Winds have changed, whisper in the trees

One of my favourite sayings is this: "These are my principles, if you don't like them, I have others". OK, it's a joke, but it has a serious point behind it too. I hope I'm never so inflexible and dogmatic that I can't be persuaded or change or evolve my opinion on something. You can sense what is coming can't you?

Skip and I agreed to go for a recovery ride today, it was planned to be a very flat run out to Fairyland for good coffee and trivial conversation. But there was a cold north-easterly blowing, and I hate coming back on the flat into the teeth of that. Especially when I'm a bit tired. Holiday? Just glad I left my Blackberry in England these last few days, I'm an addict. I'll have to bury it under the patio like Mandy Jordache.

Remember her? Along with having TV's first lesbian daughter, she was the soap character who finally did for her abusive husband with a kitchen knife, after weed killer and paracetamol had failed to do him in. A definite case of murder, with the husband's body under the said patio they nearly got away with it, and it was not pesky kids but a leaky pipe that sent her to prison.

So most of our conversation was trivial, light, fun, but somehow we drifted onto the death penalty for murderers. I don't know much, but it ain't trivial. And whilst I'm prepared to listen to your opinion or principles, all the logical arguments in the world won't sway me on this one. Killing people is wrong. For anyone.

So we didn't go to Glastonbury, we went all over the place instead, mainly looking for an open cafe. But we avoided the busy roads and chatted about this and that, and all in all it was a good ride.

Skip has done a great blog on the ride, which featured lots of chat, a disappointing chocolate cake, my third new cafe in under two months (how many are there in North Somerset?) and a great ascent of Burrington Coombe.

http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201102

It turned out surprisingly hilly too, how did that happen? With the Mad March Hare running on Sunday, I better get some sleep. Which is not what my friend the boss will be getting, that happens when a child is born, so lots of love to little Elizabeth Hope and her parents. xx

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/70647951

You pulled me out of the past and landed me in today

Day 2, and while Thursday was mostly riding in the Republic with a bit in Northern Ireland, today, or rather last Friday, was the other way around. The howling wind, more like a hurricane if you ask me, was still present, if anything it was even stronger. A few rain clouds were threatening and I was very glad I had changed my tyres the night before.

When I first took Kona over to Ireland last October I had left the old 25mm tyres that had been present since I did LEJOG. In 2009. A lot of miles ago. Given that I had fallen off last October, and an innocuous piece of road, and that the tyres were now more square that round in profile, I decided to fit a couple of new 23mm ones. Bingo! The old tyres pretty much fell off, with no levers needed, and it didn't take too much effort to fit the new ones either.

So less rolling resistance and better cornering, what more did I need? Well a tailwind would be nice, and I did eventually get one. But not till the second half of the ride, and after i had battled down a flat(ish) south-westerly road for an hour and a half.

I could also have done with a few more cyclists about town. I had noticed they are few and far between in Derry city, even at rush hour on Thursday I saw hardly any. This is different for me as Bristol is crawling with them, and I think this makes things safer. It was pretty clear that the drivers had no idea what to do when faced with a road cyclist doing 15-20 mph on their streets. It wasn't hostile, it was lack of experience or ability to judge my speed that caused them to pass too close or over take in all the wrong places.

Once out in the country it was a bit better, and the roads are a lot quieter than in Britain. I headed to Strabane, home of three of the West Tyrone Brigade I mentioned yesterday, all killed in an ambush by the security forces back in the eighties, on the road I cycled on out towards Plumbridge. All very, very young men, killed for something they believed in, but still, what a waste? A beautiful road it was too, the natural beauty of the hills interrupted by the strange beauty of the wind turbines. I don't really hold with ghosts, but I can imagine that if there are such things there would be a lot of them in those desolate places.

It was lovely cycling country again though, up into the Sperrin Mountains. Steep climbs were interspersed with steep, but largely straight, descents. There was some light drizzle coming from the side now as I headed east, but the roads were very quiet and the country became wilder and wilder. The original plan had involved a slightly longer trip to Cranagh, but I was up against the requirements of a family function, so, running out of time, I turned for home at Plumbridge.

I can't wait for an opportunity to cycle some longer climbs out that way in the summer, when hopeful it will be warmer and drier. But don't bank on it. I now had the wind at my back on a long gradual descent all the way to the obviously-named town of New Buildings, apparently a loyalist hotspot, if the kerb stones are anything to go by. I know these things are about identity and tribal territorial markers, and I also know I don't know the culture of the place like my wife does. But, I'd love to know how they organise that kind of thing, is there a New Buildings Pavement painting group?

Later on that night I watched a programme on the Irish TV station, RTE, during which one commentator said that the Irish reaction to difficulty is one of three options:

1. Apathy
2 Moaning
3. Pick up a gun

I actually think she's missed the fact that the people of Ireland did something amazingly constructive and brave when they forged the Good Friday Agreement, but then I don't understand the culture do I?

I was now on the final blast back up the main road to the city, over the Craigavon bridge and back to Culmore. 57 miles and I enjoyed it tremendously. If anyone wants to come with me to enter the Inishowen 100 sportive on 14 August, let me know, it will be fantastic.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/70439335

In the cracked streets trampled underfoot

In terms of community background, 53.1% of the Northern Irish population came from a Protestant background, 43.8% came from a Catholic background.

What is your first response to that demographic fact? Does it stir opinions or emotions in you? No? How about kerb stones painted red, white and blue? Or murals on the walls of the end of a terrace, commemorating the deaths of Charles Breslin, Michael Devine and David Devine of the West Tyrone brigade of the IRA? Or even roads that are so windy and rural, that you can't tell if you are in the North, that is further south than the South, or the South, that is further north than the South.

Once again I was cycling in Ireland, or Northern Ireland or both. Heaven knows how sensitive I need to be. I could have written a post all about the cycling, and be patient, I'll get to it. But it's not often that you get to cycle in two national jurisdictions on two consecutive days, and when one of them is having an election, where the most of the parties derive their origins from a dispute most of us have either forgotten, or never really wanted to remember.

See how careful I have to be with the words? It's a place where in years gone by, having the wrong name in the wrong street would have got you into trouble, serious trouble. But it's also a place that had a bloody and vicious war for nigh on 30 years and they euphemistically called it "The Troubles". Doesn't sound too serious?

At a family party about 10 years back, one of my brothers-in-law, meaning well, drunkenly told me "I don't care if you are English you're part of this family". What do you do with that? Incidentally at the same party, another brother-in-law drunkenly said something much ruder. But then, they had also grown up in the seventies, and while I was playing Subbuteo or three and in, they were playing with rocks and bottles and it wasn't much of a game.

United by a different language, that's often said about us and the Americans. Well I can tell you on the back of 17 years experience, and much study of history, it should be said of us and the Irish.

So, the cycling. It's gorgeous. Blooming marvellous, perhaps some of the most beautiful scenery around-just have a look at that photo! Once again I started from Culmore and headed north, over the border into the Republic, up the coast to Muff. No jokes at the back. Then it was up, and up into the hills and over the top to Buncrana. Last time I came this way the long downhill stretch was full of ice so it was quite nice to bomb down the slope. The wind though was starting to play its part, howling off the sea from the South-West. As I turned into it and headed down the eastern shore of Lough Swilly I knew I was in for a treat. It was one of those days you have to pedal to get down hills, and long for a climb to give you a bit of shelter.

My speed was not helped by stopping all the time to take some photos, nor by glancing at all the Election posters of the various political parties. And there are a lot of parties and a lot of candidates. On Thursday I was in the Donegal North-East seat, and most of the candidates faces looked very sombre and serious, befitting the seriousness of an 85 billion Euro debt I suppose.

One Sinn Fein candidate was smiling though (perhaps it helped), and he was later elected along with one each from Fianna Fail and Fine Gael. And in case you are confused about what they all stand for, I wouldn't worry too much, the general consensus would seem to be that the IMF is running the country anyway. Gael was certainly apt in all senses of the world, political storm, check, financial hurricane, yes. Vicious cycling headwind, most definitely.

One sign of the times was the huge number of empty but brand new houses at the roadside. The housing market has collapsed along with the financial market, and pretty much any other market you can think of.

Eventually I swung away from the flat and up into the hills again, after a short detour over the border into the North then back into the South. I was heading for an Iron Age hill fort called Grianan :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grianan_of_Aileach

It is also the name of my shed, but that is another story. It's owned by the Office of Public Works (the fort not my shed) and has a commanding position overlooking the Maiden city (careful with words again!) as well as Loughs Swilly and Foyle. The final half mile of the climb was brute, on a paved access road up to the car park. By now it was a howling gale with rain approaching from the Atlantic, I concentrated on getting back to my temporary home as fast as I could.

It was a fairly long descent down into the town, through the Creggan estate, and towards the Promenade. Although peace has been present for over a decade, I'm generally careful about talking to people, my accent marking me out straight away. But one schoolgirl got a dose of Anglo-Saxon when she stepped out without looking, right into my path on a city centre descent. Good job too, I was doing 30 mph and she would not have missed me if I hadn't.

Finally with the wind at my back I made it out of town back to Culmore and completed 40 miles. The wind and climbing played havoc with the speed, and having been up at 4.30AM for the flight over, I was not at my best. Still an enjoyable ride though.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/70439269

Won't you tell me something true

I have turned over a new leaf. It happened Friday night, only I was so tired and spaced out that I forgot to write about it then. I have even posted about it on Facebook, where I am a member of the Save a Cyclist campaign. I had been training the subject of "Emotional Intelligence" on Friday, along with a short piece about Assertive behaviour, so it must have dawned on me to try some of it myself. You know the old maxim-"Do what you've always done and you'll get what you always got"? Well all the anger and shouting didn't seem to be helping.

I've also been watching a series of lectures on BBC4 about political philosophy, I think called "Justice", they are given by a Harvard Professor of political philosophy. Is it ever right, morally to lie? That was the question last week. The truth I think is that people can not be made to see the truth but they will believe a lie if they want to. The truth will only ever be found when you decide to seek it for yourself. Once you see it, you can never stop.

So whilst my instant, human reactions my be understandable, even justifiable for some, I decided to thank a motorist for their considerate driving. I was coming down Brockley Coombe, which is a fairly twisty and dark road at the best of times. Even with my lights I was having to take the corners pretty wide, and most cars were doing their usual Friday night thing. Cutting too close as they overtook, or dazzling me with full beams as they came towards me. Neither of which is helpful when you are doing 30 mph on a dark, damp, road with nice sharp corners.

But one lady didn't. She waited, at a safe distance behind me. Let me get to the bottom, didn't rev her engine or anything. So I pulled alongside her and thanked her at the traffic lights at the junction. And today I made a point of thanking every driver who waited, either coming towards us, or behind us, and do my best to ignore the idiots. Kindness is the way. We will spread good driving across the highways and byways of Britain through our smiles, waves and gratitude. I'll just need a few reminders from my friends now and then if you don't mind.

Back to today, I met Skip and the Liberator in Axbridge for a fairly, but not exclusively hilly ride:

http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201102

It felt hilly because it included the Gorge and Wrington Hill, the nasty one with the really steep section towards the bottom. But I actually did more climbing on the commute on Friday, albeit over a slightly longer route. It was also really nice to go to yet another new cafe, the one in Kingston Seymour, which everyone is always talking about but I'd somehow missed out on. The Liberator was also, pleasingly, fascinated by Charlie Garmin's functionality, although Charlie let the side down by throwing a technology tantrum. We never did get to Ham Lane to see the water buffalo (yes really).

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/69249233

One thing all that elevation did do was give me the opportunity to clock the fastest point speed so far this year, at 43.8mph as I came down a slightly damp Burrington Coombe. I need new tyres and I think brake blocks may be good too.

I'm back over to Ireland on Thursday, hoping to fit in two rides, possibly with another cycling club. We'll see how brave I feel and what the weather does. And I'm taking new tyres over there too, in the hope of staying on the bike this time.

It's been a long cold lonely winter

This is a weird situation. I'm listening to a live stream of U2 from Johannesburg (singing Amazing Grace segueing into Streets Have no name right now)as I'm typing this, I'm finally on holiday from work (two weeks, what will I do with myself? No, don't answer) and very, very very tired.

I rode to work today:

http://connect.garmin.com/player/68893656

Long Lane, Dundry, Airport, hills, nearly 3k feet of climbing which I was surprised with, but Charlie wouldn't lie, would he?

And back. It was fun, and despite the slight damp, drizzle and early morning/late evening dark, which slowed me down a bit on the descent of Brockley Coombe, spring is coming. "Here comes the sun" I thought, as I crested Long Lane near Wrington, and arrived at work in proper daylight. There are daffodils and crocuses shooting up through the stony ground.

Better things are coming. Believe. Forget THEM, soon the world will be a better place, and not just because u2 are sweeping over me, or because I'm on holiday, or because I'm going to Ireland, or even because the Spring is coming and we are riding some sportives TOGETHER Skip, you better believe that so keep up because neither of us are going to hang around, we are going to kick arse.

No the world is going to be a better place because it just will be. Have some faith please at the back.

That's enough from the soap box, I'm going to get something to eat now. We are riding Sunday so I better get some sleep too.

Where is the hope, where is the faith?

Did you ever watch "Thirtysomething"? It was an American TV drama series first broadcast in the early nineties. I used to watch it, and I thought those east-coast Yankee advertising chaps, with their endless insights into the human condition, were so cool and sophisticated. I longed to earn their wisdom, be erudite like them, and have an urbane yet strangely folksy life. The most inspiring character was one protagonist's wife, cannily named "Hope". Symbolising all the optimism that latched onto the show in the period it was set, post Berlin-wall tumbling, and pre 9/11.

Thing is, I caught a re-run of it yesterday afternoon, as I slumbered in front of my TV, channel-hopping and trying to forget that the weather was fantastic outside. I watched with some fascination before I realised it was not an episode I had missed. What a load of self-indulgent pretentious clap-trap. Who were these inexperienced naive fools. You see, it wasn't the programme that had changed, or even the zeitgeist (well, not that much). And it isn't truly fair to say that it's me that has changed either (as I am still full of plenty of the afore-mentioned clap-trap, and quite proud of it), although of course I have lost my top-end speed.

Because cynical, naive, idealistic, optimistic, hard-hearted, empathic, even plain old nice, these are the words we use to judge another's perspective. I am round the back of the outbuildings, putting a tarpaulin on the leaky shed of life (see, I told you), whereas back in the nineties, I still thought it was all about getting a flash car and climbing the ladder.

All of this is a long-winded answer to a question I was asked last week, and no I'm not angry anymore, after all what's the point?

Today, the official Axbridge Cycling Group went sailing to Glastonbury. It was wet, I was about a stone heavier, in accumulated water, when I got home compared to when I left, and a layer of skin has been air-blasted from my face by the wind. At one point cruising, no make that battling, across the levels we were pedalling like crazy on the flat and still only doing about 13 mph. On the same stretch on the way back we topped 22 mph, thus statistically calibrating the gale's impact.

It was a bit of a two way split at times, between Boots, Boy Wonder and I in one group, and Skip and M (name to follow when I've thought about it), I think I caught the latter two talking about shopping at one point. Boots and I actually managed to drop Boy Wonder in the headwind, but once the return leg came there was no catching him as usual, even when I tried to sneak up on him. Still got his top-end speed see.

My bike got its third wash in seven days too, and I had to give the chain a bit of special attention as a few bits of rust are creeping in to the crannies between the links. Once the spring comes I might treat myself to a new chain and give K-1 a service. It's been a winter with a lot of weather. Sorry about the rain, I take responsibility given my Friday comments. So far this winter we have had virtually no mild, dry, windless sunny days........if God will send his angels, it just might be something to hope for.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/68045837

Spilling over down the drain

A lot has been said and written about the Winter we are experiencing. Last time I cycled to work I thought, "man this is the coldest yet". But as I have had that thought about seven times already, I reasoned it couldn't be true. But then the next day my son told me that it had been minus 5C when he left for school an hour after I left home. So it in all probability it just may have been the coldest.

But, and you are all going to hate me now because I'm about to tempt fate, (say quietly to yourself and the weather god won't hear) "we haven't had much in the way of rain". Until today. And the next six weeks I suppose. Sorry.

The morning ride was quite pleasant, a bit of drizzle, and the roads a tad damp, but nothing untoward. On the way home I was just starting to think that the forecasters were wrong, when right on the dot of the forecasted six o'clock, the heavens opened and down came the deluge. I did my best to avoid all the traffic by going around as many back roads as I could. Spray from the cars just about finishes my morale off for the day. So although I arrived home doing a passable impersonation of a soggy towel wrapped around a drowned rat, I was at least happy.

I have devised a coping strategy to stop me getting annoyed with bad driving. As those that know me may have expected, it involves counting, categorising and recording. I've seen sense and decided not to start a spreadsheet, so FOR NOW it's just the first two. There are six categories:

1. SMIDSY incidents
2. Driving past me too close and/or too fast
3. Overtaking when it is not safe to do so
4. Failing to switch off dipped headlights
5. Use of a mobile phone while driving
6. General stupidity

The score on the way in was, 0 (pleasantly, although there was one on the way home), 3 (interestingly all white vans), 1 (the old favourite-overtaking before a traffic light on red, then slamming on the brakes, with me passing him again anyway), 3 (one for the darkness, and one of them after only a minute of cycling, likely to be less of a problem in Summer), 0, (although as half the ride was in the dark and the other half was twilight, I can't be certain) and 1 (my personal favourite, reversing at speed towards me around a bend, down a hill, after just overtaking me, to let an oncoming car through a gap).

Please feel free to adopt the protocol. I gave up counting on the way home, Friday night home time commuters are clearly in a rush to get home, whereas there was a distinct mellow feeling this morning. May have been the rain, may have been me.

Charlie stats here:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/67723562

Some good climbing practice and not bad speeds given all the conditions. My favourite road was that little cyclists-only lane around the back of Barrow Gurney. I think it's been imported from Flanders, could have done with a cross bike.

I met a very interesting cyclist this week, Jim Rees:

http://www.teaminspiration.org.uk/

More on that another time.

Enjoy the weather!

The wheels are turning but you're upside down

Today was a relatively long ride, but this is going to be a short blog. Skip has blogged it very eloquently here:

http://www.thecyclingmayor.com/?m=201102

and in any case my head is full of the same old drivel it was last week.

It was very windy, and our route took us out into the face of it for the first half and then back with a (mostly) tailwind on the way back. I am disappointed with myself for losing my rag with a man driving a car. Maybe driving is a kindly interpretation. I probably lost it because of the puncture as we were leaving Glastonbury, quite explosive it was too, on the back tyre with no apparent cause.

My tyres are a bit old as well, which has its benefits. They were a lot easier to get on and off than when I bought them, although their grip in the wet and ice has been a little suspect of late. After as much faff as I could create, involving a dodgy valve on the old and new tyre, my CO2 canister running out of fizz, my pump, Skip's pump, we were inflated and on the road again.

You can look at the route on Charlie, High Ham, Shapwick Hill, Butleigh, they're all there. Very little rain, and great cake and coffee in Glasto.Here's the route from Skip's house back to her house then back to mine.:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/66927257

By a strange quirk of technology, my route down to Skip's house (well nearly) has recorded separately here:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/66927278

I particularly like the almost continual descent for 2 miles on the elevation graph. Sad, but that's me.

I've been musing about philosophy on these pages of late. It's a well-known truism that the English don't hold with such stuff mostly, not unless they can see the practical purpose. Stereotype? Yes of course, but what is the point of having your own blog if I can't throw in the odd generalisation if the fancy takes me.

So philosophy. It is often said by them, that people most regret what they didn't do, rather than what they did. Well last week I looked down the barrel of an opportunity and decided not to pull the trigger, let the rabbit go free. Scuttling into his warren of potential. Time will tell, puddings, proof, eating and all that, but it somehow feels, yes feels, viscerally, that it was a good decision. Morally too, and you know how I love my own moral high ground.

But then today I feel as if I rolled down the hill a bit, and said a few things to that driver which did no good to anyone, and actually could have put Skip as well as myself in a tricky situation. It has to stop, cyclists will not be saved from idiot drivers by my aggressive outbursts. Human reaction it may be, but then humanity is about more than just being reactive.

Which brings me to the picture. Jules may talk about walking the earth till God puts him where he wants him to be. I'm going to stay where I am and wait for further orders. The picture is the badge of Axbridge too, and also adorns our ACG kit. So you see the synchronicity, surely?