#WednesdayWisdom: The Importance of Visibility

This isn’t about visibility in the ‘high-vis hero’ sense.

Cycling Weekly
Photo: Cycling Weekly

Last week’s Groundswell event left me mulling a few things over. Numerous themes were raised that I felt deserved some exploration, and one of them was the importance of being visible. Not to traffic, but to other would-be riders who may relate to you on a personal level.

Let me explain.

During the event, Joe and Elly felt it necessary to cover a few frequently asked questions, in order to save us the time of asking them ourselves. One of the timeless questions they’ve heard over and over again, is ‘how can I encourage more [women/people of colour/poorer people, etc.] to cycle?’

While well-intentioned, this question is quite a problematic one, for two reasons.

  1. It’s usually the result of a projection of one person’s experience, onto an entire group of people.
  2. They’re almost always already doing it.

Projection

This question, when asked, is usually proposed by a person who doesn’t belong to the group being discussed. A man may ask about how to encourage more women to join his local cycling club. A Caucasian person may want to diversify their local club by making it more inviting to people of colour.

There’s nothing wrong with this, of course. It’s good to want to diversify your social groups. It’s nice to want to share your experience with others. The issue arises, though, due to that person’s projection of their experience of cycling onto the group in question, despite their experiences being vastly different.

For example, a man in a male-dominated cycling club may want to encourage more women to ride with them. In his experience, the group is welcoming and friendly, the routes they take are scenic and beautiful, and generally they always have a great time. What woman wouldn’t want to join in?

But a woman’s experience of this same scenario may not be the same. She may feel intimidated, being the only woman in a large group of men. Their joviality may not resonate with her in the same way. She may feel like she doesn’t belong there. She may experience behaviours on the roads from motorists and pedestrians, that the men may have never encountered, such as cat-calling.

And it’s not just women who may have a different experience on this street. In certain areas, a person who appears to be noticeably poorer may be likely to be treated as inferior by middle class drivers. Or on a practical level, they may just not be able to afford to invest in the kit and the equipment needed to accompany a group on a long, fast ride. On the other hand, the risks are much higher for some. A person of colour, in some neighbourhoods, could be pulled over by the police on suspicion of stealing the bike.

So it’s not a bad thing to want to share your experience with others, but it is important to realise that your experience may not reflect theirs. Of course, these terrible things may not happen. But the likelihood of poor treatment can be higher for some groups, and their perception of this participation could be influenced by those fears.

They’re already riding

Just because a particular group aren’t joining in your club ride, doesn’t mean they don’t know the benefits of cycling. A white middle class male-dominated Sunday club ride may be bereft of women, for example, because those women are already off riding together, perhaps with a Breeze ride, or equivalent. A neighbourhood with a high population of people of colour may have already formed its own collective of riders.

With a little research, it’s clear that there are many lesser-known groups, clubs, and organised rides that are already catering for diverse and minority groups.

This is where I come to the point of visibility.

If you are seen by others to be riding, someone who may relate to you is more likely to see you, and be inspired to do the same. Women like to see other women riding. If poorer areas are filled with commuter cyclists, others may be inclined to sell their car, ride to work, save a lot of money and then in turn inspire others to do the same.

Being more visible – to people who can relate to you, and picture themselves in your shoes – answers the original question of how to encourage others to ride.

You don’t need to project your personal experience onto others in the hopes of actively encouraging them to immerse themselves in your idea of what cycling means. It’s likely that many of them are already riding in a way that is meaningful to them, and they’re inspiring others along the way.


This article was inspired by one of the Groundswell movies,  Colour Lines and Bike Lanes: Creating a place in the movement.

You can watch the movie below, and read more about it here.

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Monday Night is Women’s Night

This article was written for The Bristol Bike Project, and originally published here.


Walking into the workshop at The Bristol Bike Project is a sensory experience. You hear the clinking of metal on metal, and the grinding of ratchet spanners. You smell the grease, the oil, and the rubber. You feel the grime of these things on your skin, and it’s a welcoming sensation.

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Photo from Women in Flow, a series by Rosa Lewis

Because if you’re walking into the workshop at The Bristol Bike Project, it’s likely that you enjoy this kind of thing. You want to get your hands dirty, play with some tools, and make a real connection with your bike.

But wanting it isn’t enough. You have to walk through the door, and for many women, this part isn’t so easy. Walking into a workshop can be intimidating for some women, because it is still a very male world.

Even in 2017, girls are not encouraged to learn mechanical skills, and there’s still an assumption among many people that they are less capable in this area. Many women don’t have the confidence to get stuck into the maintenance side of cycling, believing it to still be a bit of a boys’ club, and instead rely on bike shops or male friends to keep their bikes ticking over.

So as a woman in the workshop, it’s difficult to put your hand up and ask for help. You don’t want to be that girl who doesn’t know anything, and you may not want to rely on a man to help you.

But we’re changing that, one Monday at a time. Monday night is Women’s Night.

Because it’s important for women to learn these skills, and gain the confidence to enter the workshop. It helps them to become more independent cyclists, able to make necessary repairs while out on the road.

Many women who start this way really get a taste for it, and may even go on to become a bike mechanic themselves. Having female mechanics in bike shops is hugely encouraging for female customers, and could even result in those women walking through our doors on a Monday night.

So when you walk into the workshop at The Bristol Bike Project on a Monday night, you still get that same sensory experience: the grease, the oil, the grime and the grinding. But there’s one big difference: it is filled only with women. Monday nights are about providing a space for women to come and develop their skills and build their confidence, without concern over judgement or being overlooked for their male counterparts.

It’s just like the Thursday night Bike Kitchen: all the workshop’s tools are there for you to use, there’s a coordinator to run the session, and usually volunteers on hand to help you if you get stuck. But the onus is on you to get your hands dirty, and work on your bike yourself. There are no silly questions, and there’s no preconception about your capabilities.

It’s just you, your bike, some inspiring women, and the workshop.

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Photo from Women in Flow, a series by Rosa Lewis

Groundswell: Bicycle Culture Rising

If you’ve not heard of them, Joe Biel and Elly Blue are two writers, filmmakers and bicycle activists. They co-own Microcosm Publishing in Portland, Oregon, and are currently touring various cities in the UK with Groundswell: Bicycle Culture Rising.

Joe Elly
Photo: pdot.org/groundswell

The event comprises of 8 short films that delve into communities using bikes for social justice, and a discussion of the boundaries which undermine them.

On Tuesday 5th September, Joe and Elly came to Bristol and presented Groundswell to a packed-out workshop at The Bristol Bike Project. The night was organised by Lucy Greaves, a mechanic at the Project, and a wonderful wordsmith in her own right.

The night was hugely insightful, providing a glimpse into other cycling communities.

On the one hand we laughed with Peatonito, a Mexico City vigilante, facing the traffic head on and using guerrilla tactics to make public spaces safe for cyclists and pedestrians alike. All while wearing a custom-made lucha libre costume. We loved him.

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Photo: towardsthehumancity.org

On the other hand, we shook our heads in dismay and gasped at the treatment of a single mother, who has been pulled over, ticketed, and arrested more than once, just for riding her bike to work.

Other films tackled subjects like race, poverty, gender, and social isolation. I won’t talk about them in depth, you should just watch them for yourself. What I will say, is that it was hugely thought-provoking to glimpse into other worlds. Where for some, bikes are a form of social justice, and for others, they’re simply a way to get out into the world and meet other people. For one man in particular, bicycling quite literally saved his life.

But it wasn’t just about how people are making it happen. Some of the grassroots initiatives that we saw and talked about, didn’t quite achieve their goals. The reasons why they failed were also discussed.

Joe and Elly argue that in order for a city to be able to build a thriving cycling community, they need three things:

  1. Political proponents – local politicians who support cycling infrastructure, and ideally use it.
  2. Boardroom advocates – the important folk who schmooze with various influencers and acquire vital funding.
  3. Street-level activists – those of us who ride our bikes every day, showing that there is a demand for safe cycling infrastructure, and lobbying our governing bodies for change.

This made me question whether Bristol has what it takes to become a better cycling city. Supposedly it’s one of the best cities in the UK for cycling, and in many ways I can see why. We have plenty of bike lanes, both on- and off-road, shared use paths, space for bike parking, and a wealth of beautiful Sustrans/National Cycle Network routes at our disposal.

However, while these things make it possible to cycle around Bristol, many of them were clearly not well thought through. Many bike lanes are nothing but crumbling red paint on the left side of the road. Plenty of them suddenly end, and become car parking spaces. The road surfaces can be awful in certain parts of the city.

And yet, we are the home of Sustrans. For four years, George Ferguson was our mayor. Every day, scores of people commute to work by bike. Yet, I just don’t know if I can see things improving for us.

Of course, watching these films did make me realise that we have it better than many cities, and I recognise that we’re very lucky in that respect. But it made me question, if even a city like Bristol hasn’t managed to get it right yet, then what hope do others have?

Go watch the films, and tell me what you think. There were so many thought-provoking themes that came up that night, I’ll be exploring some of them further in future posts. Stay tuned for that.

Taking Dori off-road

I told you that I’ve been allowing myself some play time on the bike. I also mentioned that my confidence and skill level has really started improving.

I decided to take myself to Ashton Court to practise riding on gravel. I sometimes do Parkrun there, and I know the route it takes goes up a gravelly climb. I figured this would be a good place to start.

Originally I’d planned to take Regina, my lovely Orange CX bike, but alas, I stupidly cross-threaded one of her pedals in my eagerness to get out on a ride. Silly me. So I took Dori instead. She’s more than capable of these things, and knows gravel well already, despite our relationship still being in its early months.

I’m pleased to say the gravel climbing went well straightaway, so I attempted some gravel descending. It was okay at first, being a nice, gradual decline. However I must admit when it dropped steeper I lost my nerve a little.

To my left I saw an opening that led into the woods, and what looked like a bridleway, so I decided to explore that instead. It was nice: a bit muddy and riddled with tree roots, which made for an interesting challenge.

In the end I grew so much in confidence that I did something I didn’t think I was capable of. I took Dori – my steel touring bike, with her 32c tyres – onto the mountain bike trails.

Despite not being the right bike for the job, she certainly held up well.

Not only did I go on the trails, I spent about an hour flying through them, occasionally picking up a good pace and taking on some technical parts that would normally freak me out if I had time to think about them first. It was the fact that everything was moving so quickly that helped me keep my nerve. I didn’t have time to chicken out, I just tackled what came and reacted on instinct.

I had an absolute blast, and didn’t fall once. I felt in control of the bike, and on the few occasions where I felt I was losing control, I was able to stop on a flat part and regain my composure.

I’m so bloody proud of myself.

Nova Trail
Photo: mbswindon.co.uk

Time to Play

I recently left my full-time job to go part-time, meaning I have more days free to do the things I enjoy. I’ve been taking advantage of this, and riding my bike for fun a lot more often.

I came to a realisation that I not only want to ride faster and further, I want to ride better. What I mean by this, is that I want to ride with more confidence, balance, and skill. You may remember from my 10 Confessions of a Clumsy Cyclist, that I’m not the most nimble person and I’ve got a lot to learn still.

I didn’t really ride much as a child, so I missed that stage where you play: learning tricks, mucking about in the woods, and generally taking risks that build your confidence. So with my newfound leisure time, I’m setting myself a series of challenges, or goals. I’ve listed the skills and techniques that I want to learn, practise and perfect, in order to make myself a better cyclist.

Riding slowly, in a straight line

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Photo: robbholman.com

When I haven’t got to be anywhere quickly, I’m taking opportunities to shift into a low gear and slow right down. This is to help improve my balance and stability, which will be useful for commuting in traffic. On top of this, I’m aiming to be able to ride slowly in a straight line. This means tracing painted lines on quiet roads as slowly as possible, without jerking left and right too much. I’ve got a long way to go here, but my confidence is building.

Track standing

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Photo: bikesafeboston.com

Building from here, I want to be able to come to a complete stop and hold my position for as long as possible. Again, it’s all about improving my balance and stability, but it would also be nice to avoid having to unclip and re-clip as often as I do right now.

Riding one-handed

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Photo: wikihow.com

Technically I can already do this, but I’m much less confident taking my left hand off the bars than I am with my right. I don’t know why, but I struggle with it. So, every chance I get, I’m forcing myself to take my left hand fully away from the bars, placing it on my hip. I’m then riding like this for as long as possible, to show myself that I can very quickly re-gain my stability. This is going really well.

Riding no-handed

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Photo: bikelah.com

I’ve always wanted to be able to do this. It would be really useful to be able to sit up and remove a layer without having to stop, or unwrap a snack bar while riding. As my one-handed riding has already improved drastically, I’m making good progress with this too. I’m making a point of straightening up and just gently resting my finger tips on the top of the bars, until I gain a good amount of balance. I then lift my hands an inch or so. Gradually I’m able to do this for longer, and even had a recent breakthrough where I held it for so long that I confidently put both hands in my lap! I’m not there yet though, and still need a lot of practice.

Climbing out of the saddle

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Photo: cyclingweekly.com

I’ve been getting much better at this and feel like my legs are so much stronger now. I’ve been experimenting with where to put my hands, and swinging the bike from side to side. The latter felt very strange the first time, but I’m improving slowly. I want to do this more because I find shifting into the granny gear and spinning up a hill isn’t very efficient when I’m trying to keep up with other riders who are on much lighter bikes than me. I want to be able to get up a hill quickly.

Scooting and mounting

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Photo: bikeforest.com

I want to be able to mount efficiently. I see so many people placing their left foot on the pedal, kicking off into a scoot and swinging their right foot over the frame, planting themselves on the saddle and pedalling off. I’m nowhere near achieving this yet, but I’ve been working on simply scooting to find my balance. For some reason I naturally veer to the left, and I’m struggling to overcome this. No matter how much I concentrate, the moment my right foot leaves the ground, my hands pull the handlebars towards me.

Update: Since originally penning this post, I’ve now picked this up! Woohoo!

 

 

 

Dismounting

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Photo: downtownexpress.com

The same thing as before, but reverse. I’ve now mastered this one, but I still need a bit of practice. I’m able to slow, swing my right leg back and plant it on the ground, but I want to have such good balance that I can swing it into a scoot, and stay on the bike still. When Adam demonstrated these skills to me, he was slowly scooting along, swinging the right leg over, then back, then over, and then back again. I want to be able to do that.

 

 

 

 

 

Bunny hops

mbr . co . uk
Photo: mbr.co.uk

I want to be able to hop a curb. I frequently come up against this when riding home from the Bike Project, and I hate having to stop and lift my bike up onto the curb before getting going again. I also realise it’s a good skill to have for avoiding unexpected hazards in the road, like potholes. I’ve started off by practising lifting the front wheel only. I push all my weight down onto the bars, and then use the upward momentum to pull them up as I return to position. It’s really tiring, but I’ve been seeing progress and I just need to build my strength so I can get a bit more height. I’m not quite able to make the curb just yet.

That’s all of them! I’ll keep you updated on my progress. It’s nice to have some things to aim for, and work at. It’s not always just about how far I can go on the bike, after all.

August Adventure, Day 2: New Forest to Steyning

If you missed part one, click here.

Needless to say, we were pretty exhausted when we got up in the morning, and we still had a fair way to go on our journey. It was lovely to spend the sleepy morning under the trees though, cooking some hearty porridge on our stove and sipping a hot cup of tea.

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As it was a Monday morning, we decided to wait until after 9am to get going, so we could avoid the rush hour traffic.

We headed for Hythe, where we got our first ferry of the day. I made the great mistake of buying us coffees before we boarded, which made for a very stressful journey to the end of the pier. Pushing an extremely heavy and imbalanced bike with one hand, and holding a very hot cup of coffee in the other, proved to be more hassle than it was worth, particularly when we had to negotiate two sets of chicanes at each end. I dropped my bike more than once. On two occasions, a complete stranger held my coffee for me. #damselindistress.

Learning from that mistake, we kept the rest of our ferry trips coffee-free.

We arrived in Southampton and set off on the next part of our journey, though we weren’t there long before we crossed a bridge into Woolston, where we joined a nice coastal shared use path. The day would be filled with these paths which, while pleasant, don’t allow you to pick up much speed because of the sheer amount of people milling about, walking their dogs and their offspring.

Once again we had problems with the Garmin. It seems taking it on a ferry confuses it, and for the next few hours we were without turn-by-turn directions because it thought we were following a ‘trail’. We had to rely solely on Adam’s map-reading skills, and the teeny-tiny screen which occasionally decided to zoom out completely on its own. Bloody thing.

The second ferry took us from Hamble le-Rice to Warsash. It was a dinky little pink boat. The captain insisted it was fine for us and our bikes to board, though it wasn’t the easiest feat!

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More flat roads and coastal paths. It was pleasant, but after a while I found it a little boring. I never thought I’d crave some hills, but they do break it up a bit and make it more interesting.

I was also conscious of how slowly we were progressing, due to negotiating shared-use paths. At this point I was starting to worry about how long it would take us to reach Steyning, as it was getting later all the time and it felt like we were moving so slowly.

All we could do was keep going. We went through Lee-on-the-Solent towards Gosport. One of the nice things about this route was going past the Titchfield Haven Nature Reserve.

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In Gosport we got our final ferry, which took us into Portsmouth. Having finally finished the aquatic section of the route, we turned the Garmin off and on again, as it still hadn’t moved on from that ‘trail’. Unfortunately, while this was a success in terms of getting it working again, it also lost us some more time, because when it switched back on, we had to re-load the route. For some reason it takes forever and a day to calculate routes, particularly one as long as this. We found ourselves waiting around a lot.

By this time it was the evening rush hour, which we hadn’t considered as much as the morning. We left the coast and rode inland towards Chichester, where we stopped at a pub for the usual chips and soda.

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By the time we left, it was around 8pm, and the sky was beginning to darken. We still had 30 miles to go, and our Garmin had mysteriously switched itself off.

It had been plugged into a cache battery and was at 100%, but despite this, we just couldn’t get it going again. After waiting about 10-15 minutes for it to calculate the route, it would reach around 85% and then switch off again. We went through this a few times, growing more and more frustrated, tired, and cold.

It was fast approaching 9pm, we still hadn’t left Chichester, and we couldn’t use Google Maps because my phone’s battery was low from the previous day, and Adam’s GPS is broken. We weren’t having fun anymore, so we reluctantly pedalled to the train station.

We got the train to East Worthing and managed to find our way from there. We arrived at the house at around 10:30pm, with an Indian takeaway in tow, and quietly stuffed our faces in silence.

If anyone else has experienced these kinds of issues with a Garmin, I’d like to hear about it. I can’t work out if ours is defective, or if it’s just an unreliable piece of tech. I hear mixed reviews all the time.

Despite the troubles, it was a really good experience. It taught me to ride in lower gears, for one thing, and it was my first time doing two long-distance rides consecutively. I’m definitely up for another!

 

August Adventure, Day 1: Bristol to the New Forest

We’re not going on holiday abroad this year. Instead, we’ve been looking forward to a week away in West Sussex. Long story short, we landed ourselves an opportunity to house-sit for a friend while he was away, and he lives in the quaint town of Steyning.

We knew nothing about the place, only that it was about 10 miles away from Brighton, so we planned a two-day cycling trip to get there, taking a scenic route via the New Forest for a spot of camping, before pootling along the south coast.

This was the whole route in its entirety:

Route

We set out at 6:30am on the Sunday morning for the first 80 miles of our journey. It was a nice and easy start on a familiar route, riding along the Bristol-Bath Railway Path. I’ve ridden this way so many times, but this time my bike was fully loaded and heavy, and I felt the difference very quickly. Luckily we’d given ourselves plenty of time, so we sat in a low gear and pedalled gently, starting as we meant to go on.

We stopped in Bath for a coffee, and then joined the Two Tunnels Greenway. This made me super happy, as it’s one of my favourite local rides. If you’re not local to here but visit at some point, ride the Two Tunnels. It’s an incredibly therapeutic experience.

Once we reached Midford, the Garmin did what it does best. It took us on a route that was completely unsuitable for cycling. Apparently you can ride all the way to Frome on bike paths, but we ended up on the A36 instead. After a while we got sick and tired of being passed by cars driven at a ridiculously high speed and close proximity, so I used Google Maps to re-direct us. We rejoined some nice and quiet country lanes and made our way towards Market Lavington, and then south towards Salisbury.

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En route we stopped off in Westbury to take a look at the Westbury White Horse, one of the oldest in Wiltshire.

Still using Google Maps rather than the Garmin, we somehow took a wrong turn and found ourselves on the A303, which is a rather horrible dual carriageway. One of the good things that came out of it was the remarkable view of Stonehenge that we hadn’t been expecting, but the road became more and more perilous as we went on, and it stopped being fun.

We pulled into a lay-by to buy some locally-grown strawberries, and the man at the stall very helpfully pointed us in the right direction.

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We’re just so mature.

There was a small, gated road on the other side of the dual carriageway that we could take, but that meant crossing, with our ridiculously heavy bikes.

We found ourselves running across two lanes when there was a gap in the traffic, hauling the bikes over the metal partition, before running again across another two lanes. It was scary. Also all the lifting credit goes to Adam. I physically couldn’t do it.

Once we were back on a nicer route, we made our way to Salisbury, passing through a town with a name that made us giggle, and stop, and take a photo.

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Salisbury Cathedral

I’d never been to Salisbury before, and definitely intend to go back when I’ve got more time to explore it. It’s a very pretty place, with an astounding cathedral, that we sadly didn’t have time to stop at. Next time.

We did, however, find time to stop at a pub for chips and a pint of lime and soda. This has become our staple snack on all long rides. The Salisbury 5-4-3-2-1 marathon was still in progress so we felt it better to get out of the runners’ way and give our bottoms something else to sit on for a little while.

Once fully revived, we left the city centre and headed south towards the New Forest.

It was such a beautiful place to be riding in, with fields of purple flowers surrounding us, and deciduous woodland everywhere we looked.

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We thought it was lavender. It wasn’t.

Eventually we arrived at a campsite in Ashurst, where we were finally able to shower and rest.

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We got to try out our new Solo Stove for the first time, which was a pretty cool experience. It runs on twigs, so we had free fuel everywhere we looked. It also meant I got to learn how to build a fire (with the help of matchsticks) and keep it going. It also served as a nice way to keep ourselves warm as it got darker.

We were tired, but feeling good. We’d gotten all the climbing out of the way that day, and knew that the next day would be mostly flat coastal paths, with some ferries thrown in for good measure.

Just as well, really, because neither of us got much sleep. I don’t sleep well at all when camping, which is such a shame, because I love the experience. Despite having an eye mask and ear plugs, and keeping myself dead to the world, I just couldn’t switch off. Adam slept some of the night, but was plagued with the sounds of planes, trains and automobiles.

It meant we weren’t on top form the following morning, which I’ll tell you about next time.

#WednesdayWisdom: Pass it on (part 4)

This will probably be the last instalment of this series, as I have other things I want to write about, now I’m back from my recent adventures. However if you want to see more, or if you want to contribute to the series, let me know and we’ll figure something out 🙂

For my final instalment, we turn to Lucy Greaves, the writer of one of my current favourite blogs, Brain Cranks.

I met Lucy out on a ride to Dundry Hill with some Bike Project volunteers, and I could tell straightaway that she was a confident and experienced rider. Back then I was riding Ripley, my stepthrough Ridgeback hybrid, with flat bars and flat pedals, and I was in awe of her as she sped up hills clipped in, on her Croix de Fer.

We didn’t actually talk that much on that particular day, but somehow following that we became friends, and I’ve found her to be an extraordinarily motivating and inspirational person to ride with. She’s the reason I rode 200km. She pushed me to my limits and helped me realise that I was capable of more than I thought.

Which brings me very neatly to her contribution. I’ll let her speak for herself.

Lucy Greaves

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“Over the last year, the Adventure Syndicate mantra ‘we are all capable of so much more than we think’ has lodged itself firmly in my brain and, as someone who enjoys a challenge, I’ve been enthusiastically testing that hypothesis.

Back in May I dared myself to ride 100 miles. Having ridden almost that distance last summer I had a strong suspicion I was capable of riding it, so the barrier felt psychological much more than physical. 100 is a big number. Telling myself I could do it helped get me round.

Cycle touring through Wales in June I took myself up some enormous hills, carrying a fairly hefty load of kit. As I plodded slowly upwards the mantra I repeated to myself became ‘I just can‘. As in: ‘what makes you think you can get all the way up there?’ ‘Ah, y’know, I just can‘. (That voice in my head is much cockier than I am in real life, which seems to help somehow.) There were chunks when my gears just weren’t low enough and I had to get off and push, but I never doubted that I’d get up the hills.

Last month I dared myself to ride 200km (and took an unsuspecting Mildred with me, adding to our 100-mile route). Hard though it was, I knew we just could.

Now I’ve ridden 200km, longer distances don’t seem like such enormous psychological milestones. I feel confident that I can keep riding when things get hard, and I’m keen to push myself further. I’ve been getting ill a lot recently, however, so my challenge is now to know when to stop rather than go, something I find really difficult. I need a mantra for that.”

Thank you Lucy! And on that final note, she recently wrote an interesting piece about allowing yourself to stop when you need to, which is definitely worth a read. You’ll find it here.

Until next time, folks.

#WednesdayWisdom: Pass it on (Part 3)

For this week’s instalment of #PassItOn, we’re looking to Eleanor Jaskowska, who writes at Live In The Big Ring.

Until very recently, El has been storming across Europe in her first time racing the Transcontinental. In the midst of a brutal heatwave, which has caused many riders to scratch, she made the difficult decision to put her health first and do the same. She’s done phenomenally well, and she’s a true inspiration.

Over to you, El…

Eleanor Jaskowska

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“If I cast my mind back 6 months or so to when I knew I had a place on the Transcontinental race. I knew I had some ability in me to tackle this challenge head on, but not a clue of how I would train and improve to get myself to a position where I was capable. I decided that I should spend more time riding with other ultra distance cyclists, partly to get more bike hours in but also to glean advice from their experience. Riding with Audax Club Bristol has been so much fun, as well as challenging, and they have helped me push myself so much further than I would have gone otherwise. With the help of ACB and other supportive nutters like Rickie Cotter, I’ve gone from being a so-so social cyclist to Super Randonneur (riding at least 200, 300, 400 and 600km in a season). People no longer laugh when I tell them I’m racing the TCR!

I’ve picked up so many brilliant pieces of advice, and I’m glad to be able to pass some of it on. The best piece of advice is also the most obvious: just keep pedalling.

It covers all eventualities and acknowledges that if you are riding long distance it will not all be easy. There are always down patches. But they are temporary and if you keep pedalling you ride them out.

The flip side, of course, is that the good points are also temporary, so you learn to enjoy them while they last. I’ve learned that long distance riding is all in the mind. Yes, you need a fit and conditioned body (and probably a bicycle too!) but what really makes a long distance cyclist is that ability to keep turning the cranks when everything hurts, when you’d rather be wrapped up warm, and not on a hillside in Snowdonia being beaten by rain and crosswinds at 1am.

If you can just keep pedalling you’ll ride it out and be stronger for it!”

Thanks El, for sharing this. Sometimes we need the obvious pointing out to us, when we’re grinding along and every limb is screaming. The only way to get through it is to just keep going.

I’m away next week, on my next big cycling adventure, which I can’t wait to tell you about! It means there won’t be an instalment until the week after, but I’m sure it will be worth the wait!

If you’ve got some advice you’d like to pass on, please get in touch through the Contact page!

#WednesdayWisdom: Pass it on (Part 2)

Last week I launched a new series of posts for #WednesdayWisdom, inspired by the latest issue of Casquette magazine, called Pass it On.

This week’s advice comes from Katherine Moore, who writes at Katherinebikes. I met Katherine at the Where it begins event at the Specialized Concept store, and have repeatedly been inspired by her cycling exploits.

She’s just about to join GCN and embark on the next chapter of her career, congratulations Katherine! Over to you…

Katherine Moore

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“It wasn’t from a friend, nor a fellow rider on a club run, but possibly the best piece of advice I’ve ever been given on the bike was from a professional. It took a couple of years and a whole lot of pain, but the lesson I learnt has changed the way I cycle completely.

Getting into cycling and finally finding a form of exercise that was enjoyable, I quickly caught the bug and was delighted to see how rapidly I was improving, with the help from my local clubmates. Having gained some extra weight at university, I was also very happy to find that I was slimming down to a new, more athletic form. Little did I know, that the balance had actually been tipped past what was healthy, which sparked the start of a long battle with eating disorders.

After seeking therapy for my condition and talking through the mental aspects of my health, I was still unclear on exactly how I should be fuelling my body for the sport that I was so infatuated with. I discovered Renee McGregor online; a registered sports dietician with experience ranging from amateur athletes to Paralympians.

My meeting with Renee and the meal plan that we put together highlighted just how little I was doing to fuel my rides adequately, which not only affected my performance, but also my health. By using Renee’s scientific approach to understanding how many grams of carbohydrate I would need per hour of cycling at each given intensity, I learnt to choose foods that would meet these needs and keep me at my peak of physical and mental performance.

I personally believe that underfuelling is a common mistake on rides; often cyclists seem to nosh a gel on the sly or opt for coffee only at the stops, but it’s such a crucial part of the sport. We’ve all bonked and know how bad that is, surely?! I’d recommend Renee’s book, Training Food, for anyone who’s interested in getting the most out of their riding and is keen to hear Renee dispelling a number of nutrition myths.”

I’d like to thank Katherine for sharing her story, and hope that you can take something from it. If you’ve got some advice you’d like to pass on, please get in touch through the Contact page!