The pupil has become the master...

Last night S and I bumped into bicycleslut on the way home. She accompanied us part of the way on a gorgeous red Brompton and the three of us pootled home. It was only as we hit the A4 cycle track that I realised our average speed was up by about 4kph and I anxiously looked at S to check she was ok. Of course she was. In fact, she looked positively radiant so we continued at the increased pace and dropped her home.

This morning S and I set off once more and I found myself looking behind for her only to realise she was out in front and we were making record time. By the time we hit Hammersmith she was going like a pro. But then we hit a snag or, rather, it nearly hit her. The traffic up to the one-way was stationary and S decided, quite wisey, that she didn't fancy going up the left-hand-side of the large lorry in front of us, so she stopped.

I heard a nasty roaring whine from behind me and a motorbike decided he'd squeeze past us. He was too close when he passed me, but by the time he got to S, his wheel was halfway up onto the pavement to get past and he missed her handlebar by a couple of inches at most.

I was worried and, trapped by a car, could only look on as S carried on up to the ASL box. I was confused as normally she's happy to queue. She handled the lane change with aplomb and I caught up at the next light. I turned to ask if she wanted to stop for coffee.

'He said I was going too slowly!'

'Eh?'

'I caught up with that motorbike and said could he try not killing me next time and he said I was going too slowly!'

It transpired that S had gone up the ASL to tell said motorbike that he had come too close and he had no idea what she was talking about, so oblivious had he been to what he'd done. Far from upset, S was enraged that he'd been so careless and put her in danger for nothing. She'd caught up with him so he hadn't saved any time.

After we'd arrived at work, showered and got coffee we were laughing about his micropenis, so there's no lasting damage. I'm proud. She didn't swear or get overly aggressive, she simply alerted him to the fact that he'd been driving dangerously and, with me far behind, then got on with her commute and crossed a large and difficult junction alone without letting him ruin the rest of her day.

What a gal.

Sunny!

It's SUNNY!

It's about bloody time frankly, but the sun has finally got his hat on. Last night I nipped to Hobbycraft to get wool for my latest secret knitting project. Coming back I went through the local park along the cycle track and it was gorgeous. Bees, butterflies and golfers, it had it all. Even a grumpy cab driver this morning couldn't bring me down from the high.

This morning I picked up S and we went via the river but not the long route, which we may do tonight. The sun sparkled on the water and the traffic through Chiswick was fairly light. I even got my shorts out and the legs were on show.

Altogether now... Let the sun shiiiiine, let the suuun shiiiine, the ssuuuuun shhining!

Eugh what a beautiful morning....

Those following Twitter will know it's been a rough couple of days. Having caught the hideous stomach bug going round, I'm feeling less than chipper.

It's especially annoying since S and I have managed two spectacular triumphs this week.

On Monday, following our morning adventure, we took the long route home as well, leading to a grand total of around 15 miles for the day for her and around 20 for me. That's around double S's usual commute and was worthy of praise.

While I was off she took a well-earned rest and this morning we took to the road again. We did the usual short route but she conquered the Chiswick roundabout for the first time and we got to work in 25 minutes. Our first ever trip using that route took nearly 50 minutes so we've practically halved the time and have bested public transport.

I just wish I felt well enough to celebrate.....

Distract your bottom with nice scenery

As it was such a beautiful day, I decided to take S on a route via the river this morning.

We bobbed down to Kew Bridge, crossed over and I was planning to use the Thames path. But it was closed! Grrrrrrrr. Adding 10 minutes to our journey we carried on regardless and went on a more inland route through Barnes. It was beautiful.

What I didn't mention to S is that the route I had chosen is around 3-4 miles longer than our usual route in. Relying on the charm of the river and less traffic, I was confident her muscles wouldn't notice until it was too late! Although some of the roads were narrower the route we went on is a favourite with cyclists and the attitude of drivers (particularly those piloting buses) has been effected. Lots of room was given by most and not a nasty word was shouted.

Sure enough we got to work slightly later than planned because of the path closure. S was hopeful we'd gone further than usual, but not convinced. When I sent her the Gmap pedometer showing nearly eight miles from her house to the office she was thrilled.

I've always thought a beautiful route can make an amazing difference to how your legs, and indeed bottom, are feeling and this morning was the proof. Long may the sunshine continue!

The scenic route

I started this morning in a foul mood. On my way to pick up S a motorist pulled over, rolled down her window and let rip about me 'cycling in the middle of the road'. I was going 18mph, was turning right at the upcoming T-junction and, frankly, have the legal right to cycle where I damn well please.

I was so angry I was shaking. There was just no need to be so abusive and I'm embarrassed to say I swore. When I've made a genuine error I'm mentally prepared for a tirade of abuse, but not when I'm just getting on with my day.

Anyhoo. I picked up S, still very angry, and I tried to let it go. Luckily, fate intervened. The traffic was HORRENDOUS. It was too tight even to filter past. Other cyclists were hopping onto the pavement or attempting silly things but I made an executive decision and we took the 'scenic route'. On a bike, this means getting off the main road, pointing Reg in vaguely the right direction and weaving through backstreets until you know where you are.

We ended up back on the main drag a couple of times and got off again but I'm still certain it was quicker than attempting to negotiate the gridlock. Not only that but as I arrived at work I realised my mood had lifted and I no longer cared about little miss middle class, whose husband probably doesn't love her anymore and whose children are probably spoilt brats.

I hope she got to work on time and sorted out whatever was bothering her. As S pointed out, she'll probably look up the Highway Code, realise I was right and feel really silly.

Oops!

It's a beautiful day, what could ruin it.

Perhaps having to sit in the office in a retina-searingly pink jersey because you've forgotten your t-shirt. Hmmmmmmm

I was starting to feel really silly when S hurried over. 'I've forgotten my trousers!' she exclaimed. 'I'm off to M&S, oh, why are you wearing your jersey?'

I replied, it's the weather for it. Here's a tenner, size 14 t-shirt please. Oops.

**Update: Am now in a pastel blue cotton t-shirt. Bliss.

A lovely morning

Last night I headed to Evans for the second round of leggings-gate.

I'd ordered in the XL Gore Wear ones and went to try them on. They fit. Like a dream. And are so comfy I could wear them forever. How annoying.

I was, in my heart of hearts, hoping that they'd be way too big but the XL fit like a glove. The fabric's so posh it feels like I'm naked and I have to keep looking down to check that I'm not. The panelling means the fabric is snug without pulling and there's so much ergonomic padding I feel like I'm sitting on a cushion. Mmmmmmmm

S and I set off and secretly I was hoping we'd escape without incident. Yesterday, her first day back after a nasty cough and cold, was horrendous. Solid traffic, a vicious left hook by an insane 4x4 BMW that would have left even the hardest lycra loony shaken and various nobbers on the road.

This morning was a dream. Very little traffic, whole stretches where we could pull out into the right lane with no one behind us and we beat the rain to make it into work dry. We also helped a fellow cyclist on a delicious looking Tricross who needed to borrow a pump. Then to top it off the lovely A2 met us in the coffee shop for a natter as we headed in to park up.

Lovely lovely.

A sad realisation

This morning the rude lady on the MTB was on my route again. This was the lady who called S and I idiots for no reason.

She pedalled away through red lights and junctions, S and I overtook her several times and she undertook me so close she hit me with her foot without noticing at a red light when I had stopped.

Then we reached a four-way junction. She mounted the pavement weaved left, decided to cycle across the pedestrian crossing, nearly hitting four people who were crossing it at the time, mounted the pavement the other side before rejoining the road. All this while the light was red and while cars were attempting to go through the junction while she was in the way. She saved a grand total of about one minute and S and I soon caught up.

To my surprise S lent over and gave her a hearty 'Have a great morning!' When woman asked why S pointed out that she and I were being gifted great amusement by her antics. Rude woman got quite shirty at this and sped off.

It was quite funny in a way but what made me sad was that sooner or later this woman will cause an accident and either she, or a pedestrian she hits or both will get hurt. Many cyclists skip red lights and although it's not something I do, many of them are at least aware of the traffic around them and adjust for it, this woman is completely self-absorbed. Unaware of the dangers she's putting herself and others in, it's only a matter of time before she comes acropper.

I shall, in future endeavor to stay out of her way, she's young, very pretty and probably has much to live for, watching her risk it all is just too sad.

Yaaaaawn!

Apologies for the late post but I am KNACKERED. Poor Mr Weenie had a bizarre night as he was so gripped by a nightmare that he woke me up by attempting to push me off the bed, gripping my arm when I asked what he was doing, attempting to leave the room via the wardrobe, then near running out of the bedroom door, coming to his senses only when he reached the bathroom and wondered what on earth he was doing in there.

As a consequence I'm bushed.

It doesn't help that I was out with my sisters last night too. Reg came with me to the pub though and it took me about 10 minutes to get home, bliss.

S and I met up at the usual time after last week's drama. We were understandably apprehensive. The bike shop couldn't find any problems despite her frequent inner tube splits so had concluded that my theory was correct and had retaped the inside of the wheel to protect the inner tubes from the spokes. After a test ride on Sunday had been successful we decided to go into work.

I had reasoned that the drama had lessened S's confidence a little so when we hit the road after the Chiswick Roundabout I carefully monitored my speed and let her take the lead. Oops. I was so busy checking my speedometer that I hadn't noticed she'd nipped off into the distance. I pedalled quickly to catch up only for her to nip off again. She was steaming ahead. She took lanes, overtook a Pashley, saw off an aggressive 4x4 and, as a result we got to Hammersmith Broadway at 8.45am. We were locking up our bikes by 8.55am.

When we first came all the way in we were locking up at 9.15am, that's a hell of a difference and means S has managed to achieve her goal of beating public transport for commuting time. We're already planning some longer routes home when she's built her confidence and strength back up. I was starting to wonder if we'd ever get over the bike problems and I'm pleased the bike shop saw sense, they even agreed to do the repairs for free.

At least for me, the nightmares are over.

The bounce has gone from my bungee

Anyone seen my bounce?

It probably doesn't help that I was late home last night. At long last we've discovered why S has had four flats in two rides. Unfortunately I had already repaired one split and was halfway through pumping the tyre back up when PSSSSSST!

A second split had occurred exactly one spokes width further up the tube.The spokes are poking up through the rim tape and piercing the inner tube. As a consequence we had to walk all the way to Chiswick to tell Evans and get them to solve the problem. We should hear later today whether they agree with the theory but the guy last night agreed it was the most plausible explanation.

I got home at 8pm and tidied, our flat's still a bombsite after the move. My darling moomin brought us delicious lasagne 'I was just making some and thought you might like some', confirming that she is the top moomin of all time, then I collapsed into bed, waking at 4am with backache and then sleeping upright on the sofa with an excited Mr Handsome purring happily on my lap.

The result of all this is that I'm knackered and when an older gentleman on an ancient tourer whizzed past me this morning I barely noticed. To paraphrase the great Wallace of Gromit fame, the bounce has most definitely gone from this bungee.

I'll take the high horse...

S and I were pootling along this morning. We were chatting as we went as there was very little traffic and we had a bus lane to ourselves while the few cars around had two lanes to play with and any cyclists had lots of room to overtake.

Imagine my shock then when a woman came past and muttered loudly 'You're cycling like idiots!' before wobbling away.

I say wobbling because we've passed her before and she cycles in a very low gear and often wobbles while pedalling madly. S and I shrugged it off and continued. I was a bit annoyed as this particular woman runs red lights, wobbles and weaves and is, generally, quite selfish in her cycling. Plus she actually doesn't go that much quicker than we do. I know because I see her frequently.

I tried to forget about it, but at the next very busy junction she was there and was attempting the run the red light. I say attempting because she got ahead of the stop line and was forced to stop as a car came hurtling across (which it had every right to do as it had a green). She then tried again and I don't know what she did to her gears but she was pedalling like a woman possessed and going absolutely nowhere. She wobbled so badly at one point I thought she was going to tip over, weaved all over the lane and finally reached the other side.

Needless to say S and I had to work hard not to guffaw loudly. We didn't entirely succeed.

Happy days and marshmallow caterpillars

Fortunately for her friends, family and self S completed her first solo commute unscathed last night and got home safe and sound.

Unfortunately for me and my faithful readers it means there's little to blog about in terms of exciting cycle news.

However, off topic but equally important is my discovery of M&S Colin the Caterpillar marshmallows. Billed as 'He is what he eats' they're developed on the premis that he's eaten chocolate, strawberries and vanilla and the caterpillars are in segments of these flavours at random. Mmmmmmmmmmm

I am currently dealing with the stress of having moved house, a horrendous week at work and my looming 27th birthday. But, magically, marshmallow caterpillars are having a Prozac effect. Hooray!

A visit from the fairy for S

On cycling forums, the word puncture is treated like a swear word. Often spelt with asterisks it's something every cyclist dreads and it's often referred to as the p******* fairy. Superstitiously, it's thought that mentioning it can hasten it's arrival.

Well S and I hadn't mentioned the fairy this morning but she still got a visit. As she's riding home alone tonight I was following from a distance and allowing her free rein. She was doing marvellously, even overtaking a bus and dealing a with a nasty driver by taking the moral high ground and pulling over.

Then, she signalled left, when our route was clearly straight on. She pulled onto the pavement and it was clear something was wrong, or rather, flat.

The back tire was pancake-like and I pulled out the tools to repair it. It was a split with a tiny hole so we patched it up and I let her know that, in my opinion, it looked like a fault with the tube and to tell the bike shop. We then carried on and arrived at work on time but with no shower time so, technically, a bit late.

It was only disappointing because S had being flying along at speed and had been textbook in her looking, signalling and maneuvering. Now her seat's wobbly as well so that'll be something to look at at lunchtime.

What I was most impressed by was her completely unflapping response to the fairy. She signalled and got off the road and, once the hole was repaired, confidently pedalled off to complete the journey. Lovely.

*Update: Thank you mystery man at work with a magical multitool. Having seen me pondering the seat problem he agreed with me that the main bolt was loose and had it tightened in a matter of moments. Well done that man.

Idiot taxi

S and I arrived at her house triumphant last night but an idiot blew it.

She led all the way home and had signalled, changed lanes and overtaken cars and other cyclists with aplomb. We were slowly making our way down the last road and chatting as we went. I went to turn right into her road when a minicab (silver estate) came haring down the road towards us. I was already halfway across the right-hand lane so continued to cross when he decided to blare his horn and shout 'Come on ladies!!!!!'

Bemused by his attitude I called 'I'm turning right' in case he hadn't seen my signal only for him to shout 'F*** you!' with incredible force and venom before revving his engine and passing me at a hair's width and roaring away.

I've seen aggressive driving but his delivery was particularly vicious and I was incredibly annoyed and offended.

My first thought, however, was the experience's effect on S, who hadn't met with that kind of thing yet. To my immense pride she shrugged it off, looked at me in surprise and said 'Someone's obviously having a bad day' before waving goodbye and wheeling home.

The pupil has become the master......

World athletics had nothing on my commute....

In last week's world athletics it was considered hugely exciting that Usain Bolt had cut a few hundredths of a second off the world record for the 100 and 200 metres.

Other records were set, races were won on hundredths and thousandths of seconds. All very impressive, unless you're me.

I took S in again this morning and it wasn't seconds we shaved of her personal best, it was minutes.... 15 of them. I know this may not sound like much but when you consider it's a cut of a third off her first run it's pretty damn good. She even overtook me on the road! Hmph!

When on the off-road cycle lane we chatted about her success and she admitted it didn't feel like much as she was only going four-and-a-half miles. I reminisced....

When I started I went around two-and-a-half miles to the nearest station. I walked up the hill, I was completely out of puff when I reached my destination and got home feeling like I was going to die. I did the same route on the weekend and it was so easy it was unreal. I whizzed up the hill and arrived at my destination in less than half the time it took me first time round, I was shocked.

When you've been on two wheels for a while it's easy to forget the humble and breathless beginnings. You no longer recall the searing inner thigh pain, the exhaustion, the wobbly hand signals before you got good at them, your abject terror at overtaking a bus. It would be easy to shrug off five miles as 'really easy'. But next time you pass someone pootling and exhausted, remember that was you once.

Thanks for making my point

S and I braved the roads again this morning for her second foray into work by bike. We had more traffic after an accident diverted lots of people our way but not as many roadworks so off we popped.

On the frequent traffic light stops I explained why I did certain things, like why I had taken the centre of the lane or why I was hanging back at a junction. At one point I did both.

It's a junction in Chiswick and the cycle lane forces you into the left-turn lane. As we were going straight on I took primary position so no one turning left would attempt to do so across my front wheel and I hung back as the cars in front of me were all intending to turn left. As I had no idea when the light had changed I decided we should play it safe as undertaking a queue of four cars that could turn left at any time is, in my experience, a bit of a silly idea.

S agreed and we took primary and waited for green. As we waited a woman came up the cycle lane and decided to try and get to the front of the queue I had assumed she was turning left but I was wrong. She was trying to go straight across. The light changed, she nearly hit the side of a car who hadn't seen her and had turned left across her (he WAS indicating) and the air was full of the screeching of brakes and swearing.

I don't know who that woman was but, if you're reading, thank you so much for making my point, but perhaps not so graphically next time....

My protege

When I started cycling A and A2 were vital to my development. Their continued encouragement and praise kept me going when I was exhausted and made me feel like I could continue to improve.

I've cycled in with A several times and A2 came with me to Bognor. I knew I was never alone and even when I got my first solo puncture I was able to ring A, who gave me phone support throughout and gave me lots of positive reinforcement when I got to work. Now I feel I am able to pass this help on.

S works with me so has heard me extolling the virtues of cycling and telling all and sundry how much I love it. I shouldn't have been surprised, therefore, when she announced her intention to get a bike. A couple of months ago she made good on this and has been pedalling around South Ealing on weekends. Despite not cycling in many years and having no idea which brake was which and how the gears worked, she persevered and this morning we cycled into work.

She lives about halfway from my house to work and I know the area well as it's where my dad was in hospital following the stroke. In fact, it felt a bit weird going that route again. But I digress.

We set off using the A4 cycle path and walked the nastier bits, like the Chiswick roundabout and the last section coming into Hammersmith. S did well and didn't wobble once. She signalled, looked behind with increasing frequency and refused to let the noise and bustle of the Chiswick High Road get her down. We negotiated a nasty set of road works and sailed into Hammersmith a good 20 minutes before work starts.

True we went slowly and cautiously, true we overtook just one bus in the whole journey but we didn't ride on the pavement, go through any red lights or break the Highway Code and I tell you what, a lot of other cyclists did.

What put the icing on the cake though was that apparently the tube is up the spout this morning. Mwahahahhahahaha!