Men in Tights

To be fair, this might be why.

The weather has got a nip in it, and the number of men wearing shorts over running tights (or leggings) goes up in inverse proportion to the drop in the temperature. This look never fails to make me smile- what is wrong with trousers to keep your calves warm? Have you never heard of cycle clips- or my varient, tucking your trousers in your socks? Or if you really like the aerodynamicity of tights, why bother putting baggy shorts over them? Could it possibly be about not wanting to have the outline of your package on display for all to see? Especially on a chilly morning?

I can't help but think that european men would not adopt this look. They would either, like the grand stallions of the ballet world, wear their clingy garments with a proud swagger, or just stick to chinos. I love the British male, nothing if not half-arsed.

Speed vs Style

Ah, the eternal dilemma of every cyclist, especially the female ones. Or just the vain ones. The roads are full of examples of bikers who have decisively chosen one or the other and nailed their (literal) colours to the mast. The head -to- toe neon-clad Lycra Lads, for example, are prepared to brave the aesthetic wasteland of their chosen attire for the sake of those extra mphs. They even take the ridicule of walking around in clippy cloppy shoes because they know how much swifter they are than trainers. On the extreme other end of the spectrum the Pashley Princesses choose elegant, heavy bicycles and pedal sedate as the Queen, never breaking into a sweat or allowing a carefully tousled hair out of place. They will arrive when they arrive,because the party doesn't start until they get there.

Both of these positions have their merits. I just can't decide which one to choose, and I sort of hope I don't have too. At the moment i
I sit uncomfortably between the two, torn by their equal and opposite priorities.

I really do enjoy the aesthetics of things. I don't give a fig about fashion, but I deeply appreciate colours and textures and shapes. There is something so jarring, so unsensual about man-made materials in highlighter colours. Surely, surely, there are ways of making bike kit look lovelier. We cyclists are the moving installations of this city, we have become visual punctuation and it would be nice to be adding something to the glorious landscape rather than blighting it with fluorescent chartreuse and badly fitting leggings.

The trouble is that I also really enjoy speed- there are few things as quick to make you feel like a giddily joyful five year old than that sensation of flying. With my basket, mac, huge scarf and flowing skirt all causing drag, not to mention my flexy-bottomed shoes apparently wasting half my effort, I'm unlikely to get up to those kind of speeds very often without the help of a big hill. 
It is not just the sensation either- the quicker I am the more time I have in bed. This factors in a troubling number of my major life decisions- I really, really hate mornings. An extra round of the snooze alarm looks like a good reason to sacrifice style, most days.
And obviously I'd rather not get killed on the road and therefore need to be visible. I'm no Oscar Wilde, I do understand there are many more important things than beauty.


So what to do? Most mornings I look at my basket, contemplate swapping my lovely handbag for a rucksack in order to increase my aerodynamicity (is that a word?) but decide I don't want to look like a snail. Or get a clammy back.


Places like Bobbin Bicycles and the London Cycle Chic shop are probably the way forward- so I'll just have to ask for vouchers for Christmas, and keep treading my uneasy middle (cycle) path between speed and style.

Cycle Tribes: Brompton Bosses (warning- may contain sterotypes)

The Brompton World Championships

Today there is a tube strike, and in amongst the throngs of part-time cyclists there will be certain very recognisable types. Today I want to introduce you to the middle-managers of the road, the Brompton Bosses.

No London cyclist starts out on a Brompton. Having a folding bike if you live anywhere in Zones 1-3 seems pointless. Why would you settle for teeny-tiny wheels when you can have full sized, speedy ones? However, the hip young things living in Hackney that begin on a hybrid, graduate to racers and have a brief affair with a single speed can't hold onto their youth forever. A Big Job, commitment and children all force the inevitable migration to London's outer reaches, the green and pleasant lands of Virginia Water, Chorleywood or...somewhere in Kent. And so the daily bike commute becomes train-based, and a Brompton is purchased. From that day forth, said rider must leave behind their past life of devotion to real size wheels and extol the benefits of a folder.

Brompton riders are typically suited- those little wheels don't allow enough speed to make sweat a problem, and Lycra for aerodynamics would be laughable. They strap a shiny briefcase to the front and adopt a curious hunched over riding style to match their furrowed brows. Clearly men (and the occasional women) used to stress and competition, the frustration of not being able to compete with their sleeker, speedier fellow road users comes off them in waves. The hierarchy of the road is an inverse model of what they are used to in Lincoln's Inn or KPMG. No respect if shown for job title, but these daily humiliations are in general taken with good grace. Age and experience have been mellowing, for some.

However, the loss of dignity that is inevitable with a folding bike is richly compensated for in convenience. No endless debates on how to avoid your bike being stolen, no wet-trousers-syndrome from a saddle left out in the rain and the freedom to take your wheels anywhere. So us grown-up size bike riders may sneer, but perhaps, as they patiently fold and unfold in a ritual as soothing as the rosary, the Brompton bosses get the last laugh.

Image by dullhunk

Why cycling in the rain is NOT amazing

Ugh. I am writing this while still wet, cold and gumpy, so brace yourselves folks, for my first non-pollyanna-esque post.

I need to add some qualifications to 'Why cycling in the rain is amazing'. I have decided it is only amazing if you have the right kit. This morning I left the house under blue skies, wearing a t-shirt and jogging bottoms with my handbag in my basket and my pretty, not-very waterproof pannier on the back. Ten minutes from home the heavens opened. I had packed my waterproof, I'm experienced enough for that, but it was needed to cover up my handbag. When I know it is going to rain I pack everything in the pannier in plastic bags (style and practicality, you see), but today my change of clothes and my laptop were horribly vulnerable. The rain was the kind Forrest Gump calls (adopt slow southern accent) 'itty bitty rain', but which I would like to rename 'spiteful, scouring rain' and before long I was exfoliated, soaked and freezing. My joggers absorb water better than bounty kitchen roll, and my t-shirt? Well. I wouldn't have wanted to run into my boss.

Perhaps the worst thing about cycling in the rain unprepared is that, and here I throw all vanity aside, it gives you Spam Arms. Some female readers will identify- in extremes of temperature the flesh at the tops of my arms turns an unpleasant, mottled deep pink colour, resembing nothing better than processed sandwich meat.
And no-one wants to start their day with Spam Arms.

In order to remain friends with the rain it is time to smarten up. I'm off to buy the yearly long leather gloves which are the perfect combination of warm, dry and just a little bit Cruella De Ville. I will not be fooled again.

Cycling: The Only Way to Travel

If you're reading a bike blog you probably already agree with me, but I thought I'd marshall my arguments for my thesis:

You'd be an idiot not to ride a bike in London.

I'm a bit of a cycling evangelist and really, I'd love you to be too. So here's an easy guide you can use to persuade the most hardened tube weasel onto two wheels.

It's Cheaper

A monthly oyster travel card for zones 1-2 is roughly £100. If you live further out, or you use pay as you go you'll be spending way more. Over a year the absolute minimum is about £1000.

In contrast, a reasonable entry level bike will cost you about £300, plus two services a year costing about £40 each.Bung in a few inner tubes and maybe a pump and you're looking at £400 a year- and that is if the bike only lasts you that long (it shouldn't). 

Personally I can think of better places to put £600 than Boris Johnson's budget sheet.

It's Faster

According to TFL, over an average journey of 4 miles in central London, cycling is always the fastest mode of transport. See this brilliant post on London Cyclist for a real life test. My personal experience bears this out, especially if you need to go east to west in North London.

It's Less Stressful

If you have even a little of  typical urban control freak tendancies, you will know that there is nothing more frustrating than being at the mercy of the whims of the London transport system. Granted, some days everything works amazingly, but isn't it always the day you have a vital meeting/date/interview to get to that the whole network goes into spasm and spits you out? With a bike you'll never have to wait for a bus or a train again, change three times to travel two miles or get stuck in a tunnel. Self-determination is priceless- the only thing controlling the length of your commute is the strength of your own two legs.

It's Greener

Feeling a little bit smug about your carbon emissions can't hurt, can it?

And most importantly.....

It's much, much, much more Pleasant

I, like most people make most decisions on a pain vs pleasure basis. And honestly, cycling is ALWAYS more pleasurable. On the days when it is raining hard and I think 'I don't really want to get wet' and opt for the tube I always regret it. You get wet on the way too and from the station anyway and the train will be rammed with damp people poking you with their umbrellas, steaming and scowling. On the roads, wet faced but smiling, the cyclists stay a pleasant temperature and arrive home feeling revitalised.

In terms of gear, a decent breathable waterproof jacket will do you. Lots of people swear by waterproof trousers but I find them squeaky, clammy and a bridge too far in the style stakes. Instead, I wear shorts, or short skirts and tights that dry fast.

And if you think that on hot summer days it might be less  sweaty not to cycle.... you've clearly never been on a London tube (or bus) in August. If you're going to sweat anyway, you might as well earn it.




Finally, and you may not all find this, but whenever I'm on a bike I feel I'm a member of the Famous Five off on a mini-adventure. And we all need a bit more of that in our day.