If you have to get a puncture, get one at Ealing Common

So off I cycled into the night last night. My colleagues' fears about the snow were completely unfounded and although it was damp on the road the temperature meant the snow melted away to nothing rather than turn into the sheet ice of recent weeks.

I was enjoying the lack of traffic (I worked late) and clear roads when I heard a suspicious sound.

Shh... Shh... Shh... Shh... Shh... Shh... Shh...

It got faster if I sped up and slower if I eased off.

I had a little ponder:
Hmmmmmm, perhaps a leaf stuck on the tyre? Maybe something else? Perhaps the wheel buckled on that last pothole and the rim's hitting the brake? Should I stop? Am only 15-20 minutes from home, I could chance it. No, I'll stop.

I pulled over outside Ealing Common station and good job too. The sound was the escaping air from a puncture. A chunk of glass was clearly visible in my front tyre even in the relative darkness. Fabulously, Ealing Common has a 'foyer' of sorts, it's warm, dry, well-lit and big enough that a cyclist carrying out repairs is in nobody's way. I set to work. As the source of the problem was so obvious I took the extreme step of deciding not to take the wheel off. I released the brake and took the tyre off.

A well-meaning guy from the kebab shop looking into the station came and looked concerned while giving lots of advice. 'You should carry a spare inner tube!' Yes I always carry one but I actually have two with me. 'You should take the inner tube all the way out to find the hole!' I would normally but, actually, I already knew where the hole was. 'But do you have any patches?!' Ummmm yes.

All very well-meaning I'm sure. He even applauded when I got the tyre back on and pumped up.

A member of the station staff then gave me some tissues to wipe my hands with. Lovely.

Mr Weenie had offered to come and get me when I rang to tell him I'd be late because of my puncture fairy visitation but was audibly relieved when I rang to let him know that he could leave his pyjamas on and get the takeaway ordered.

It took me about 20 minutes all in to get repaired and back on the road. I was in a safe, dry, well-lit place with helpful staff if I'd needed anything.

If you're going to get a puncture it was a good place to get one I reckon.

Wet pants. Gross.

Of all the days to forget your spare pants (or panties for those in the US), today was not a good day. I ended up cycling all the way to work because the trains were so badly affected by the snow that's still falling and although I didn't find the roads any more slippery than in heavy rain, the traffic was AWFUL.

It took nearly an hour to get in, normally it takes half that but the cars were stationary and some of them were being very silly. It was bumper to bumper most of the way and tempers were frayed. Desperate attempts to turn onto the main road left quite a few people blocking lanes of traffic and the sound of horns blaring in rage echoed all around.

Many people appeared to have just got into their cars and started to drive without bothering to clear their lights or windscreens. Wipers will clear the windscreen but clear your f*cking indicators people! Nearly hit a guy turning left across me because I couldn't see him indicating. He looked angry at first but went an embarrassed pink when I pointed to his hidden lights.

I carried on passing numerous buses with snow like a thousand tiny marbles hitting my eyeballs.

All that so I could sit safe in the office with the slush of the commute soaking through my nice clean jeans from my soaking wet pants. I just hope no one thinks I've wet myself.

Cautious driving vs driving scared

This morning Reg and I braved the roads. I walked to the end of my road as it remained ungritted and got on at the main road. We pootled cautiously at first then, although I cycled slower than an average commute, we headed off at a steady pace with his brand new rear brake blocks installed the night before.*

I had anticipated slightly heavier traffic from the reduced speeds and people peeking out too far before entering the main road because their braking distance was increased but I didn't count on scared drivers. I don'tr mean cautious drivers. Cautious drivers don't drive to fast, they give plenty of signals when turning and changing lanes, they look in their mirrors a lot and you can generally tell what they're going to do. Scared drivers are the frightening ones.

One example was me trying to overtake a stationary bus. I signalled and looked behind me, a car behind appeared to slow so I pulled out but she just kept coming. She wasn't slowing, she was just going at a ridiculously low speed. With her hands clamped to the steering wheel and staring straight forward, she looked terrified and certainly wasn't looking at me. Cue me nearly hitting her and her becoming even jumpier. Yes I stayed clear of her after that.

Others were braking too sharply, swerving round unfrozen puddles less than an inch deep (I presume in case they were icy) and generally nobbing around.

When it comes to snow and ice Londoners are, I'm ashamed to say, quite weedy. In Yorkshire people are digging their cars out of the snow an generally getting on with things. Get a grip people.

*They are Koolstop ones in 'Salmon' (pinky red) and seem very good so far.