A dark week for cyclists

This week in London, four cyclists have dies and another three have been seriously injured on London's roads.

I won't pretend to know the full details of each incident, nor am I stupid enough to apportion blame.

However, I do think that the numbers have now crossed the line from tragic coincidence to proof that something has to be done to improve cycling infrastructure in London. No longer do I feel irritated at the chorus of 'please be careful' from loved ones as I head off on my bike, now I understand why they worry and feel bad for being the cause of their concern.

Although I disagree with those around me who have decided that cycling in London means certain death, I'll admit there are problems to be addressed.

The cycle lanes that do exist need some serious work. The ones I regularly use in Ealing, Shepherd's Bush and west London generally are pretty poor. There are potholes galore, they stop and start at will and many are completely illogical. In addition, the problems identified with the Bow roundabout, and the recent deaths there, prove that paint on the road is not enough.

Separate cycle paths have their place but, in a city established hundreds of years ago, it is completely impractical to suggest we can build a comprehensive network from scratch.

I think we need to be looking at both cyclists and motorised vehicles to address some of the situation. Both are legitimate road users and should be respected and held accountable as such.

We need more access to awareness campaigns on the sight limitations of lorries, for example. Chatting to friends, very few were aware of just how little lorry drivers can see around their cab. The many cyclists I see creeping up the inside of immense articulated lorries are surely unaware of just how invisible they are.

Drivers should also be made aware of a cyclists' eye view when they come to close. Cars are meant to give a three feet of clearance when overtaking a bike, but few do. I've been brushed by wing mirrors or done emergency stops many times when cars, buses and lorries have come too close. I honestly believe most drivers would give more space if they experienced the feeling of a near miss.

what really gets me angryu, however, is that the laws already exist to make everyone safer, but they are not being enforced.

Since returning to commuting I have been horrified by some of the behaviour on the roads, cyclists and drivers alike have demonstrated reckless and dangerous disregard for one another and themselves. For every cyclist I see jump a red light, I see a car do the same. For every car that swerves into the cycle lane without looking, I see a cyclist cutting into traffic without any indication of their intentions.

I could go on, but the point is that there are dicks that drive and dicks that cycle. Their behaviour has to be addressed. There needs to be a campaign to clamp down on dangerous behaviour on both sides. Prosecute for light jumps, take on drivers that creep in ASL boxes, just bloody enforce the law. Bikes are required to have lights, so why are so many cyclists allowed to go on the road without them unchallenged. They are risking not only themselves, but everyone around them. It's not acceptable. Why are so many drivers allowed to get away with being on their mobiles phones? It's not acceptable.

Until we take road behaviour seriously as the issue it is and those in authority start enforcing the laws in place for our safety (and that of pedestrians), all the cycle lanes in the world won't be enough.

Cycling is on the up, with more people unable to afford the exhorbitant costs of owning and driving a car, it's only going to increase.

It's about time that those in charge stopped ignoring the problem and dealt with it.

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.

Trackstands and leaf blowers

Hi guys, yes you, the ones with the trackstand attempts.

Let me let you in on a secret people: that whole attempting to stand upright on a wobbly stationary bike; the slow creeping forward that's made at least two of you fall over in front of me; that super extension of the neck and swivelling motion to see all junctions; the sudden halt as a car comes haring round the corner; the near misses with cars; the being sworn at by drivers; all of it can be avoided.

Yes, wait until the light's green and you can cross the junction without all that palarva. Simples.

Oh and Mr Council Road Cleaner Man, thanks for cleaning the streets, but using your leaf blower to direct the dust, dried flowers and leaves and road crud right into my face? Not cool.

The pink jersey

I own two Pearl Izumi jerseys, both have pink on but one is really pink. I also own a long-sleeved one that's REALLY pink.

As a rule, pink is fairly rare among the cycling fraternity (and sisternity), particularly among those who wear lycra. This means I'm rather distinctive, especially with my bright yellow 'seatbelt' worn over the top at all times.

Yesterday A2 was in town working from a local office and saw me streak past as he ordered his corporate coffee, our company's chairman often says hello when he sees me out and about, children I teach see me and wave, my parents' church friends mention they've spotted me when they see mum and dad at choir practice.

There's an upside and downside to all this:

• The upside is that when I complain about evil bus drivers I can tell TfL that I know I've been repeatedly offended against as a personal insult because I don't look like any old cyclist; I must also be on best behaviour a lot, which to me is a good thing as it often stops me from tempting naughtiness.
• The downside is that when you nearly hit said company chairman because he didn't look when he crossed the road you were turning into you spend the rest of the day worrying that he knows it was you........
  

Victory for me, not for Mr Weenie

Last night I had one of those sweet sweet moments that occasionally crop up when you commute by bike.

Between Shepherd's Bush and Acton a guy on a phone swerved left and nearly hit me as I came back. He was a youngish bloke and, in response to my shout of 'Watch it you idiot!', he and his passenger waved with saccharine smiles. I waved back with a similar smile and a slightly different gesture. They laughed and apologised, I laughed and thought nothing of it.

It was a popular model silver car so when I passed it the first time I barely registered it. He overtook again but I definitely noticed when I passed it again a mile later. I didn't see him again for a couple of miles and assumed he'd turned off.

I got to west Ealing and, while stopped at traffic lights, two familiar faces peered out from the car next to me and waved, giggling. The window was rolled down, I couldn't resist: 'About time! Where the hell have you guys been?'

The reply came: 'Naaaah man! How many gears have you got on that thing?!'

I shouted back '24' before pedalling off while they stayed stuck in the traffic queue. I didn't see them again and arrived home triumphant.

Car stomping weenie-style.

In other news though, Mr Weenie came off Roger this morning. He snapped the pedal and has grazed his right side on his arm, leg and knee. Luckily, however, he was wearing the cycle mitts I bought him for our anniversary and his hands were spared. Phew!

Whoa! You f*cking idiot!

I'm sorry silver car, but if you change lanes without looking or indicating and nearly hit me, I shout.

Granted I was already cross but still.

Last night Reg's back tyre felt very squidgy but, seeing no puncture, I decided to pump it a bit. The valve broke. It's a presta valve and the middle bit snapped clean off. I decided to chance it and cycled home on it.

However, after getting home and receiving anniversary pressies I forgot all about it. (Thanks Mr Weenie, I woke up to the dulcet tones of Chris Moyles after getting the clock radio I wanted.) Mr Weenie received chamois cream and padded undershorts. He laughed at both but couldn't resist trying on the latter. He then strode round the house saying 'It actually feels like I've pooed myself!'

This morning, as I awoke, I remembered the inner tube. I duly got up and decided to work in the front room rather than go outside in the cold. With Reg tipped up, Mr Handsome decided to 'help'. As I wiped the oil from his nose I couldn't help but giggle.

My hands are sore after a hard weekend's riding and each time I thought I'd got the tyre back on I heard the defined 'SchmoCK!' sound of it popping back out further round the rim. I got it back on eventually and all was complete. I washed my hands and set off.

Only for you, Mr Silver Car, to nearly hit me then wave with a sly grin as I shouted. Grrrrrrr

The rage returns

Having been pootling peacefully through Barnes with S and then being off sick I have, thankfully, been able to avoid the Uxbridge Road for around a week.

This morning, I was cut up by cyclists and cars, left-hooked by a complete idiot even though we had been waiting at lights and I'd been there first, and caught in really bad traffic.

I arrived at work hot and grumpy.

It's amazing how the route can affect your mood and enjoyment. I may well switch to the route via Barnes permanently as I don't like how the Uxbridge Road makes me feel. Grrrrrr

What if?

Work is horrendously busy so my posts have been woefully late and rubbish, I apologise. Anyhoo.

This morning I was an awe-inspiring example of common sense, marred only by the fact it was prompted by someone else's silliness.

I came in early this morning so I was among unfamiliar cyclists. I was watching carefully as, I have learned, some cyclists are worth avoiding for various reasons. A lot of lorries seem to be coming along the Uxbridge Road of late and they also warrant attention.

One in particular was being a bit silly. A bit too close a bit too often. I decided to steer clear and let him get ahead of me rather than creep up the left. He was ahead of me when we hit a nasty junction. It's a two-laner. The left lane is for left-turns and those going straight ahead. The right lane is for those turning right.

People weave across the lanes and/or forget to indicate all the time so it's a junction I'll queue at rather than head for the advanced stop line a lot of the time.

Silly Lorry Man was ahead of me and, despite there being a cyclist waiting at the lights in the left-hand lane, he steamed right up to the stop line and sat looking menacing. Like this (lorry is blue, bike is pink):











My heart was in my mouth. The cyclist was a lady older than myself and looked sensible (I believe she was on a Brompton and had lights and all the kit etc), but I still worried. Perhaps she was turning left, but perhaps not. Maybe the lorry would go straight on..... What would happen?!

Then, as my fear reached its zenith, something very peculiar happened. The cyclist looked up at the lorry, saw there was no way of getting in front of it, got off her bike and lifted it onto the pavement. As she did this, the lights changed and the lorry, of course, turned left. The cyclist then walked her bike across the crossing and got back on the road as I swept by, having queued in the traffic behind.

I was mightily relieved and continued on my way, but I couldn't help thinking. What if?

What if she hadn't taken the initiative? What if that lorry had turned left as she'd gone straight on. What if I'd been behind a horrific accident?

Mr Mercedes

Hello Mr Mercedes,

I do hope you're having a lovely morning. No doubt you've forgotten all about our near collision yesterday. I really do think you were in the wrong.

See my fabulous illustration (I am, of course, the pink blob):This is the junction where it happened. I had plenty of time to cross car one as it turned left, get behind car two after it had turned and be well out of your way. The car behind me (the blue box) was certainly in agreement as he was following me across when you made your move.

Your decision to change lanes without indicating, nearly hit car two when squeezing past it and then roaring across was not a good one.

If I hadn't squealed and you hadn't stopped you would have hit me side-on straight into the path of the big van.

Thank goodness you have big expensive brakes on your big expensive car. You should be ashamed of yourself you horrible person.

One incident, two perspectives....

Petronella Wyatt-style:

This morning a woman was nearly hit by cyclist in Shpeherd's Bush.

She was innocently crossing the road when a lycra-clad lout going at reckless speed appeared from nowhere and nearly mowed her down. She barely stopped before shouting abuse and pedalling away with absolutely no regard for the trauma of the victim.

Now, I tried cycling in London and was rubbish at it so know that it's dangerous. We must ban these mentalists!

What actually happened:

The wind finally died down this morning and I had a great commute. The lights were in my favour, there were few bad motorists around and the cloud cover meant there were no nasty surprise sunbeams blinding me.

In fact, I was at top speed today and, once past Acton, barely dipped below 20mph as the bus lane was clear nearly all the way. Coming up to Shepherd's Bush the traffic in the main lane was stationary as there are nasty roadworks, with no buses about and precious few cyclists, I was able to make excellent time. But, about a mile short of Shepherd's Bush, disaster nearly struck.

A woman stepped out from behind a stationary lorry, nowhere near a crossing, right in front of me.

I pulled the brakes and, with some mega-fishtailing, managed to stop in time. I pulled over to catch my breath and the woman ran over. 'I'm so sorry!' was all I heard. Still in shock I told her how fast I'd been going and to please be more careful in future. Secretly I was hugely impressed that she hadn't dropped the catering tray she was carrying.

She was shocked at how fast I'd been going, apologised again and skipped merrily off, obviously in a rush. I got back up to speed and headed to work. In the lift I was praised by a fellow employee who'd seen me stop at a red light at a crossing by the office. We both grumbled about cyclists who jump the light before I got off on my floor.

Ride theme tunes

I have a weird memory for music.

I sing and teach music to small children and I can generally recall a song if I hear a few bars. Once it's in there I can't get it out and cars with loud music are the worst for planting 'ear worms'. Lately it's meant that I've had an eclectic mix of tunes in my head on rides home:

• P.I.M.P, Fifty Cent
• Dog Days Are Over, Florence and the Machine
• The Candyman Can, Dunno which version
• Spiralling, Keane
• Just a Ride, Jem
• You Got the Love, Candistation
• Candy, Paulo Nutini
• Requiem, Verdi

It doesn't seem to affect my cycling style, but singing 'I'm a motherf***ing P.I.M.P.' in a posh accent under your breath as you pass stationary traffic does get you some choice looks.

In other news:
To the guy who nearly hit me as I crossed a junction because he ran a red light, I stand by my words last night, you're a t**t.

What a difference a day makes...

24 little hours, brought the sun and the flowers, where there used to be rain...... (Is a very old jazz song.)

Last night I came home in the pouring rain and was miserable.

I stopped regularly to wipe off my glasses, put up with drivers not looking, misted side windows that meant people couldn't see me and freezing hands.

I got home and stripped before putting nearly everything I was wearing into the washing machine and having a very hot shower. I was massively grumpy and Mr Weenie bought me pizza to cheer me up. I was thoroughly fed up and decided that if this morning was anything like last night I'd take the train.

So you can imagine my joy when I woke up to blue skies and dry weather.

All my clothes had dried on the radiators (apart from the shoes but they were only slightly damp) so I threw them on and got going. I flew through Ealing and was loving it until I hit the section just before Acton.

Note to bendy bus driver:

When two cyclists are ahead of you in the bus lane going 20mph and the next stop is less than 150 yards away DON'T attempt an overtake and and nearly crush the second one (me) when you cut her up. Just drive behind.

The complaint's been lodged and the man from TfL agreed it sounded like the driver was being a bit thick.

I refused to let it ruin my day though. Am full of the joys and am bouncy with energy. Hurray for sunshine!

What was that guy's problem?

I was running late today so there was less traffic than usual.

Mr Weenie and I ended up heading off at the same time and on the same route for a mile or so. If he's reading, laughing and pointing while overtaking me is NOT funny nor very nice. You are mean.

Anyway, as I shot through Ealing Broadway and headed for Ealing Common I heard the unmistakable blaring of someone leaning on their car horn repeatedly. I glanced behind and saw a guy in a small blue car careering past a cyclists far too close, glaring at him and leaning on said horn.

It appeared that the problem was the skip that has been blocking part of the cycle lane for a while in Ealing Broadway. Cyclists are forced to swing out into the main traffic body to go round it and not all motorists are helpful or pleasant about it. The cyclist behind was swinging out round this skip when the horn went, hence why I reckon that was the problem.

As the blue car hared towards me I decided to gutter-hug briefly as this was clearly a driver with issues, plus the bus lane was ahead where I'd be 'safe'. He passed me but then swung left into said bus lane and undertook two cars before swinging right again across two lanes to get into the right-turn filter lane! What a c*ck.

The other cyclists caught up with me at the lights and I asked if he was ok and what on earth that guy's problem was. He was, it has to be said, a rather dishy Frenchman on a rather lovely bike. (There was no birting Mr Weenie, but you would have had only yourself to blame if there had been.)

'Prrrr aps ee eez just one of zose guys? Ee wheel ave to take ze bouse in ze future if ee looses eez lisense no?'

We giggled about it before he headed off ahead of me, but I couldn't help thinking that for all our laughing, that guy's an accident waiting to happen. The fact it wasn't today was just luck.

An education in bus driving

As I was heading home on Tuesday night I was forced to give a bus driver a lesson.

A van being a nobber had forced me into the wrong lane I can't be bothered to go into it but he'd revved, tailgated then decided to undertake me and I had ended up in the left hand side of the the filter lane to turn right. I did want to turn right but I normally take the centre of the lane as the road's a little narrow there.

I was a little surprised therefore to get beeped at by a bus behind me. I was over as far as I could go and was waiting for the traffic to move forward a bit to get in the centre of the lane.

As I attempted to shuffle across further the bus driver leant out. 'Why are you not in the cycle lane?! You go there!' (He was pointing to the left.)

I replied:
'Actually I don't go there if I'm turning right and that's what I'm doing. Oh and I have every right to cycle on this bit of road according to the Highway Code. I would read it if I were you, especially given that driving's your job.'

When his passengers began to giggle at the bus stop he retreated into his cab muttering an apology.

I feel I've taught him something useful. How marvellous.

Eep!

I saw someone nearly get squooshed today.

I see people come fairly close regularly but this was really close. He went up the left side of huge lorry as the lights changed at a left turn. He wobbled forth and ended up inches from one of its wheels. Then, as he entered the Hammersmith one-way system he actually cut the lorry up again because he was in the wrong lane.

I was horrified. What upset me the most was that he clearly had no idea just how close he'd come to disaster, nor did he think he'd done anything wrong.

My heart was in my mouth and I wanted to call out a warning but was worried that, if I distracted him, I would make it even worse than it already was. So, instead, a strangled 'Eep!' sound was all I uttered.

Sheesh.

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.

Crouching kitty, hidden danger

I crouch, waiting.

As I ponder the meaning of the universe and it's relation to the amount of food I can get out of my human cohabitants I hear the steady whirring I've been waiting for. I sit, like a statue, willing the freezing pedaller closer.... closer.

At the optimum moment I spring forth with a yowl, inches from the cyclist's front wheel.

I pause, revelling in the screech of brakes and the loud whoop of fright from the lycra-clad victim.

Once she has fishtailed to an exciting stop on the ice I saunter off and flick my tail. Ha!

I am the kamikaze kitteh.

Oh the rage

This morning I was watching BBC1 with my coffee as I usually do before setting off. As well as the news it provides valuable weather information and the traffic report.

A report about cycling was announced and my ears pricked up. Apparently research has found that you're more likely to have an accident/get injured if you cycle to work than if you drive.

No sh*t Sherlock.

My jaw was slack in disbelief that an entire slot of the news was focused on this amazing piece of news. The rage started to build when the reporter, in Bristol, started his pre-recorded section. At no point was it mentioned the kinds of accidents they were talking about, all accidents including minor bumps, those reported to police, those involving injuries? It would have been nice to get some clarity. If, for example it was based on injuries sustained it would have been revealed as rubbish. Of course cyclists are more likely to get injured, they are not in a big metal box with air bags and bumpers.

There was much talk of cyclists going through red lights and being silly, a refreshing change in fact as mostly these reports will not apportion any blame to cyclists at all, but there was little mention of the appalling state of cycling facilities and the fact that even where they exist some motorists swerve into them, park in them and generally act like nobheads.

What is the point of research like this if it is not examined in any meaningful way?

I honestly believe that while you can't prevent some accidents, cycling within the law and sensibly greatly reduces the dangers you face on the road. This danger would be even more reduced if cycle lanes and facilities were protected from idiots parking in them and if motorists who drive dangerously and those who hit cyclists through their own fault were prosecuted and given meaningful sentences.

This perception that cyclists are mavericks who take their own lives in their hands every time they take to two wheels and that an accident is inevitable must be addressed. Being hit by a car at some point is not a foregone conclusion, perhaps the money spent on this research would be better spent on cycle facilities rather than stating the bloody obvious.

The winged nemesis

This morning I fought off potholes, bad driving and road crud as I pedalled into work. I did the commute in the standard half hour and apart from getting annoyed by the weather (too cold not to wear a jacket but you're well sweaty when you get to work) the ride was unremarkable.

Having gone unpadded yesterday I was mightily relieved to be back in my Gorewear leggings with their ergonomic protection for lady bits. You think a bit of foam wouldn't make that much difference but when you hit that speed bump you feel the love.

But anyhoo so there I was, speeding along despite the wind when there he stood. His bead-like eyes staring at me. He was like a statue, daring me to a game of chicken, ignoring the irony that he was, in fact, a pigeon.

I set a course and put my head down to charge. He remained still, serene in the morning breeze, seemingly unaware of my ability to squash him with barely a bump. He stared into me... then... suddenly, he was away, jumping up towards my face and flapping towards me in a mess of feathers and rage.

I squealed and swerved a bit to avoid him then he was gone... to where nobody knows.

Learning not to swear

This morning an incredibly naughty E2 double decker nearly squooshed me.

I was in the right-hand lane because I knew that the E2 route demanded he go left and I didn't want to be in the way. I was happily tootling along when he indicated right, 'Fine,' I thought, ' he's probably pulling out round a parked car or summat but as I'm halfway up the side of the bus surely he'll wait until I'm clear, surely in my bright yellow Sam Brown and bright clothing he can see me.'

I was wrong. He pulled straight across me and I emergency stopped and had to waddle Reg backwards a bit to avoid being smacked by his rear end. He then swung back into the left lane from whence he came.

But justice prevailed. He had to stop at a light.

I pulled up to his window with a hearty 'Oi!'.

'You do NOT pull out right when there is a cyclist halfway up your bus!

'CHECK YOUR MIRRORS!'

It was snarly I'll admit but at no point did I swear. The bus driver looked around 60 years old and a bit frightened to be confronted by the raging weenie beast. No point in swearing really, point was made. I then swept away in a dignified and snooty manner.

Harumph!