Muzzies, Mods & Movies...

I was meandering through Flickr the other evening when I happened upon a very fetching blue steel Marin Pine Mountain complete with moustache bars. Voluptuous; though not to extremes, its On-One Mungo stirred a yearning to revise the Univega’s cockpit. Generally endeared to the existing WTB/Salsa configuration that offers commendable rigidity and control in most contexts, said swooping revision might reduce fatigue on longer runs.

Cursory inspection suggests they may also demand a loftier, stubbier stem (35 or 40mm) and longer cables, since controls sit further forward. Hence, contact point popped in one’s virtual basket, I went foraging for a 35 degree 60cm version of their 3D stem but to no avail. Still, something’s bound to materialise when I’m least expecting it-watched inboxes and all that…    

While working on a winter-prep piece for a new, soon to launch publication, the Teenage 

Dream’s rear Miche dual pivot calliper developed an unexplained, intermittent binding habit. Short, liberal blasts of maintenance spray to the springs and inner housings failed to exorcise this demon, hence cable replacement and Sugru detailing, which has silenced irksome bottle chatter/tenure, especially across inclement surfaces. Incompetent, negligent people are one of my greatest bugbears, not least when they’re operating one ton plus of steel.

At approximately 11am on Tuesday (15^th July), I was negotiating a series of tight bends on the return leg of an hours’ blast when a cobalt blue Audi (BF12 XCV) swept past with inches to spare before wantonly swerving into our path. Water off the proverbial duck’s back in many respects but still decidedly unsettling. I am also fairly certain he was trying to provoke a response and that there was “just cause” for this behaviour- been laid off/ passed over for promotion/lost a bet/partner said “no”.

Two riders travelling in the opposite direction confirmed he appeared to point the vehicle squarely at them. Being wary of falling into the pop psychology trap, anecdotally it appears an increasing minority of drivers just seem to have psychotic tendencies and can largely behave as they please since road traffic legislation is extremely lenient and the authorities reticent to act. (“He was asking for it your honour, dressed in those tricolour (blue/white/black) bib shorts”)

Studies undertaken by the motor/cycling press some twenty odd years previously suggest there is something in the psyche of some drivers that regards “enthusiast” riders a challenge to be duelled with- put in their place perhaps?

You Tube hosts countless encounters and I can fully appreciate why. Well timed-explosive yells are an excellent release of tension, though red rag and bull spring to mind when some wronged riders advise said behaviour is being filmed and shortly uploaded to said medium. I miss not having a decent helmet camera-not for policing others behaviours but capturing rides in their full glory.

My last purchase was decidedly disappointing, not in terms of image but rather, build quality and manufacturer indifference. Essentially, I should’ve spent more, rather than invest in a discontinued line. Go Pro’s Hero is very much a benchmark and with good reason, though Garmin Virb Elite looks capable of delivering comparable performance for a few dollars less. Impulse buying is something I strive to avoid, although am apparently unable to resist silicone blinkies.

Bought these three from a Chinese supplier for £1.25 each, only to discover faulty switches-powering down necessitates battery removal. Thankfully, this new range of commuter lights from a well-known distributor based in derby has just arrived. Now to find an illustrator for my children’s stories and some models for another project…  

    

Coming Together

The kind folks at Ison distribution www.ison-distribution.com generously dropped me two of these lovely Genetic (Campag homage) seat post binder bolts yesterday (19 and 22mm just in case). Seizing the moment, I gently manipulated the frame’s ears, applied some composite friendly grease to bolt and post before introducing said components at their correct nm. Some folk still regard torque wrenches as a new-fangled luxury but in my book, lying prone in A&E while an overworked and undervalued nurse plucks shards from one’s buttocks is extremely undignified and totally unnecessary. Emblazoning my moniker along its top tube, fiddly bits are finished and with freshly herded goodies, my ferrous friend can resume secure hibernation until spring while I address pressing business matters and chart long, slippery outings aboard suitably dressed Ilpompino and Univega.

The deskilling debate has been hotly contested in many quarters with equally compelling contradiction. Traditionally this has referred to the labour market, primarily in relation to automation and manual labour. However, it appears increasingly prevalent in other spheres. I was somewhat gobsmacked to hear a police (traffic) officer remark that once someone has successfully passed their driving test; they are by default competent and capable users of the public highway (!) This contradicts widespread driving instructor/examiner conviction that such assessments are simply to ascertain someone is safe to be allowed to operate said vehicle(s) unaccompanied.

London’s seamier districts have always been awash with the unlicensed/uninsured and otherwise illegal drivers. However, toward the end of my twelve years spent navigating the capital on two-wheels, standards of PSV (Public Service Vehicles) operation had become obviously dilute to counteract declining numbers. This new breed of operator often substituted skill and courtesy with a deadly cocktail of elephantine ignorance and aggression toward smaller craft. I even recall the story of one, high on cocaine and deciding his passengers would benefit from a more scenic commute through suburban Kingston-Upon Thames (!)

Far from engaging “Victim” mode, I’m advocating for the re-establishment of “Road craft” whereby we have a collective responsibility to adopt a sense of greater humility, while continuously developing our skills and shedding this corrosive them/us tribalism. Aside from the (very real) fear of their driveway resembling a motorcycle salvage yard, my parents weren’t the least bit hysterical about a strange and irrational interest in middleweight motorcycles running in parallel with that of lightweight bicycles. Rather, they preferred to stress the importance of having a car licence-if for no other reason than to appreciate driver perspective and therefore, perceive potential hazards before they arose. Bottom line, I’m pro cycles but only have a pronounced allergy to stupid/ignorant/myopic humans, whether they be commanding car/van/bus/truck/horse/yak or indeed motor/cycle.

Against this backdrop, I am slightly perturbed by the notion of the UK’s sixteen year olds being able to drive unaccompanied on public roads, albeit behind the wheel of a heavily restricted vehicle. Now (before I’m mown down by an entourage of irate parents defending the civil liberties of their offspring) this has always been possible here under P class-trikes powered by engines no larger than 50cc. I can also appreciate why these micro-vehicles would seem preferable to little darlings terrorising commuter towns/estates astride sports mopeds, bereft of exhaust baffles (in the misguided notion such unleashes extra dobbins!) However, these do teach observation/road craft, contributing to an elevation of driver standards.

The Netherlands and to a lesser extent, Denmark are hailed as pinnacles of achievement when it comes to systems of integrated transport but in common with other social phenomenon, notions of being able to prune and re-pot in the UK is extremely naïve, failing to recognise the pronounced differences in public psyche.

Now, time I was charging some high power commuter lights and replenishing tired AAA cells, lest I fall foul of the fuzz, or worse still, become a statistic on tonight’s moonlit meander.    

Graveyard Shift

Unseasonably low temperatures and weather fronts failed to relent through March and into April, so its been winter tights, booties, gloves, buffs and base layers as I’ve reclaimed the night. Sweeping through abandoned lanes between midnight and 2am unleashes a new dimension in riding pleasure and a genuinely better sense of perspective on life. Keyboard duties recommence at 9am until early evening whereupon a few TV/social breaks prove welcome.

Thus far, it’s done wonders for my mood and productivity. I’ve always found darkness the best time for evaluating bikes and equipment since it neutralises prejudice as we are guided by our senses. Riding blind, oblivious to whether a brifter is top flight or entry level gives a far more objective assessment of real world performance- I’ve often been surprised by how well budget components perform, even under some decidedly harsh contexts. Lower end derailleurs are a good choice for winter/daily drivers. First and foremost, they're relatively inexpensive to replace in the event of a bad spill and secondly, help disguise a bike's true worth from speculative thieves. 

Horsham based Atomic 22 sent me their revised tribe system, which are a set of sophisticated locking fasteners employing a unique key and can be “grown” to protect every component –including seat bolts, dropout hangers, bottle screws, quill stems and solid axles too. Precision made from aircraft grade titanium/stainless steel, they resist all the common forms of attack and go a long way to deterring the sort of crime where bikes are stolen, broken for spares and sold on through ebay/craigslist/gumtree etc. However, this doesn’t absolve the need for intelligent deployment of stout locks, location and street furniture.  

Took a drive down to Justin Burls the other week for a weapon’s inspection-for the benefit of global authorities, we’re talking titanium and beautifully brazed steel bicycle frames, not surface to air missiles or similar warheads. He’s been designing titanium frames with Torus bicycles and was keen to show me some new enamel badges and similarly exciting arrivals. www.burls.co.uk www.torusbicycles.co.uk/    

Testament to these exacting standards is “Old Faithful”; his first bespoke frameset dressed in the classic winter attire-old groupsets, Salmon Profil mudguards and smatterings of road salt. Those Rosso red two-pac painted Columbus tubes still ooze a quiet, timeless seductive refinement some fifteen years or so on. 

Cold doesn’t bother me per se, although I’m looking forward to some milder weather in order I can put these Revolution “tack” three quarter length baggies through their paces without donning extra long socks as a matter of absolute necessity. Statistically 3am is reckoned to be the most dangerous time to be navigating the road network, irrespective of vehicle (I’m usually cocooned in my duvet, cruising through the land of nod at this point in proceedings) but that aside, the standards of road craft demonstrated by some is terrifying, more so, the sense of bad driving being  a rite of passage and perfectly acceptable.

BBC three’s “Barely Legal Drivers” followed three sets of late teen/early twenty- something drivers who’s elephantine arrogance/ignorance goes a long way to explaining why insurance premiums are so high and accidents increasingly fatal. However, I was more gob smacked by  parental attitudes, which were largely accepting/condoning of excessive speeding, drunk/ hands-free driving (Oh bless, they’re clapping in time with the music). 

Seemingly desperate to reward their undisciplined offspring regardless, I strongly suspect said parents would blame a cyclist/motorcyclist or indeed another driver for being on the road in the event of a collision “S/he’s not at fault- you only have yourself to blame”.

Conscious of this drifting toward a tirade, my feeling is that we must all strive to continuously improve our road craft, irrespective whether we happen to be piloting a 15lb bicycle or fifteen tonne arctic.