I'm Not the Only One ...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/4052861.stm

 

genuine_froggie wrote

The main reason I choose to commute in and out of London for years and
years on a bike was the lack of stress.

For a start my journey was 50-60 minutes each way regardless. This
certainty took a big chunk of the stress away. Door to door without
compounding the hassles by a change of carrier or three was another
stress reducer.

Then there is the ride. I try to make it fun so I play a combination of
feet up/no brakes/spot on the limit in lanes 2,2a and 3/or whatever
other game is available given the prevailing dense traffic conditions.

Occasionally my frolics are interrupted by others and the potential for
additional stress happens. I can live with this. I don't need
counselling. Shit happens, it is then down to me to deal with it and
get back on with the playing. Soonest.

It is not all sweetness and light in my little world though. I must
really learn how to do wheelies cos I occasionally I am sorely tempted
to give the international signal for I am about to pull a wheelie and
every now and then I give in and it would be nice to finish it of with
the appropriate flourish.

 

"especially commuters on trains".

That's you is it?

 

He should be forced to reply.

 

Damn .. rumbled.

 

Why ?

 

heh.

 

Take cover ... Ace is going to killfile you ... ;-)

 

When I worked in IT (<fx: spit>) up till recently, I had the choice (once I
had a bike, of course) between an hour and twenty-five minutes on the
métro/train/bus, or 45 minutes on the bike. If I left sufficiently early
in the morning and was sufficiently irresponsible with my right hand, that
forty-give minutes could be trimmed to thirty-five.

However, never let it be said that I, Des, am not open to the suggestions
of others. This morning, I refused to let the bastards get me down, even
when WVM tried to knock me off. Instead, I concentrated on ogling the
nubile young Parisiennes on their scooter, and oh dear, don't pillions look
good on sports bikes, even in the cold ..?

 

genuine_froggie wrote

My Commute into Central London is actually marginally quicker by train
than by bike and has got 5 minutes shorter over the years. The bike
journey though has got 10 minutes longer and a kin sight more hazardous.

Excellent work Des. Reachable parts of reality can only be a short step
away.

 

(snip)

Not so sure, after this evening's episodes. I commute along the D36 and
there is a big roundabout near the town of Saclay. 'Big' is no hyperbole.
As I'm filtering gently towards it, some **** in a green Astra comes off
the roundabout, and as he approaches me, he deliberately swerves towards
me, before swerving away and carrying on his way. It wasn't an accident;
it was to 'scare' me. He failed, because by the time I realised that he'd
done it, he was away. Now the gentleman in question is either very brave,
or very stupid, because both lanes on that road are _always_ choc-a-bloc in
both directions. It would have been a simple matter to go around the
roundabout and catch up with him 90 seconds later. Now I'm not a fighter,
but then he wasn't to know that.

I sort of shrugged, and moved on.

Five minutes later, I'm on the N118, filtering, when a van starts to move
across my path, from lane 2 to lane 3. In some ways, I owe him a thank
you, because if he hadn't seen me at the last minute and moved back to his
right, he'd have 'ad me, as I was so close than even the rapid and hard
application of non-ABS-equipped brakes front and rear, wouldn't have served
me.

A few minutes later, as I'm still filtering, I sort of 'sense', with that
sixth sense that we all develop after a short time riding a bike, that
someone was moving across from lane 2 to lane 3. It happened _as_I_ was
passing, and I was fortunate in that I had slowed down seconds before, and
so was in third. I whacked my right hand open, and he passed harmlessly
behind me.

I seem to have been particularly inattentive this evening. Still, all's
well that ends well: I'm sitting quaffing a Bourgogne aligoté(from SO's
home dÃpartement).

 

genuine_froggie wrote

Sounds about par for the course.

I always reckon I failed if ever I had to do something unanticipated in
a hurry. I also always reckon that I had a fair run during the week if
I didn't have to anchor up hard at all. Once or twice was normal. If
it happened three times I used to give myself lectures and ride slow for
a few hundred yards.

Swerving out of the way, very rare indeed. Some beautiful bits of
automotive improv. ballet mind but not yer actual swerving, not if I
could avoid it.

It really is one of those, "The more I practice the luckier I get,"
type syndromes.