CityCyclingEdinburgh was launched on the 27th of October 2009 as "an experiment".
IT’S TRUE!
CCE is 15years old!
Well done to ALL posters
It soon became useful and entertaining. There are regular posters, people who add useful info occasionally and plenty more who drop by to watch. That's fine. If you want to add news/comments it's easy to register and become a member.
RULES No personal insults. No swearing.
was me I'm afraid.
I pulled out at a roundabout when I really shouldn't have done. Luckily for me the taxi I should have given way to was going slowly and didn't hit me.
In my defence, I was very distracted by the idiot behind me whose driving was making me nervous.
Today's rubbish cycling was mostly been done by the numpty battering along Dalry rd this morning presumably taking the little one to school. Nothing unusual about that except neither had a helmet on and the little one was getting a backie with legs flailing everywhere holding onto the adults jeans pockets for dear life. Poor wee mite
soul,
Here we go…
I'll be doing some rubbish cycling in 10 minutes since I'll not be taking an insulating material hat with me on the way to work.
In the afternoon I'll be picking up three kids from school again by bike. None of them will have insulation material hats.
So that's more rubbish cycling. I do do apologise for being so rubbish.
Not all of your kids will just be getting a backie though right? (Not unless your jeans are pretty strong)
That aside, how could you not take your kids to school in a 4x4? Don't you know that the number of kids killed cycling to school in Scotland is an average of .. um.. well, it might only be zero per year but that's not the point. Won't someone think of the children?
</joke>
Don't mention the "h" word.... I mentioned it once but I think I got away with it......
When I was 10 I used to get backies from an older kid (he was 14) when we went fishing. Aye, we were carrying fishing rods and tackle too. We were on the 'main road'. All on a 5 speed 'racer' with no racks or mudguards. I think I fell off one time, my fault for waving my legs around too much. Just a wee graze on my left knee.
It was the 1970s, nobody wore polystyrene on their heads, child seats on bikes were unheard of, I don't think tagalongs existed and even if they did we didn't have one. No hi-viz in those days either unless you count garish tank tops.
I'm still here. No major injuries suffered. Didn't even fall in the water and drown.
Shove your 'elf'n'dafety you know where.
Storyteller time, perhaps?
Gather round the fire, pilgrims...
My sister and I had been on a bike run with the neighbourhood kids, the age range being 10 to 12, the route ranging about 3 or 4 miles from our houses, the instructions being back before dinner time or we'd be skelped round the ear.
I'd fallen behind the group because I'd stopped to water the trees, so had some spinning to do, and in my haste had forgotten the sharpness of a bend, came off the road at a fair old lick into a ditch and saw that some idiot had left a planet rushing up towards my 11-year old head. Fair sized planet for a rocky inner, although it was both prize irony and bad luck that despite being the only one in the system with a mostly liquid surface, I impacted on the hard stuff.
Some unspecified time later I found myself back on my bike with no real recollection of how I got there, and a strange sensation of something...oh if you're squeamish, skip the next two paragraphs.
Something bouncing up and down on my right ear. I tapped the side of my head and discovered that I was touching solid bone, not the nordic blond hair I had as a youth. Further investigation revealed that I was bleeding really rather heavily and my right shoulder resembled the punch fountain at a vampire Hogmanay.
Since I was back on the bike already and to get off would represent a staggering example of closing the stable door after the horse has bolted, I just carried on down the hill until I found the other kids waiting for me and speculating that I'd actually been doing a jobbie. They saw me, soaked from head to hip in blood and looking like JFK just before his head snapped back, and to the left. Back, and to the left. Back, and to the left.
My sister asked if I was alright. I remind her of this every time this story comes up at family gatherings.
This being the days before mobile phones, the kids had to knock on doors until they found someone home, and so it was some time until adult help arrived in the form of my Dad, who was the local GP on call this particular weekend. He then managed a Schrodinger's Catlike display of simultaneous icy cool and flapping panic as he assessed the wound in the tone of voice used for discussing troublesome lawnmowing at the same time as locking himself out the car. My sister had to crawl in through the boot to let us in.
One drive to Ninewells hospital in Dundee and sixty stitches later, I had myself a shiny new scar and a fortnight off school woo hoo! I'd also left a nauseated Royal Marine and a trauma surgeon who simply didn't believe, from looking at my X-rays, that I'd walked into the place unaided.
I came back to discover that all of my friends didn't want to go anywhere near me. I was a little baffled and disconcerted, since I didn't think the scar was that bad, except for the time where the scabbing fell off in dangles, but my sister filled me in as to why. The head of the whole school(Dundee High, which is both primary and secondary, so while we saw the primary headie every week, the Rector was a godlike figure of mystery and awe) had lined up the kids and explained Bruce MacDonald of P7 had a double fracture in his skull and anything hit his head it'd push the unfixed bit of bone into my brain and kill him, at which point the offending child would be expelled so hard their grandchildren would never learn to read.
As I said to Spitfire and the other folk at the HP breakfast ride, I simply don't know if a helmet would have helped because the scar begins an inch below the lid line, but as Spytfyre and Spitters have said, I'm really not going to recreate it in the sake of scientific enquiry.
Even if I do get another fortnight off.
me. on MMW. got shouted at by oncoming cyclist. not sure she needed to be quite so angry. I was staring at back wheel of cyclist in front of me and debating whether or not to suggest she put some air in it. Is there an approved/jokey/nice way of saying that? Anyway in my distraction, I had drifted into the centre of the path. Oops.
I don't know of such an approved way. I once did it, and it ended in farce. Girl in front of me had a somewhat flat rear tyre, so I slowed down a little to tell her. She had headphones in, by the time she'd taken them out I was about 10 feet past her so had to really slow down because by this point she'd also nearly stopped. And when I eventually told her, she just looked confused as if I'd told her something completely irrelevant. I've never done it again.
A colleague has just told me that the other day she was driving down Easter Road and overtook a cyclist who was cycling no-handed while he ate a Greggs pastie (she recognised the bag). She stopped at a zebra crossing and the cyclist, distracted by his pastie goodness, cycled into the back of her car.
What puzzles her the most is that it was about half eight at night so there were no Greggs open.
"What puzzles her the most is that it was about half eight at night so there were no Greggs open."
That's about the time Greggs start delivering 'tomorrow's bakery goods' to shops!
..was the roadies at Hunter's Tryst mini roundabout. Second cyclist should have been aware that you need to give way to traffic comming from the right and stopped at the line. If it was you, count youself luck the black car saw you and avoided you.
...yesterday, at least, was me, as I signalled left nice and early for a turn, letting my balance take me a fraction too close to a parked car and I was rudely reminded of the length of my arm as my fingers met the wing mirror. "Good grief, I've never done that before!" I remarked to myself.
You very rarely see backies these days. When you do, it is impossible not to go straight back to the 1970s if you are old enough and to cries of Geeza backie
Of course where I grew up in rural Renfrewshire the roads were quiet even in rush hour and after that they were empty so falling off was no big deal
Close call this morning on Melville Drive around 08:30 while slipstreaming a fellow commuter heading west. I'm sure it was a Scottish Widows silver mini bus that just turned left, without using indicators, across from MMW. My fellow commuter gave him some serious nanti while both of us braked furiously. No damage and no impact.
Easter Road, about an hour ago. I'm in pedestrian mode, heading north just past the railway bridge over the Powderhall line, son ahead of me on his scooter.
First I spot a lady cyclist hugging the kerb, almost in the gutter, letting cars zip past too close. "Take primary" I thought to myself, "Or at least a more assertive secondary".
Then I spy a second, smartly dressed lady on a sit-up-and-beg style bike, trying to squeeze into a small gap past a huge bulk carrying tipper lorry stopped at the lights. Okay he's not right at the front, and not indicating to turn, but still...
I felt like screaming "Noooo!" at the top of my voice, but instead screamed inside whilst giving the lady my eyebrows raised, 'I'm very concerned for your safety' Paddington hard stare as she passed.
I heard the lorry move off, and glanced back to see if she managed to get past in time. Didn't see her, so presume so.
On my way to the Bike Station yesterday evening I passed the same bloke twice coming out of work when he rolled well past two stop lines before stopping but then failed to even justify this with "so he could get away earlier" by then waiting for a space in the traffic, looking over his shoulder. The bloke who came past me whilst I was in the ASZ to head south across Fountainbridge set off straight away, albeit slowly, then did the same thing at the next lights, stopping almost directly in front of me. He had a rather erratic sense of road-positioning so I stayed behind him along Earl Grey Street, moving into the straight-ahead-only lane towards the end and entering Brougham Place well ahead of him. He then pulled up in front of me AGAIN at the pedestrian crossing at the end of NMW, was still safely behind me at the bottom of Marchmont Road where the light changed to green as I slowed down for them but then had time to catch up and GO IN FRONT OF ME AGAIN to turn right into Argyle Place, whereupon it became necessary to request that he desisted.
On the way home from the Bike Station a sun-hatted-hipster on an old-Post-Office-looking bike ran the red in front of me to turn right into Salisbury Place from Causewayside. Despite my stopping in the park to laugh at the giant puddles and take some pictures (and only just going over 20mph down the hill to accommodate the bloke in front of me who was in full-on tucked-in-on-the-drops mode but not pedalling) he then somehow ended up just in front of me at the lights at the end of Meadowbank Terrace, which he also jumped in order to meander first to the right and east before turning round, going across the traffic islands and heading west along London Road.
London - holy crap - I am genuinely surprised there is not more cyclist deaths
1) People running red lights EVERYWHERE (sometimes this is actually a sensible option in certain parts of central London where there is NO consideration for bikes)
2) People hopping on and off pavements.
3) Very few people looking over their shoulder before maneuvering around the road.
Yesterday on my way to do some training laps at regents park I spotted a young chap riding on a full suspension on a VERY busy road weaving around and almost getting totalled by a fast moving motorbike - literally cm's from being wiped out.
Apart from that I love cycling in London. Feel fairly safe, plenty of space. Scooters are a bit of a worry sometimes though. Oh and people just wandering out between cars like they have a deathwish.
Sigh.
Couple waiting in the middle of the road for a break in the traffic crossing Queen Street having (presumably) cycled up Wemyss Place. Their bbreak comes because the pedestrian crossing lights have gone red. Which they ride through (I point this out).
I cycle past them going up to Charlotte Square, then turning onto Princes Street there are two buses straddling the lanes, waiting at the red to go onto Lothian Road. I sit behind them, despite the obvious and tempting gap on the left, reason displayed as the lights turn green and the first bus round the corner would neatly have crushed me against the railings. Seeing this, the RLJ pairing, having caught up as I sat waiting at this red, start to go up the inside of bus number 2.
Why do so few people actually look ahead? They maybe didn't know the roads, to give the benefit of some doubt, but the bus movements were obvious given where the first one wound up.
Me. Last night. Club run. Had been raining all day so I quickly switched a knobbly cross tyre for a road one on the back wheel and switched the front wheel off my road bike onto my cross bike. As the crosser has mudguards and I don't like getting a wet arse! Only a small group out so no A and B ride and therefore we're setting a fairly high pace which I'm really enjoying (though probably seen as fairly steady for the A riders present).
Riding along I'm mentally comparing the handling on the crosser compared to my road bike and thinking that the front end feels a little skittish.
Further on and I find myself on the front of the group heading into a roundabout. Fairly major road here, though not busy by this time, and while the rain has stopped it's still pretty wet. Do I take account of the road conditions and the afore-mentioned front end skittishness?
Of course not. Fly into the roundabout like I'm on the road bike on a sunny afternoon. Strava suggests I was doing about 22mph. Bike slides out from under me and I cover an impressive distance on my side (confirming how slippy the tarmac is).
Got off remarkably lightly. Scraggly bar tape the only damage to the bike. Shorts and long sleeve base layer both remained intact and so the road rash on my forearm and thigh is completely clean and free of any grit or road muck.
So overall I'm feeling lucky, but embarrassed by my own stupidity. The lesson is - ride to the conditions. Hopefully I will learn from it!
Ouch - thank heavens for clean road rash.
Today saw a bit of rubbish cycling and walking in one go. Heading up the Royal Mile, catching up with a chap on a slick-tyred MTB. There's an oblivious pedestrian crossing, perfectly visible. Now the pedestrian should have been looking, but there appeared to be a bit of bloody-mindedness on the part of the cyclist, who waited till a yard away before shouting a warning. Ped stops; cyclist swerves, then in turning to utter disgust at the ped (who is very apologetic) runs over a glass bottle.
I think the cyclist had got out of bed on the wrong side. He gets off the bike and thumps the back wheel down. Must have a puncture thinks I, but he merely looks annoyed at the bike, looks back for the ped (who is now walking away looking a little worried because Mr Cyclist is acting rather aggresively), but then the cyclist gets onto the non-punctured bike and rides to the front of the queue.
I didn't have too much sympathy for him. He'd got to that bit of road after riding most of the section of the Royal Mile past the council offices and Court of Session on the pavement... People in glass houses etc etc.
Me too - got to the east end of the Broomhouse path where the pavement has been dug up and they've helpfully suggested a 3-sets-of-lights detour instead of diverting footway around the hoarding. Anyway, they've now narrowed it to 1 lane of traffic in each direction, with an island of cones in the middle, which looked perfect for riding in to to wait for a gap in traffic to get onto the path. They'd even left a meter-wide gap in the cones at just the right spot.
It was only when I was about a foot away from going through the gap that I spotted through my rain-soaked glasses the blue rope strung between the cones. Fortunately I was already slowing to make a right turn and managed to slither to a halt with my chest contacting the rope and without it all wrapping around me and all coming down together. I made some audible curses in the direction of the oblivious workmen poking about behind their security fencing and undid the rope so I could ride over it.
Perhaps it wasn't the intention that cyclists should use the cone-island as a refuge from which to access the path, but it's preferabble to just riding into the middle of the road and waiting between 2 streams of traffic to try and get a gap (there's no other way to get onto the path now). However stringing blue rope between a cyclist-sized gap in the cones ACROSS (rather than parallel) to the direction of travel just seems bloody dangerous to me. If the road had been clear and I was going faster I probably would have come tumbling down, wrapped in rope, cones and my bike frame.
Yikes. I considered using that cone island in exactly the same way, but since it was so early it wasn't needed. I didn't see that rope at all.
I was riding offroad down the side of queens drive in the seat on my CX yesterday and unintentionally gave a bit of a shock to a couple of joggers who I passed rather too close. Felt a bit bad as I'd meant to give them more room but there was a large muddy divot which forced my hand a little.
Normally try and avoid cycling down there but needed to test gear changes offroad and that's the only place to test really.
I startled a wee jakey on the WoL yesterday afternoon when I went over a twig and caused a loud snap quite close behind him, though I was only going a mile or two an hour faster than him and had more than sufficient space for his slight jump towards the source of the noise to not be an issue.
In London today on a Boris bike. I really feel like a foreigner because I'm the only person stopping for red traffic lights.
It has to be seen to be believed, and when you see it you know why the media go on about all cyclists running red lights: it's because in London they do.
I don't know why they do: on the route I go the traffic's been quite forgiving. Even several Addison Lee cabs have given way to me and let me out from behind things.
So, in general, a completely shocking lack of safe cycling or law-abiding from the vast majority of the cyclists I saw.
@Greenroofer - that's depressing. I didn't notice that so much when I was using the hire bikes. People seemed fairly well behaved, but I wasn't quite there in rush hour - maybe the behaviour varies during the day. I was pleased by the number of real segregated cycle-ways and useful paths and links. I'm sure there's a long, long way to go - but it definitely seems to be getting better.
My experience in the Bloomsbury/Kings Cross area totally accords with Greenroofer.
@lionfish. I've got the say that in terms of the number of cyclists it's brilliant. They are everywhere, and the facilities in general are pretty good on the route I'm on. In that respect it's better than Edinburgh, and the Boris Bike principle is great and works really well for me until I'm allowed to buy a Brompton.
As I said above, the motor vehicles seen quite accommodating too. It's just the amount of rlj'ing that I find surprising/depressing.
Rubbish cycling today was by me, between Suffolk Place and the end of Craigmillar Park. Three instances in the space of two hundred yards of me thinking to myself: What am I doing here? Argh! No, not that way!
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