A guide to using the road -part 1

Since commuting to work, I have picked up some of the nuances of surviving on the road. Here for your delectation, are some of the rules of the road as it appears to be attm...

Primary

Primary is a position away from the curb and nearer the middle of the lane if not the middle itself (a strong primary). Primary is designed to make drivers think twice about overtaking as well as giving you space on the left if there is an incident. Primary also keeps you away from the rubbish that collects in secondary.

According to drivers, this is done to maximise inconvenience to them and has nothing to do with ensuring safety.

Secondary

Secondary is where all the rubbish collects. Glass, stones puddles, nails, ice. On the left in the UK, it is puncture central. In addition, you have the joy of many potholes and drains to avoid as you scoot down the gutter.

Needless to say drivers love cyclists being in secondary as they can overtake at any speed and at anytime and if you fall onto the pavement as you have nowhere it go, well…

Of course there is a third positional option but that is only in the fevered mind of certain road users...

Tertiary

The cycle lane

Secondary is where councils mainly place their cycle paths. These pieces of magic paint, be it a whole block colour or a white line, are designed to make drivers happy that you are not part of the road. The magic paint will protect you as juggernauts thunder past you, millimetres from your elbow. In addition, a cycle lane is the perfect place to park if you are a delivery man or just popping down the shops whether there are parking restrictions or a solid white line.

4    The cycle path

A path separated from the road. Again, sometimes marked with the magic paint, these paths can be wholly on their own or cobbled together from pavements or pedestrian paths in so-called shared space.  In reality, these generally mean a hold-up as you navigate around dogs, children, plugged-in joggers, deaf geriatrics and those that will willfully ignore you. If you are polite and don’t bomb pass them, the etiquette for pedestrians when they realise you are there is to jump in fright and move directly into the path you are cycling just to terrify themselves again. The cycle path comes in many useful areas and spaces to allow councils to meet targets.

Image courtesy of Crap cycle lanes of Croydon

Some drivers love the cycle path as it will allow them to gesticulate angrily at a cycle path when they see you on the road, thus providing a useful outlet for the stress of the rush-hour commute.

Part two next....

On the road....

So where to go on my first rides? I am fortunate enough to live in an area where Hampton Court and the towpath are easily available as well as some lovely country lanes after a mile so there was a good amount of safe riding for the returnee bear.

Safe riding…Safe riding can be pretty easy to do, but don’t think that going onto an off-road cycle path equates to safe riding.

No-one tells you about those little rats pretending to be dogs, yapping away, leaping into your path in a misguided belief that because they can bark/yap and have teeth they are as good a killer as a staffie from the worst estates.

Neither does anyone tell you about the kids bounding out in front of you, the elderly walker around the corner, the trendy 20-somethings that are walking along a riverside pub in the glow of an advertisement-led life blocking the entire bleeding path.

And no-one tells you about other cyclists.

Like all humans, cyclists are random, chaotic beasts prone to braking suddenly or veering out in front of you as they cope with hazards ahead of them or just because. 

Some are slow, some are ridiculously quick, some jump lights others have a cup of tea and chat as they wait for the lights to change – OK, I made that one up but some do take an extraordinary length of time to get going. 

Did I say others were slow?

No-one warned me that after 25 years of non-cycling how damn slow I was going to be.

I thought I was going fast until the first of many roadies bombed past me up the Portsmouth Road into Kingston.

Swish, swish, swish as they zoom past, inches from your elbow, leaving you no space at all.

You get your energy on, yahoo, let’s go. You push your pedals, heart picks up the beat, you see them getting nearer and nearer, you can do this. Push, push, push. Look! You’re catching them up, you can do this…

Oh, it’s a red light.

They pose in their expensive lycra, sitting on their 1kg carbon-fibred, racing frames, sipping out of their ergonomically designed bidons (water bottles to you and me), chewing their sports snack, without a care in the world.

Me?

Heart a-pumping, more sweat than the London Marathon, slumped over the handlebars, looking straight ahead in the hope that I am not noticed…

To be honest, some still do bomb past me, but I am a bear on a bicycle going at around 14mph on a gravel bike, and that will suit me.

It is quite weird having someone swishing past you at first and you quickly learn to carry out life-savers – that look around behind you to see what’s going on – for other cyclists as well as cars after all, there’s only so much swearing you can put up with.

There seems to be one particular type that comes out at the weekend. I think you can tell the difference between them and those that cycle every day. It's like what an old ex-army friend of mine used to reckon. He reckoned he could tell the difference between the weekend warrior and regular soldier just by looking at them – it’s an attitude.

They sit on their expensive machines, in their club or Sky tops, and they grimace around Surrey. I swear, they are not using their legs, it’s pure pain and rage. They throw empty bottles onto the road, leave empty gas canister and inner tubes in the road, they are angry. They should be at the top. They should be in the Tour de France. They should be a contender.

Either that or they should really be in therapy.

One other thing that people don’t warn you about is when you are behind one of these wannabes, one of these weekend wheelie warriors…

Spit.

There you are, minding your own business, happy with the pace you are going when a huge globule of phlegm comes flying its way towards your face…not nice.

And do you want to know how to freak out some of those grimacing their way around North Surrey or the Yorkshire dales, etc? Smile out them. Wave. Look like you are really enjoying your ride, even if, as an unfit bear, you are ten to twenty miles in, your legs feeling like jelly and you just wished you had stayed in bed that morning. Just smile. Say hello, wave. Freak them out by reminding them that cycling can be a happy thing as well.  

And for good measure, go on one of the forums and complain how no one smiles back or says hello. Everyone loves reading about that sort of thing... (actually don’t, that was a joke).