Lovely couple of days 'faux commuting' ; I only managed it twice last week; aiming for three mornings this week.
No wind. No rain. Glorious sunshine. Only marred slightly by motons doing moton things. Overtaken twice turning right today. Overtaken by a young female white corsa driver yesterday who then immediately slowed down hard, forcing me to do the same, to make a right turn. Third time she's done that in the exact same place on the estate which I live.
This time I gave chase and caught her up as she stopped to pick up a male passenger. "Excuse me, could I have a quick word please", I started.
The window was opened, she did not say a word, but the male passenger started effing and jeffing. I said my piece, loud enough so I could be heard over whatever toxicity was spewing out of the male passengers mouth, "That's the third time you've done that in the exact same place. Please don't overtake on approach to and so close to a junction, it's dangerous." - the driver didn't say a word. She just picked up her vape (which was held between her knees) and sucked on it. The passenger started to get out of the car. The vape was quickly put down and she started to drive off. I parted with "Drive according to the terms and conditions of your license" ... for all it was worth. Not much, I expect.
I don't normally bother these days, but that area gets quite busy as it's near a school and I felt it was worth trying to have a word if she is going to obviously continue doing the same thing.
That sucks; it's disappointing to be reminded of some of the pondlife we're forced to share the world with.
Well done for having the balls to say something - it takes a lot for me to actually stop and engage in a calm, rational manner with the default usually being to hurl entirely unfilted abuse from afar..
One thing I would question is how people are managing to overtake when you wish to turn right - this suggests that you're not taking the lane; unless they're actually crossing the white line to get past which makes it even less acceptable as it leave it in no doubt that you're trying to turn.
FWIW if turning I check over my shoulder and if there's nothing too close signal and while continuing to do so move to my right into the road. If it's wide enough I'll hug the centreline to give traffic behind the opportunity pass, if it's narrow I'll remain in the centre of the carriageway to prevent vehicles trying to squeeze past..
Record, retreat, report. Engaging with such as this is rarely worthwhile.
Great advice in principle; less-so in practice if you're hot-headedness requires and immediate outlet and actually expect reporting it to achieve anything meaningful..
Yesterday was a big one by commute standards. To start we had about 10.5 miles on the previously covered extended ride in while lunchtime brought the need to visit a client just down the road for another threeish miles; complete with visit to the Cowley space cat:
By the end of the working day the sun had come out but it was pretty muggy. I took a long, meandering route towards my appointment with the rings; nearly getting run over on St. Aldates by some dozy trout turning across me in a Tesla who seemed entirely unconcerned as she came to an abrupt stop a couple of feet away from me. I'm not sure if this was her doing or the result of the car's collision detection... either way I don't think she should have been driving and I lament not stopping to have made more of a point of this.
Coming out the other end of the city I passed through Jericho which is seeing some comprehensive re-surfacing work..
My non-existant faith in humanity was slightly buoyed to find that someone had taken the time to fashion a narrow little gravel ramp for cyclists at one of the steps cut in the road, while I got a nice smile from an attractive older lady sat outside the Bookbinders pub in the sun
I'd also had cause to stop at the lights on St. Giles next to a couple of folks on road bikes, so endulged in the now-familiar amusement of watching them accelerate away before catching and passing them at speed further out; the absurdity of which never fails to entertain my simple mind..
I finally arrived at the park to find the bars being put to good use by two intimidatingly muscular blokes; so I continued past and onto port meadow for some tame gravel action to Wolvercote.
Heading back towards the tow path I found the road bridge to be closed; for little obvious reason that would be a hinderance to anyone on two wheels..
I doubled back along to tow path to find the two same blokes at the bars, although this time not using them. After confirming this and having a decent chat I set up the rings and they wandered off to do other stuff elsewhere in the park. Was nice to have a chat with some randoms and despite the fact they were both properly stacked they were positive and encouraging of my limp, podgy middle-aged efforts; which was appreciated
I just about completed my sets which felt good; although I'd missed Monday's session due to the rain and exhaustion.
Really didn't feel like going home to return to the prison of my own head so turned back towards town on the tow path. I squiggled about for a while, lamenting the lack of drinks menu on the outside of the pubs as I'd probably have stopped for a non-alcoholic cocktail or similar if I could identify somewhere that served them.
Ended up sat on the Martyrs' memorial on St Giles, watching the world go by.. including a contingent of "important" people apparently heading to the Randolph for dinner, judging by the police-escorted convoy of black soft-roaders and minibusses that rolled up outside the hotel and blocked the traffic for a while.. EDIT: I suspect this is something to do with the global summit that's occurring just down the road at Blenheim..
I still didn't feel like going home so headed aimlessly back out eastish - absolutely smashing it down the high street and over Magdalen bridge; goaded on relentlessly by
Dom and Roland's epic Cigars and Money. For these fleeting moments I felt absolutely fantastic and it was great to really be putting some effort it; quads burning, arms and back taught as I pulled myself hard into the noodly bars to react the force going into the pedals. Strava suggests I topped out at around 25mph, which doesn't seem bad for a Brompton on the flat and I think is a casual PR
By the time I reached Headington hill I'd evidently still not had enough so hit it hard up there too. near the bottom I was slowly catching another chap on a Brompton and had hoped for a bit of positive interaction - instead I watched the hill break him; first switching from the cycle lane to the path then getting off and walking. He got a nod and cheeky grin as I wound myself past out of the saddle; which didn't seem particularly welcome.
Once I'd turned around a bit further up to head down towards Marston - on once-familiar lanes that used to constitute my commute to uni - I passed said bloke coming the other way who completely blanked me - am I the only Brompton owner who actually feels any brand camaraderie for other riders? It seems like for the most part "we" are a bunch of miserable sods
The sun continued to set as I passed through Marston...
... before hitting the fantastic path through uni parks back towards the city.
Yes, that chap was randomly dancing like an absolute fiend. I assume it was a case of "banging tunes / mental illness / drugs - pick two"; regardless of the reasons he seemed to be having a great time and I could totally relate with the jungle I was pumping into my own ears as I passed
Once back in town with the light fading I finally accepted my fate and pushed north towards the car; my efforts and the sublime soundtrack of
Adam F's Circles finally bringing waves of euphoria and a few fleeting moments of sheer bliss as I rolled towards home.
Last night's mincing totalled about 24 miles for a sum of around 38 for the day; which I think is the most I've done on the Brompton.. the bike again affording me an invaluable opportunity to both avoid the hateful traffic and get some much needed saddle time around the city
