An outbreak of numptiness?

On 10th June the Public Accounts Committee held an evidence session on Road Safety. I offer for your edification the followign exchange between David Curry MP and Robert Devereaux, Permanent Secretary at the DfT:-

David Curry MP said "About two months ago I was driving up the A1 which, as you know, is a dual carriageway pretty well all the way, and now the roundabouts have been eliminated it is rather easier to drive on, and on these overhead panels they had the words "Think! Bike". I thought what in God's name is this about? I am used to having entirely useless information like "Road closed after A367" - I have not got the faintest idea which is the A367. Were they encouraging cyclists to cycle up the dual carriageway of the A1, is that the purpose of those overhead signs, and could we discourage them from saying meaningless things in entirely inappropriate places in future?

Mr Devereux: It literally means what it says on the tin, "Think! Bike". "Think! Bike" means do not be blind to the fact that a motorcyclist is one of the things that by and large car drivers do not see when you pull out and you are looking for other cars.

Mr Curry: Why did it not say "Beware of motorcyclists "? Why not use English and say "Beware of motorcyclists " or "Beware of cyclists"?"

Mr Curry may also be a devotee of the Telegraph's "Honest John" page, for this Saturday brought the following inquiry from CC of Bath:-

I keep seeing information boards on motorways saying "Think Bike". Do you know what it means or what we are supposed to do?

Honest John gives good honest advice: "It mwans stay awake and aware and frequently look in your mirrors and all around you for motorbikes or anything else that might overtake you. Be particularly vigilant when pulling out of a side road into a main road."

Though there aren't many side roads on the motorway...

If you don't like the weather we can change it

On Friday the signs on the M6 said "warning: floods." Today I've just had to stop & take a layer off because I'm baking.

Shiny Side Up

I like this poster, it shares the responsibility for safety between the rider and the other vehicle. According to the MAIDS study, 2/3 of collisions are attributable to the other road user's mistake.

Year Zero?

Something terrible has happened over at Telegraph Towers - they've redesigned the blog pages and, though there are tantalizing links to all the old posts, if I click on one I get a big blank screen.

I'm not vain (OK, I'm a bit vain) but I did keep thinking I'd find a way of downloading all my posts and everyone's comments on them, so that when I'm old and menopausal (which I hope won't be for a while yet, despite Graham's views on the subject!) I could show them to putative Highwayspawn and show them that I used to be somebody in the world.

Oh well. Looks like I left this one too late.

Anyone for tea and buns?

I'm catching up with my research for the RBR and would like to reassure the owners of ^^^sudden hacking cough likely to last till October^^^^ that their concern, stated thus:- "After a busy season in 2008 we are ready for 2009. We hope the current economic climate will not deter our visitors" is groundless, as they can look forward to about 250 bikers, at least some of whom will stop for a cream tea.

I like the flowers…

I am in a not inconsiderable amount of pain at the moment. My neighbours must be speculating quite luridly on the causes of the yelps and squeals they hear from my bedroom at about 7.30 most mornings. But it’s just me, trying to get dressed without triggering the great big stabby pain in my left-hand ribs. So far I’ve been lucky with ailments in that they’ve always left me able to ride, but whatever this is, it also gives me a numb left hand, which isn’t great for changing gear.

On Friday I had to ride to Milton Keynes for a meeting, and only the fact that I’d had to turn down a family funeral to attend it kept me on the road instead of turning round to lie on the floor and take my prescription codeine (which makes my back hurt less but makes me feel sick, so not really much of a win…) But the sun was shining and the fields were full of poppies, which I much prefer to the bright yellow rapeseed that used to blanket the countryside, because poppies don’t make me sneeze. And they remind me of being a teenager studying my war poets and flirting with becoming a radical pacifist. So I started to cheer up as I got nearer to Brackley. And then I felt much better, because the roads were full of traffic queues. I’d forgotten that it was the Friday before the British Grand Prix and the combination of balmy sunshine and the prospect of a British victory had brought the punters out in number. I’ve done my time in the melee which is the Silverstone car park, so I felt no guilt at filtering past the lot of them. With glee.

I’ve been a bit worried since leaving London that the locals are hostile to “making progress” because I get a lot of flashes of headlights and honked horns as I lumber my way up the outside of the queue. And Friday was no exception – except that the driver who’d flashed his lights at me gave me a cheery wave as he drove by. So maybe he was just saying, “watch out, I’m heading towards you” rather than “bugger off you unpatrotic queue jumper.”

New wheels

I need to improve my balance. And to stem the great expansion of my hips. And Emmaus offered me these in my exact size for less than a fiver. I don't see why incompetence should stop me ... after all, I survived my week snowboarding (barely...)

Is the pavement afraid? It bloody should be....

Feeling metaphorical..

On Monday this week I replaced the rear light unit on the Triumph - Steve and Caz did a sterling job patching it up to get me through the last MOT, efforts which I managed to undo a couple of months ago in a split second of numptiness which saw me backing into a low wall. I understand the boffins at Mercedez-Benz tune their doors to a soothing thunk of expensiveness - if they run out of ideas I can recommend the sound of crunching plastic as a suitably wallet-shrinking alternative. £75 quid lighter and 25 minutes older, I now have a rear unit of reassuring solidity and was able to take the bike out for a tentative loop of the A10. The steering felt rather uncertain, which I attributed to lack of familiarity with the rakishly-angled front wheel, when compared to Ruby's teutonic uprightness.

Further exploration this morning with a tyre pressure gauge revealed that no, the wobbly handling was due to a lack of about 20 psi. I have been asking the tyre to perform handling miracles without taking steps to ensure it was adequately resourced with all the support it needed.

Here endeth the metaphor.

Learning Curve Blues

After honking away with limited melodiousness for some time, I have bitten the bullet and signed up for harmonica lessons with the talented and patient Steve Lockwood. The harmonica is a deceptively simple instrument which is remarkably unforgiving of tension, poor breathing, and bad technique. I've learnt the first bit of "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen. And in the process I've discovered something interesting (and really, really annoying). When someone teaches me something new, I listen, I nod, I try and understand it - AND THEN I DON'T DO IT. No sound out of 8 draw? Where's your tongue? Oh yes, nowhere near where it should be. Again.

If I can crack the learning curve on the blues harp, maybe I can start carving some real curves with Ruby.

What I think about when I think about riding

I've just bought Murakami's book, "What I talk about when I talk about running" and am debating whether there would be a market for a book by me called "What I think about when I think about riding."

Of course, the fact that I am not a master japanese novelist renowned for my stylish and profound prose may count against me. Also the fact that what I was thinking about this morning was "What I think about when I think about riding" means that if I think too hard I will disappear in a puff of Escherian logic.

Also this morning I was thinking that in all the advice and guidance and training I've ever seen, no-one has ever suggested that on riding round a corner I should be prepared to stop on account of a large black Labrador having a dump in the middle of the road, attended by conscientious owner clutching a plastic bag.