair bill though. I wonder if the shop will accept  toast-racks in lieu of cash?

"Odoni express? That'll do nicely sir". A mini-toastrack in lieu of cash. Fingers crossed.

Thanks to Mrs N for supplying a lovely cooked meal and large mugs of coffee. Thanks to Matt Morris for the big push on the way home. Note to self: Carry a spare derailleur hanger.

 

Up, up and away in my beautiful balloon

'Cycling tour' by Nick Stevens

I love this print. It has a daydream quality. I’d like to be in either situation; zipping along on my road bike in echelon, or gazing down from a drifting balloon. I had a hot air balloon flight once. Several weeks of waiting for the right conditions (courtesy of the flaky British summer), but when they arrived……boy oh boy.…….what a sensation. It feels like falling upwards, followed by ‘stationary’ travel (the balloon doesn’t seem to move as the world revolves beneath you). Raglan castle floated under us. Monmouthshire drifted along.

Tomorrow its cross bikes at dawn, with Matt and co. of Might Contain Nuts, descending for a whistletop tour of Machen mountain. It’ll be a good old grind, man and bike pitted against mountain and moor. For the moment though, I’m quite happy sitting here with a cup of tea contemplating sunnier days, drifting clouds and balloons populating the skies.

Ok. Enough of that now. The 3 peaks is a mere 7 months away. Time for some preparatory exercise

You can thank Nick Stevens for the image. Nick’s work is available via the Crayonfire shop. Wherever you find your riding or whimsy this weekend, have fun.

 

Two wheels forward, one step back.

The map tells you everything you need to know. Play 'spot the obvious route choice' by clicking on the image for a better look.

Cycling home this week, I was pleased to note that Cardiff council had decided to maintain the ‘Bute Park trial’, a decision to leave Bute Park open to cyclists until 7pm during the winter gloom. A quick squint at the image left – provided by Cardiff Council on the gates of the park – shows why this is so important. When the park is closed, cyclists heading home across the city have to contend with two traffic choked  ‘A’ roads, flirting with disaster in a manner akin to playing the role of the frog in the classic ‘80s game ‘Frogger’. So bravo Cardiff council for applying some common sense. Well done you. A well deserved pat on the back.

….But…. hang on….what are these bloody leaflets being handed out to cyclists in the centre of the city? Bizarrely, Cardiff Council and South Wales Police have launched an orchestrated campaign to crackdown on cyclists (both innocent and guilty) who ‘dangerously’ cross pedestrianised Queen St, jump red lights and otherwise make a nuisance of themselves (details here). PCs and PCSOs Issue on the spot fines and chasing cyclists down, Baywatch style (slow mo determined running to wrestle perp to the floor; only with more clothes on) before slapping them in irons. Ok, rules are rules. That much is clear. Despite a successful trial to use Queen st before 10am and after 4pm, we’re not currently allowed to cycle despite the lack of cycle provision to safely cross the city centre. Hassling pedestrians and running red lights is clearly naughty and I entirely agree. But what I find completely bizarre is the decision to intimidate cyclists by apparently tarring all of us with the same brush AND not dealing with the true problem (safe cycle routes). So much for encouraging people to use bikes eh? The Taff trail may be a wonderful resource in Cardiff, but its only useful if you’re travelling North to South and Bute Park only helps on the periphery of the civic centre. Everday I ride around the outskirts of Queen St (Boulevard De Nantes and Newport Rd) and believe me, the traffic is thick, fast and unrelenting, so let’s not rest on our laurels. I sent a message to South Wales Police via Twitter to ask them if they would be leafleting every driver in the city centre, reminding motorists not to speed, park on double yellows, use their phone while driving or……driving through red lights. I’ve recently witnessed so many cars either jumping reds or ‘amber gambling’ that I thought the law had changed and traffic lights only now exist as a form of illuminated entertainment (a bit like disco lights on a big stick).  So far, I’ve yet to receive a response. Perhaps they overlooked it

A 'Citizen Smith' moment descends on the Bicycling Times artwork team.

Next Thursday there will be a 3 hour debate in Parliament to discuss cycle safety. This is the first time in many, many years that the issue has been so high on the agenda. You can thank the Times for that. Their rather excellent campaign has truly put cycle issues in the limelight and forced a few bums to twitch nervously. To raise awareness, a number of prominent London bloggers and the London cycling campaign have collectively organised a ride next Wednesday on a circuitous route of central London (starting and finishing at the Mall and taking in Westminster). Subject to a successful realignment of diary commitments, I’m hoping to be there, perched on my Birdy and jutting out my chin in stoic fashion. I’ll miss the eyeballs out fun of a Maindy track session, but hey-ho. Sometimes you have to put your money where your mouth is.

It seems we’re not the only ones flexing our quads. The latest issue of Bicycle Times dropped through my letterbox this morning, displaying its usual excellent cover art on a very related theme.

Details of the ride can be found on the London cycling campaign pages and may be accessed here.

 

Beer and loafing in lapsed pathos

“An idle mind is a questioning, sceptical mind. Hence it is a mind not too bound up with ephemeral things, as the minds of workers are. The idler, then, is somebody who separates himself from his occupation: there are many people scarcely conscious of living except in the exercise of some conventional occupation”

Clearly that’s not me stringing those words together. Firstly, there are no typo’s for eagle-eyed Paul to correct (Paul delights in sweeping up the mess I leave on the CycleStuff site. Curse those IT pedants*) and secondly, the language belongs to the Victorian era. An epoch of steam and iron, empire and engineering.

The Whippet cycle, 1885

Oh, and single speeds (pictured). Not that I’m obsessed with them or anything….

No, those words belong to Robert Louis Stevenson, he of ‘Treasure Island’ and ‘Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ fame. I found them on the pages of the Idler magazine whilst checking out subscription details.The minute I read them, I knew those words have even greater relevance now; an age in which labour saving devices (like the laptop I’m typing this on). gobble time down rather than freeing it up.

It is so easy to go through life in automaton fashion. Wake up, shower, breakfast, work, dinner, TV-evening-brainwash, bed. We’ve become conditioned to do it. A conveyor belt of energy sapping, daily, mind numbing chores, rarely creating the space to think and reflect. Fortunately help is at hand. The answer lies in the shed/garage/hall (delete as appropriate) and has a saddle stuck on top of it.

It dawned on me that all the major decisions and big ideas that have crossed my mind in the last 20 years, have happened whilst running along a hilltop ridge or spinning the cranks of my bike. These activities have one major thing in common; individual space, forging the freedom to think, the space to plan and the resolve to act. The great irony is that it’s possible to be far more productive in the long run to ditch immediate chores than it is to complete them. The great news is that there’s often great opportunity to do so. Cycle your city to contemplate the world. Ride the trails and see the wood for the trees. Dub it productive loafing. If it has a catchy name, it has a better chance of catching on.

Tonight’s plan is to head to Maindy track and lose myself in the rhythm of the chain-gang. Empty the head of clutter and the legs of energy. I bet I work through a problem or two while I’m at it. A beer will inevitably settle any private debates. If you ever need an excuse to get out on your bike (really, who needs excuses?), I hope Mr Stevenson’s sharp observation adds to your armoury.

Sporting bandages on each elbow (damned frame failures), I'm caught thinking about something. I'd also LOVE to know what Stu Rees was thinking about (far right). Image by Lisa Rees and taken whilst hanging out of a car.

*Really that should read ‘thanks for the corrections!’.

A footnote apology: I’m really, really sorry about the title. I was aiming for the mother of all puns. A true motherpunner. I promise not to do it again.

 

Vive le Vélo

Image via Boneshaker magazine

Well…..it’s that time of year isn’t it? Spring is (nearly) in the air, the Odoni office needs a lick of paint and a bit of a spruce, we like a little bit of bike art, a tweet flies into the ether and BUMPF, a new piece of art is procured and flying our way.

The screen print above was designed by John Coe the Creative Director of Boneshaker for the 2011 Artcrank LDN show at Look Mum No Hands. Given that we loaned the use of our bike racks to the same event, I thought it would be nice to have a little souvenir for our soon to be decorated meeting room. A bit like Mr Ben.

If you’re not sure who Mr Ben is, picture me standing bolt upright, hands on hips, tutting and shaking my head in mock disbelief, then click this link to share a part of 1970s childhood.

Nice piece of art though, eh? There are still some dyed in the wool motorists amongst our company ranks, so I’m deploying all of my psychological weapons in a bid to wean them off the combustion engine and onto two wheels. Artwork, good books and beautiful images of steel frames figure prominently amongst them. They won’t resist forever

 

It’s official – Boneshaker, a literary, cycling marvel.

The flash catches the head of a Karmeliet beer.

In a whirlwind 22 hours, we visited the big smoke on the weekend. A brief trip that involved a Black Keys concert (fantastic), a traditional Victorian pub (the Princess Louise), a Belgian beer cafe (for displaced cyclo-crossers like us) and a well stocked bookshop (more on this shortly). The weather was brutally cold, a wan winter sun refusing to melt 12 inch icicles and bitter gusts freezing hardy cycling commuters.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever been there, but the London Review bookshop is a splendid place. Its selection of fascinating and unique books is arguably second to none. It has a fantastic café bolted on the side and is within spitting distance of the British Museum. It is resplendent in its modern oak finish. In fact, it’s only let down by the supercilious member of staff who removed the word ‘customer’ from the phrase ‘customer service’, replacing it with the more appropriate ‘grudging’. We spent over £40 on books there; a copy of ‘The Idler’ magazine, a China Mieville novel (Kraken), A Sara Wheeler Arctic odyssey and ‘The Etymologicon’ for a particularly pedantic fellow cyclist (he’ll love it). I think we spent just about enough to earn ourselves a curt ‘thank you’ before we shuffled out, heads cowed in the presence of such superior company. Note to self; remember not to ask for a travel book by the title of ‘True North’ in a Bloomsbury bookshop. Much tutting and mutterings of ‘there are lots of books called that’ will ensue. Perhaps it was the effects of the cold snap? No matter, I’m the forgiving type. Mission accomplished, goods procured.

Bravo Boneshaker - second shelf, right hand side.

So……a splendid shop with some shortcomings (I’ve noted the odd lack of grace before). One thing is for sure though; whoever is in charge of book and magazine selection at the LRB deserves a hearty slap on the back, particularly as I spotted Boneshaker amongst its impressive magazine collection. The LRB is very choosy about magazines, bypassing WHSmith territory and concentrating on the interesting and the quirky, the literate and the beautiful. As we all know – and if you haven’t read it I can’t recommend it highly enough – Boneshaker has all that in spades. Written and illustrated by cyclists for cyclists, it packs more soul than the Stax back catalogue. The literary world has discovered what we’ve known for quite some time; Boneshaker is a work of art. Well done chaps – keep up the great work.

As an aside, hats off to the brave ‘Bromptoneers’ pioneering their way through London traffic on a folding bike whilst being shepherded by bloody big trucks. More than once, I winced at the proximity of HGVs in Holborn. Anybody who questions the Times’ ‘Cities fit for cycling’ campaign should be sent directly into central London on a folder. TWICE. The smart money would be on a rapid fire ‘U’ turn.

The next issue of boneshaker is imminent and I’m looking forward to mine. Interested in the ‘Cities fit for cycling campaign?’ Sign up to the Times’ campaign here.