Monday, 23 June 2008


I didn't expect to be writing another post so soon, but something just struck me as I sat having the aforementioned pint(s) of Abbot at my local.

Having been for a very satisfying bike ride, and then just enjoying the feeling of a couple of drinks, I pictured myself back on the bike. Suddenly, thanks to a relative sense of distance from my earlier exertions, the whole concept of cycling struck me as utterly bizarre: sitting - balancing - on a metal frame with wheels and expending a hell of a lot of effort and energy whilst moving at some speed. Now part of this weirdness is the sheer physics of the situation - which I shan't go into since I don't have the mastery of the language required - but that weirdness is very much there, and seems to create a sense of precariousness to say the least.

The other aspect of it is that of the seemingly total lunacy of braving, over the course of a couple of hours, elderly drivers who don't see you as they pull out of parking spaces; idiots on mobile phones who will cut across junctions on the wrong side of the road; people of any given age who will happily pull out of a junction not expecting you to be so close since you're on a bike and are surely going so much slower than anything else that moves; people who think that around 40cm is sufficient space to give you as they overtake.

I could list many more. Such as the twat who trailed behind me for a mile or so on a straight road, where it was safe to pass me at any point, but who then decided to overtake only when I signalled to turn right.

Averaged out, I've been out on a bike ride for between 90 minutes and 2 hours, at least once a week so far this year. Given the sheer hazards as outlined above, you'd have thought I'd have packed it in by now; either that or I'd have been killed or severely maimed at least.

Then I weigh that up against the enjoyment and fulfilment I get from it (including shouting expletives at the types just described), and I can't see me stopping any time soon.

Odd, isn't it?


Merkin said...

You are 'chancin' yer luck', big man.

zola a social thing said...

Try a dildo seat.
Ohhh..oooo my prescarious....

clinical therapist said...

No wonder the weirdos wanna say hello and smell the seat.

trousers said...

merk, today I bought one of those florescent things to use as an armband, to give me extra visibility. Seemed a sensible thing to do.

zola, will it help, or is it just something you'd recommend?

Merkin said...

Oh shit, just had another vision.
You and Zola and The Krankies and Liz Smith and Wee Dermot from The Arthur Hayne's Show all cycling in unison to meet Ray Mears and Prada Girl at the top of some Peak District mound receiving the Olympic Torch from some Chinese guy disguised as AntiCant.

I don't know which is worse, the thought of AntiCant disguised as a Foo-Man-Choo or Zola being in the midst.

Sorry, will get me stash, hic.

trousers said...

I see that this post turned out to be very appropriately titled, merk!

Scary and hilarious stuff, and not too far in some respects from how my own mind works (though for the most part I've somehow managed to keep such weirdness out of my blog posts :) )