Bananaworld
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Bicycling™
Quick rant!
31-Aug-06 Red light = stop. Simple isn't it? A traffic light is red so you stop at it. I mean, what could be harder? Personally I don't have a problem with this concept, and I studied horticulture for kryzakes, which is hardly rocket science! Realising that a traffic light is red and stopping at it is a simple business, we've figured that much out. So why is it (and you know where I'm going with this...) that SO many people have a problem with it? Why do most cyclists (and I really do mean the majority!) simply ignore these red signals? I see it EVERYDAY and it bugs and scares me. I understand that traffic lights are infuriating, especially at a pelican crossing devoid of pedestrians but running red lights simply makes all other road users disrespect cyclists even more thereby furthering the perceived "bad name" that we have to bear. On a scarier note: this disregard for red lights contributes to the bad habits of other road users. Pedestrians have ignored the little red man since he first appeared and everyone knows that can be extremely annoying and very dangerous but there is a far more worrying trend appearing. I was discussing this with a colleague who agrees that red lights must not be run and he mentioned that he's seen more and more motorcyclists jump reds. He reckons this is due to the precedent set by cyclists. I see it a lot, and not just beginner pizza delivery mopedders, even cars run reds a lot. You think there'd be a law against running reds. Oh wait... Funny story! I sometimes shout at fellow cyclists when they run red lights and one guy reacted most comically. He went straight through on a red so I said "Woah! Careful! It's red!" I admit, quite sarcastically. He turned and gave me the finger along with "Fuck off! Wanker!" I common with all these people that run red lights, I then caught him at the next set, which he couldn't run. "That was a little harsh!" "Fuck off, fascist." (Me? A fascist?????) "Pardon?" "What right do you ahve to tell me what to do?" "I didn't! Running red lights is against the law." "So? I choose when to break the law. It's my choice!" "Eh...?!??!" "If I didn't run red lights I wouldn't get to work on time." Let's, at this point, just insert a couple of quotes fom convicted felons: "If I didn't rape people I wouldn't get any sex." "If I didn't rob banks I wouldn't have any money." "If I didn't commit genocide my race wouldn't be pure." Ok, these examples are in a totally different league, but his was a rubbish excuse for breaking the law. My message to fellow cyclists who run red lights: "Don't do it, just get faster, it's much more satisfying."
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Gettin' away from it all...
I popped back to good ol' Evans Cycles Waterloo Cut today to see some of the gang. It was jolly good to see them but mildly upsetting too. They recounted some of their latest trips and what the summer has coming up. I haven't been riding for a very long time and that's 'bad'. I remember back then when I used to go riding A LOT and it was 'good'. Hopefully a move back to London will mean more free time, less tiredness and more oppourtunites to get out in the hills. I want to do stoopid stuff off-road and do many miles on-road with an overloaded bike. In fact, I want to be back here:
Might this have been the last time I was truly free?
Don't be silly, I'm free everytime I'm on my bike! Certainly when compared to the space-craving fools in their masive metal boxes. Yesterday I was properly weathered (snigger) on the way home from work with 'torrential' rain and hailstones that stung any exposed flesh. I was wet-through in minutes but cruising through the traffic jams, as normal, all I could do was laugh manically. MWHAHAHAHAHAHA! Ah, the feeling of being truly 'connected' to the world...
Yes, cycling is the answer. I'm sure regular riding and cycling trips to Wales, Scotland, Peaks 'n' Lakes & maybe France would cure all ills.
"So, why are you indoors, writing this when it's an extremely gorgeous day outside and should really be riding?"
(Gotta wait for a man to come fix my shower. Buggerit.)
Get a ride, George, & get a damn life!
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Emily's Brompton Adventures
Emily & I went cycling around the wilds of Bramley & Silchester to see the Roman town of Calleva.
There were sheep: initially very intimidating but basically extremely scared of everything. We got off-road! Emily rocked on the Brompton. :-)
I unexpectedly had Easter Sunday off (the generosity is boundless!) so decided to go home to see family. I was feeling tight/poor so scrimped on the train fare and did a mighty Brompton mission. I'm not a trainspotter but... resolved to follow the train line as closely as possible and pass through all the towns & villages on the line between Reading & Ealing Broadway. It was a great day for a ride and a great ride. The Brompton ruled!
Emily & I got off-road again on Saturday when we went for a ride out past Caversham towards Mapledurham to see the bluebells. They were barely poking their...
... little heads out but it was a great ride and we had fun riding in the woods:
  
Blimey I really REALLY need to get out on my bike more and do some stupid stuff off-road. I haven't scared myself for a very long time in a way that isn't dickhead-car-driver-getting-in-my-pissing-way-and-nearly-flattening-me-related. Must. Go. Moutain. biking. MUST.
Oh, and on a very cool note, I have until now completely forgotten to mention one of the superb presents Emily got me for my birthday:
Yes, that's right, she had a puzzle of my Brompton made for me! Rock 'n' roll!
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Quick round-up of bicycling bizeeness
Gavin & I went to Bracknell Forest & played in the woods:
I scared the poo out of me by doing a drop that was right at the limit of what both me & the bike are capable of.
I had a brilliant blast one Sunday afternoon to Goring & back. It was solo but it was really nice to get out:
Discovered some spooky woods on the way that will be absolutely chock with bluebells in a few weeks.
Gavin & I went to Ruislip Woods for the first time in a year. The Woods never dry out there, just get a bit less wet. It has been raining for a few days so it was sloppy as hell. I was on the mighty Orange P7 decked out with superb mud tyres from tyre-meisters Schwoblee. The bike was a dream! We rode in pooey mud:
Ride more I shall, mmm.
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Sandy singlespeed checkpoint-seeking
A couple of Sundays ago took Team Bananaworld to its regular spinning ground of the Surrey Hills but this time not for maltloaf-munching atop the highest point of the North Downs. No, I went along for a Gorrick TrailTrax orienteering event. What a day was had...!
Team Bananaworld (well, me...) tried to press-gang various people into joining in, but success was not had so it was another solo mission. I did have the advantage of having accomodation (crucially: Weetabix) just a couple of stations away from Dorking at Sutton (thanks Em!).
So I journeyed to Sutton the day before and woke up on the Sunday to pouring rain and a complete lack of waterproofs other than a wind-jacket. Woo hoo! I had a wet arse by the time I'd reached Sutton station, nevermind the 12km ride from Dorking station to get to the start of the event...
Well, it should have been twelve but ended up being sixteen or so as I may have taken a bit of a major wrong turn. In my defence I would like to point out that whilst a GPS is an extremely useful tool it is 'dumb' and can't account for every turn in the road. Definitely not user-error, oh no.
The rain continued to fall all the way to the pub at the start of the orienteer (is there a noun for it?) and I got jolly wet. The roads were covered in water and the little-used hilly country lanes were layered with sand & leaf-mould that made for interesting handling conditions.
I almost gave up at the point of getting lost before I'd even started, particularly with the fog getting worse & worse:
Steps to the summit of Leith Hill for those lazy enough to drive up there
Anyway I got there, registered, marked up my map and (single)sped away.
Along the way there featured: rain, hills, fog, mud, sandy mud, fog, sand, mud, wet sand, dense fog, sticky mud, muddy sticks, puddles, hills and absolutely no views of anything that was further away than twenty metres. I struggled up a few of the hills and got lost (despite having a GPS and a map) several times and arrived back 21 minutes late, which affected the results somewhat. The organisers had a good laugh at me through the window of the pub as a wrang out my gloves ready for the ride back to Dorking. (Chuckle, chuckle!) One hill that I'd come down twice that day but managed to avoid going up was saved for this final ride back to the station. It was sillyly steep and had little streams running down it amongst the muddy sand. I was determined not to push up it and reduced myself to a grunting, screaming gibbon as I swung the handlebars and hauled on the cranks. I must have looked a bit of a muppet, though I had checked noone was around before attempting to keep pedalling (I can occasionally maintain some pride). Hellish experience.
Had a laugh that day though, particularly at fellow contestants taking it a little too seriously and people roaring around peaceful roads in their 4x4s, completely disconnected from the country around them.
I met Gavin, Jackie & Stephan (from Evans) at Dorking station. They hadn't got there early enough to go orienteering but had had a good ride and were also comically covered in wet sand and flopping around in soggy shoes. Much comparing of notes was done, but the conclusions were all the same: soggyness, heh heh heh.
But anyway, the overall verdict...
What a great ride! Despite having no feeling in my feet (oh for a pair of Sealskinz!) and my saddle containing more water than my CamelBak it was truly a worthwhile experience. Without getting too philosophical & twattish, it was one of those days that you really feel you accomplished a feat of physical & mental endurance. Ok, I may not have been in any danger of dying but fun was had and sometimes you can't ask for much more than that.
"Can I have hundreds 'n' thousands please?"
Shhh.
Well, it would have been a good day if it had ended there, but what made it a truly great day was going back to Emily's flat. I'd left her in the morning looking like a fairly respectable chap and returned a few hours later for her to greet me with the greatest double-take and exclamation of "Oh my god!" I've ever witnessed. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror yet and didn't realise (though could have guessed if I'd thought about it) that my face was a different colour, being more a muddy sand shade. Emily, bless her, still let me in and allowed me to cover her hallway and bathroom in sandy mud. We had a 'Malm' to build (more word on this soon!) so I was warm for the duration of construction but all too soon had to leave. I'd thought that cycling for four hours with grit in my lycra was an unpleasant experience but replacing damp knee-warmers proved to be the most toe-cringingly grim act of the day.
I'm ashamed to say that it took me more than a week to get around to cleaning my bike, though I am a little bit proud of the fact that Cindy The Singlespeed Cinder Cone stood in the kitchen for the duration, slowly shedding sand. I guess there is something to be said for living alone... ;-)
Mmmmm, mud and cinder...
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Team Bananaworld: back in action!
Last Sunday saw Team Bananaworld's first action since the IOW rambling expedition and its first competitive event since the ill-fated enduro last May; I went a-racing!
Yes, I returned to the venue of my first ever mountain bike race at Yately Heath to compete in a good ol' Gorrick XC race. I was feeling like doing a few laps so went in for the Open category at three laps, though I kept telling myself that I was only doing it for a laugh and I was to treat it as just another ride in the woods. I went round a practice lap and initially my legs were not having it. I blamed it on having just ridden up from Blackwater station and persevered.
It paid off! What a great course it was. I soon got into the swing of things and when the race started I was well away. The first two laps went very well indeed and I was doing quite well, but things went a little tits on the third lap when it became clear that I wasn't quite ready for a solid hour and a half of race-pace. That third lap took me slightly longer, as the results show, and I dropped a few places but I did finish and it felt good. I wasn't sure of my place as I didn't have the energy to hang around for the results to come through but when I checked them in the evening I'd done a lot better than I'd been expecting to: 55th in a field of 100 (86 finishers); and so done the denizens of Bananaworld proud.
I'm still not sure if I like competing. I go along to the races as the courses are always jolly well done & lotsa fun. The problem, like so many things in life, is other people. Most of my fellow riders are decent folk who, like me, are out there for a laugh, but there is a minority of people who take it all far too seriously. Yeah, it's a race and we're there to compete, but it's weird & pathetic when they swear at every little hold-up on the course and curse when riders are bunched together and so pushing up the climbs early on in the race.
Anyway, as I say, it's darn good fun! (It's just lucky the station was downhill or I may not have got home...)
Here's my favourite photo from the day, taken by Les Taylor:
I think it nicely captures the glorious weather that inspired so many people to come and have a bash. You can also make out my reddened cheeks - possibly from the cold, or more likely from a lack of race-readiness...
Funky course; wonderful weather; punctual trains to & from; lovely company at breakfast before the race; amazing bike; tasty post-race maltloaf: great day!
Next Sunday will be a slightly more relaxed & comical (singlespeed...) affair as Team Bananaworld heads down to Surrey for an orienteering Trailtrax event. Should be a lot of fun!
Woo hoo! Go Team Bananaworld! (etc...)
Thanks to our 'sponsors': Weetabix; Kona (despite riding a Specialized on the day...); Morrison's BettaBuy maltloaf; and Emily (for her inspiring persona that helped me up the hills!)
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What the world of cycling has seen of me of late
I haven't done even a tiny fraction of the riding I'd liked to have done in the past few months. Other than the 'night ride' detailed last time; I went to the Surrey Hills with the guys from Evans back in November. Here we are atop Holmbury Hill enjoying some of the finest views in England. And wearing silly clothes:
Brilliant trails, brillant cold weather, brilliant ride, only slightly marred by squabbling between people who have to work together all day serving idiot bike-shop customers. Poor sods.
The day before this saw a very exciting event as Emily & I went for a ride in Prospect Park. Woo hoo, Emily on the Brompton!
A beautiful bike carrying a stunningly beautiful lady, it don't get a lot better, no sireee!
Xmas day saw, as last year, a family bike ride which was fun and featured much fettling to fit helmets to all.
And so to the majority of cycling I do: commuting to & from hell... I mean, Grovelands, sorry, slip o' the tongue there! Yes, it's a chuckle-a-second on the roads of Reading, that is, if your idea of a laugh is having the willies scared out of you constantly by truly awful driving. It's far worse than it ever was in London, even in West London where they all have a compulsion to own immense Beamers & Mercs. The suburban idiots of Berkshire feel the need to own immenser SUVs. These are safer for them & their precious cargo (which, as pointed out by Emily, consists of Felicity, Matilda & associated violas, clarinets, games kits & horsey-riding rubbish) but really bad news for anyone else daring to use the roads. As I've said before, what's with 4x4s? The only time they ever go off-road is to park on the pavement to drop of Flick & Tilly. Emily reminded me of their toppling-weakness so let's hope they all roll over into muddy ditches. I have no wish for harm to come to the occupants but it might make them see the stupidity & selfishness of their ways and have them buy a sensible hybrid 'citicar' is they need to own a car at all.
"Roads are not for cars, they are for road-users."
Commuting isn't all bad though. There's a rather lovely little bit of singletrack road running between fields on my way to & from work that's very calming to ride down. It's particularly pleasant during school holidays when it's not a rat-run for the above. At night it's equally great but with a slight pitch black twist. It was scary at first to ride back down in the evenings, but my mighty lights (which have now, sadly, died) saw me through and it's now a little haven of peace & quiet between work and having to negotiate the M4's Junction 11.
Commuting got even better a couple of months ago when they installed Reading's first & only beautiful landmark very near Junction 11: a 200 foot wind turbine. Woo hoo!
(See here from the hill in Prospect Park during a very pleasant walk with Emily)
It's an massive & awe-inspiring thing to see every day and I love it. Can I just say to all the people that objected to it being built: have a rethink. It's hardly an AONB and the adjacent motorway certainly claims many more avian lives than all the turbines in the UK. Still not convinced? Muppets.
I love cycling. I wish I could do more of it and I shall: Gorrick races here I come!
And that goes for the rest of you too! Get on yer bikes and ride and remember: Two wheels good, four wheels bad! Two wheels good, four wheels bad! Two wheels good, four wheels bad!
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Le Gran Tour De Reading Au Nuit
It all started a few days ago when I discovered a pair of cranks that had been languishing in the changing room of the Waterloo Cut branch of Evans Cycles since I left over six months ago. I had lamented their supposed loss for all of those six months but what joy was realised upon their finding! I resolved to fit them to Cindy The Singlespeed Cinder Cone and ride with all swiftness.
Tonight was the night! The beautifully forged and anodised lumps of aluminium that are old skool Race Face Turbines joined in a wonderful union to Cindy...
You like the juxtaposition of purple & red? Heh heh heh...
... and we were away for a night ride in the foothills of The Chilterns and around the mighty town of Reading!
I was using my 'mighty' lights and they were almost adequate in stopping me wrapping myself around trees or skimming into massive puddles of pooey slurry.
I was hoping to absolutely scare the number twos out of myself but, while it was kinda scary to be out on a ride I knew so well, I wasn't terrified. At one point my lights died and I saw that it wasn't really that dark at all because:
cloud cover + massive light pollution = perpetual twilight
Then a gamekeeper nearly ran me over and asked me if I was lost, which further detracted from the spookiness. [1]
A blast back down The Hill Of Doom I'd just bust a lung climbing restored my mood and it was back along dark lanes for a crosstown adventure of nostalgia!
I headed towards town [2] and randomly headed East, riding some down some gooood sets of steps on the way, before resolving to go for a night time blast around Campus, as we used to do in the old days. It was great: I finally managed to scare myself by riding along a short-cut through The Wilderness that Rich & I had ridden a million time whilst late for lectures. It's scary enough in the daytime, but the shadows and looming trees meant that I kept my head down and pedalled hard this evening! [3]
A few random jumps and steps later and it was out past good ol' Wightknights Hall and back across town and home. [4] I was knackered but felt absolutely great for having spent a couple of hours in the company of just one gear.
I shall do more such rides = New Year's Resolution
(More normal blogging soon, honest guv'! Loads & loads & LOADS to catch up on in all sections...)
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Cycling, all of the day and all of the night
Done loads of cycling lately, though unfortunately none of it has been in the mud, damnit!
What I have done is plenty of scary riding and partaken in a special Team Bananaworld expedition to the mighty Isle Of Wight!
Rich & I headed over on the FastCat to Ryde a few weeks ago with rucksacks, loadsa food, a booking in a Youth Hostel and a couple of beautiful, glorious, rigid, steel Konas. Mmmm...
Rich had booked the hostel & I the transport, which should have been fine, though next time we may coordinate it better so we don't end up having accommodation booked at point ' B' after arriving on the island at point 'A'...
It should have been a nice ride across the island, but events were against us: Rich was suffering with an evil knee joint that made cycling very painful and the weather had other plans for us. We cycled directly into a South-Westerly gale, bad enough but it was driving torrential rain horizontally at us. Damp.
Got there, had HOT showers, ate, crashed out.
The next day became a Team Bananaworld: Rambling Division expedition as that darn knee didn't wanna play bikes. So walking it was!
We planned a route around West Wight and saw all the sights it has to offer. We stopped for a bite to eat:
 
(I had the cheesey rock (vegan) and Rich had the Isle Of Wight.)
And Rich made a bit of a mess of his drink:
But redeemed himself by skilfully using a map to find The Needles:
Where I had a dip in the sea:
And we posed for a couple of Team photographs:
(Unfortunately my large head/hair obscurred the whole point of this picture...)
We sang a rousing chorus of 'Jerusalem' on the walk to keep us marching, though it may have been suggested simply to stop Rich from singing his dire school song in Latin...
(Coincidentally then caught a glimpse the next day of a very Blakesque dark Satanic mill):
An amble back to the Youth Hostel and a hearty meal later and we installed ourselves in a local pub. It was full of pregnant scallies and their chavvy husbands/cousins but it was a relaxing end to a successful day.
The ryde back to Ride (d'you see what I did there?) was much easier and included some blisteringly fast road descents.
Yup, all in all a fun time was had by us on The I.O.W.! We plan to return in March for another bash at our circumisle route. Go Bananaworld!
More bike bloggage soon, including: 'Why I'm scared of cycling in Reading'
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Long overdue maintenance...
I bought a buncha new bits for the mighty Merlin workhorse when I popped back to Evans a couple of weeks back. I've been meaning to fit them for ages but haven't due to lack of arsedness.
I regretted not fitting the new tyres as I cruised into work to hear a little leak of escaping air coming from the rear wheel. I wasn't overly concerned as a puncture is easy to deal with and I hadn't had one for around 1500 miles, which is not a bad average I suppose. It got slightly worrying when I actually looked at the tyre to discover:
... a bloody great bit of rubber missing to expose the casing underneath! Thankfully these are tough tyres or we'd have had a bang-and-a-half if that had popped. I almost offered these tyres to Luke the other day: a great gift that would have been!
Decided upon a proper maintenance session in the evening and the bathroom got back in black:
My bike is extremely clean now. Well, I say "bike" but what I actually mean is that the pieces are extremely clean. At the moment it's only a 'potential' bike as it's still in many pieces in the hallway.
I should probably go to bed now so I can get up in a minute to put it together.
... but before I do I must mention a desire to go to Israel next year! Whilst it's not currently top of everyone's dream holiday destination list it does have one very appealing feature (amongst others). Yesterday all motorised transport was prohibited on the streets as it was Yom Kippur; as holy as a day can be. Apparently this is colloquially known in Israel as the "Festival of Bicycles" as people can freely and easily ride wherever they like without being hampered by cars. Israel, next year, I'm there! Not too sure about the fasting though...
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