I’ve been a bit quiet lately for various reasons, but namely because I’ve allowed the run-up to the General Election to completely take over my thoughts.
I’ve spent so many hours scouring information online, campaigning on behalf of my chosen political party, and occasionally wallowing in a pit of despair when things seemed hopeless.
This morning we woke up to a hung parliament, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who breathed a sigh of relief. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get political on you (that’s why I’ve stayed quiet), but this moment of limbo has allowed me some headspace to think about other things.
Social media has proven to be both damaging and enlightening, these past few weeks. I’ve become increasingly aware that the more time I spend on Facebook, the more angry and disillusioned with the world I become. The same can go for Twitter, though there are still a lot of things that keep me going back there.
Instagram is proving to be my favourite channel these days. It fills my time with photographs of beautiful bikes, cycling kit, and incredible views that make me want to burst out of my front door, clip in, and go.
So in these uncertain times, let me leave you with some suggestions of accounts to follow, so you can feel as inspired as I do.
Amelie is working her way around the world, sometimes on the bike, and sometimes off. She picks up work as a freelance yoga teacher, photographer and graphic designer, as well as taking part in various work exchanges (where you work a certain amount of hours a day in exchange for accommodation and/or food). Her Instagram account is full of gorgeous photos from her travels, and provides me with so much inspiration for my own round-the-world tour one day.
I simply had to include The Adventure Syndicate. I’ve talked about them many times before, and you should know who they are. If not, go check out their Instagram account. It gives a fascinating insight into their many adventures, following all the Syndicaters in their own individual journeys as well as the group as a whole.
Remember that mountain biking weekend I don’t stop banging on about? This is who I went with. Despite coming away a little bit broken, I regret nothing, and I’m itching to go back and try again. Polly posts lots of photos from her rural Wales adventures, sometimes with her family, sometimes solo, and sometimes with the groups she leads. The scenery is always stunning, and it’s really lovely to see her children getting started on their MTB adventures already.
I’m so glad Adam told me about this account. Jasmine Reese is travelling around the world on a bike, with her violin and her dog in tow. Expect inspirational quotes, violin recitals, stories of the kindness of strangers who have offered their hospitality, and of course, photos of her adorable doggo.
Marijn de Vries, now retired from professional racing, is cycling around the world and sharing the most stunning photographs through her Instagram account. The scenery, the selfies… the cycling kit! Just gorgeous photos that will make you want to follow in her footsteps and experience the breathtaking views for yourself.
The SheWolves are a San Diego women’s cycling crew, and they look like they have a lot of fun. As someone who is currently part of an effort to create a badass girl gang within Bristol’s cycling community, I love seeing photos of their antics and feeling inspired to create a similar vibe in my own city. If ever there were a girl gang I’d go to great lengths to be part of, this would be it.
Speaking of girl gangs…
We held another Women and Bikes social at Roll for the Soul last night. It was a much smaller group this time, which afforded us the opportunity to get a conversation going about what we should do next.
I will be organising the first outing in the near future, and posting a poll in the Women Cyclists of Bristol Facebook group, to gauge what people want in terms of distance, pace, scenery and type of adventure. I’m totally up for camping. Just saying.
Keep your eyes peeled in the group, join it if you’re not in there already, and come ride with us soon.
Riding around Bristol now, you can’t help but notice the flashes of yellow. Casually dressed cyclists pass by, sitting upright, Dutch-style, on these distinctive cruiser bikes with 26” solid rubber wheels, high handlebars and ‘join a Cycling Revolution’ printed on their frame signs.
Naturally I had to have a go, so last weekend while we were in town, we decided to hire a couple to ride home. This was partly because my feet had been torn to shreds by evil flip-flops, and partly so we could be naughty and pick up a Chinese takeaway on the way home. Ssh.
How YoBike works
Unlike its London counterpart, YoBike doesn’t require bikes to be docked in terminals. You’ll find them spread throughout the city, propped on their kickstands in pre-approved public parking areas.
All you need to do is download their app, create an account and enter your card details. Your first ride is free, and after that it’s £1 for every hour you have the bike.
Simply find an available YoBike, select ‘Unlock bike’ on the app and scan the QR code on its rear lock. You’ll need to have your location settings and Bluetooth switched on. The bike will automatically unlock, and now it’s available to ride. Quick release skewers allow for a swift saddle height adjustment, and then you’re good to go!
Once you’re done, you need to leave the bike at one of the approved public parking spaces, highlighted on the map. If there’s nothing near you, you can park them in a public bike parking area (where there are racks), and send a couple of photos, along with the location details to the YoBike team, so they can add the area to their map. Select ‘End journey’ on the app, and the bike will automatically lock. It’s pretty nifty.
Within the app you’ll find an interactive map of the city, which points out the locations of all available YoBikes, and the areas where you can leave them. Their zone coverage seems to be pretty good as well. We saw bikes left outside the UWE campus near Filton, and we were able to cycle them home to Kingswood, which is about 5 miles from the city centre.
Square one wobbles
I have to say, I’m not very experienced when it comes to riding many varieties of bikes. Now that I’m so used to being in the racier position that Regina puts me in, returning to an upright position threw me a bit! The handlebars are very wide, and raised really high above the stem, so it has that feel of a Dutch bike (which personally I’m not a fan of, but it will appeal to many).
It’s always like riding a bike for the first time, and I started off quite wobbly! It took me most of the journey to adjust to the upright position and the sensitivity of the steering. I’ve gotten so used to steering with my body, so it was strange to go back to steering with the handlebars. However I can see that this will work really well for people who don’t normally cycle, and will be familiar to those who are used to hiring town bikes in large cities.
The only misgiving I’d raise really, is that they’re not ideal bikes for the hills of Bristol, having just three gears. Riding up the Bristol-Bath Railway Path towards home, it’s only a gentle incline but I found myself working up quite a sweat in the middle gear. I can imagine a lot of people who live in uphill areas, such as Clifton and Redland, may hire these bikes to cycle down into town, but will be unlikely to ride them back up again towards home! This could result in some uneven distribution of bikes, though perhaps the YB team are aware of this and will re-disperse them. I know they’re very quick to respond to misplaced and abandoned bikes, thanks to their in-built GPS trackers, so they’re definitely out on the roads.
The most interesting part of that journey was realising that I felt a bit like an outsider.
It’s not like I felt as though I was the butt of any jokes, but I was very aware that the bikes drew a lot of attention from the more ‘serious’ cyclists, and a few knowing smiles. Lacking a helmet, wearing flip-flops, and being ever so slightly wobbly as I adjusted to the unfamiliar riding position, I can only imagine what I must have looked like.
It’s certainly made me more aware of the judgements we’re very quick to make about other cyclists. After all, while YoBikes certainly will appeal to those wanting to get into cycling without yet investing in their own bike, it also makes for a really convenient way to get somewhere when your other transport plans haven’t panned out.
If the buses aren’t running properly (do they ever run a good service in Bristol?), it’s much cheaper and quicker to jump on a YoBike. You won’t be prepared with a helmet, and you may not have the most practical shoes, but you’re as much a cyclist as the guy in lycra next to you at the lights, smiling with an air of ‘aww, bless’.
It’s a great scheme, and has been a glaring omission from Bristol until now. It’s exactly what’s needed to get would-be cyclists out of their cars and onto two wheels. Long may it continue.
About a month ago, a meeting was called. El gathered a bunch of women cyclists together in the upstairs area of Roll for the Soul, to discuss the lack of community among the women cyclists of Bristol.
We agreed that there are plenty of women cycling in Bristol now, and it was time to create a feeling of cohesion among us. We all brought forth ideas, from putting together women-only day rides, to weekend camping adventures, and drinks socials.
We held our first social on 11th May, and I’m really pleased to say that it was a big success! There was a great turn-out, taking over the downstairs area of RftS, where women mingled, drank beer, ate awesome veggie food and got to know their fellow lady riders.
We paused the chatter to have a group-wide discussion, which gave people the platform to promote their own events and groups, and show everyone what’s already available to get involved in. I’ll list these here.
They’re not all women-only, so lads, you’re allowed to join in too (unless we say otherwise):
Food Cycle collect waste food from local businesses by bike, and distribute it to various charities and local ‘skipchens’ for use.
They also cook and serve their own community meals across the UK.
If you have time during the week (or on a Saturday morning), they’re always looking for volunteers to cycle around the city with a trailer and collect food that’s been pre-agreed with the businesses involved.
It’s a lovely way to cycle around the city and give something back to the community.
Women Cyclists of Bristol – Closed group for women cyclists, to discuss anything we wouldn’t talk about in a mixed group (from street harassment to periods). They also have their own Twitter account and email address, where you can get in touch if you need advice or want to share something with other women cyclists in the city.
Bristol Biking Bitches – This group is full of women who love to get out on their bikes as much as possible, and frequently post in the group to invite others along for the ride. Full of roadies and MTBers, they’re a great group to be part of if you want to go riding with some company.
I wasn’t taking notes on the night, so naturally I’ve probably forgotten a few things. If there’s anything I should add to this, please let me know.
The next social will be at Roll for the Soul at 7pm, on Thursday 8th June. Hope to see you there!
At the risk of descending into a rant, I want to reflect on a recent experience that left me exasperated, because it highlights the importance of finding the right people to ride with, so you get the most out of your group riding experience.
I want to go on more group rides. So far I’ve been on a couple of Breeze rides, a couple of social rides with my fellow Bristol Bike Project volunteers, and of course, the monthly Critical Mass, which is always huge fun.
I decided to go along to a 40-mile group ride on Sunday – I won’t name the group I rode with – and can certainly say I learned a lot from the experience. I’m sure there will be plenty of people who read the following and nod their heads, thinking ‘this is absolutely the right way to ride as a group’. Others will shake their heads and feel as perplexed as I do.
This isn’t a post about the right or wrong way to ride in a group. I don’t know the right way to ride in a group, because I’m not part of any cycling clubs. I just know how I feel about what happened on Sunday, and want to reflect.
Riding as one
This isn’t specific to the group, and in fact it also relates to some previous rides I’ve been on. In my opinion, a group should ride at the pace of their slowest rider. Otherwise, they become disjointed and the riders at the back can be left feeling excluded and alienated. Furthermore, it’s the job of the ride leader to make sure that everyone in the group reaches each checkpoint before moving on. To me, this seems basic.
On Sunday, our group was extremely disjointed. Before setting out, our ride leader asked for someone to volunteer as a back marker, and a lady immediately offered herself up, stating that she should because she was the slowest. Red flag. She spent the whole day miles behind us, riding alone for a lot of it.
If a group rides together, there should be no need to stop at certain checkpoints to re-group, but this isn’t always the case. Our ride leader would advise us of the next point where we would regroup, and then set off at his own pace.
That was, until he stopped waiting for us at the checkpoints. We reached a point where, upon arriving in Bath, our ride leader was nowhere to be found. A couple of other riders were waiting for us there, and told us where the next checkpoint was, passed down from him before he’d moved on without them.
It was at this point that I remembered at the start, he gave out his phone number and stated “we have lost people before”, and suddenly it all made sense how. To me, this is not how you lead a ‘group’ ride.
As we were riding along the Bristol-Bath Railway Path, I started to notice a pattern in the way one of the riders used her bell. At first, she was the only one, and I assumed it was just her way of riding. Whenever we approached pedestrians, or were about to overtake some cyclists, she rang her bell twice.
This didn’t bother me at first. I understand it’s helpful to alert people to your presence. However after a while, a lot of the other riders started doing it. I put this down to the group splitting up; at first she rang on behalf of the whole group, but once we separated into smaller units, each unit gained at least one self-certified bell-ringer.
While bells are there for a reason, they can come across as aggressive if overused. Eventually the group took me to my wit’s end with their incessant ringing. They didn’t just ring politely ahead of time to alert pedestrians to their presence. They waited until they were practically on their heels, and then rang several times to move them out the way. Groups of two or three riders together would ring at the same time.
There were multiple occasions on the towpath (which is extremely narrow and was heaving with people enjoying the sunshine), where I encountered very ratty and hostile people who didn’t want to let me past, because they’d just been harassed by a hoard of bell-happy cyclists ahead of me.
For those of you familiar with the path, you’ll know that there are several bridges with single-file only pathways and restricted views of the other side. At one point as we approached a bridge, three riders in front of me gained on a pedestrian couple who were about to walk under the bridge. Instead of slowing and waiting, they all rang their bells multiple times, forcing the couple to step aside and let them through. As you’d imagine, one of them became very hostile towards the group, swearing at us and claiming right of way. This was met with dismissive comments among the riders: “oh dear, was there an altercation with an angry pedestrian?”
I use my bell sparingly. If I’m approaching a large group of people and there’s limited passing space, I ring my bell ahead of time, to alert them of my presence and give them time to shift over a bit and let me pass. I ring my bell if approaching a narrow underpass with only room for one person at a time, in case someone is approaching from the other side. Or, I occasionally ring my bell if approaching a person with misbehaving children or multiple dogs, in case they’re too preoccupied to know I’m there. Again, I leave plenty of time for them to become aware of me, and choose what to do with that information.
If I’m approaching a couple walking side by side and need to overtake, I don’t ring my bell. Instead, I call out to them: “Just to your right”, or the timeless classic: “Excuse me, please”. It’s not difficult to do. It establishes a rapport. It’s personal. To them, you become a fellow human being on a bike, rather than a silent bell-ringing wheel-mounted lunatic.
What annoyed me the most on that towpath was that I was riding ahead of one of these bell-happy groups, who were very close behind. If ever I approached some pedestrians, before I got the chance to call out to them, my companions rang their bells on my behalf. As I noted earlier, some of these people had already been hassled by hoards of bell-ringers. Needless to say, these people then thought it was me ringing at them, and diverted their hostility towards me. Thanks, guys.
Name that thing
As I said before, I’m not an experienced group rider, but it’s my understanding that there are times when it’s appropriate to call out to your group to warn them of a hazard. For example, if you’re riding along a country road and a car approaches in the opposite direction, you’d call out “car down” to alert riders behind you so they can get into single file. The same goes for a car approaching from behind, and “car up”.
I can get on board with that. That makes sense. It keeps the group safe.
What doesn’t make sense, and has no bearing on the group’s safety whatsoever, is to call out “bike down” and “bike up” for literally every other cyclist ON A TWO-WAY CYCLE PATH.
I mean, really? Seriously? Don’t you have anything better to do?
What purpose can it possibly serve, to let the riders know behind you that other cyclists are approaching in a separate lane? If you’re riding two abreast in a group, then fair enough. You need to tell the others to move over. But this wasn’t the case.
This was when we were riding through the Two Tunnels Greenway, which you ride in single-file because they are in total darkness. You expect other riders to come in the opposite direction, many without lights, and you ride in single file. If you’re riding two abreast in those tunnels and feel the need to call out approaching cyclists, you must be an idiot with a death wish.
What’s more, they not only called out every single cyclist in an enclosed, echoey tunnel with acoustics that carry, so everyone else can hear… they also called out things like “cyclist down, no lights”. To me, all this does is call another person out on a mistake they’ve made, and make them feel bad about it. It’s just not necessary. Play nice.
On a lighter note, once we caught on that this was happening, Adam made me laugh hysterically by calling out “dog up” for a dog that was miles away. We continued to play ‘name that thing’ for the rest of our time with the group.
If there’s any purpose to this post other than venting my frustrations, it’s to say that if you decide to get out on some group rides, take the time to find a group of people you can ride happily with. Everyone is different, and groups vary in their etiquette and habits. Make sure the group is for you, and if it’s not, find a way to excuse yourself and try a different one.
I’ve talked before about how I probably know more than I think I do, but lack the confidence to trust my own judgement. I was also really interested to hear about Lucy’s experience volunteering at Women’s (& Trans) Night at The Bristol Bike Project. Being a trainee in a shop full of experienced mechanics, she found that Women’s Night offered the perfect opportunity to really test her own knowledge, and found that she was able to help those less experienced than her.
So, it was only inevitable that I would experience the same thing, and I’m so happy that I did. I heard that they were struggling to find someone to coordinate the session due to unavailability, and that no one was around to volunteer. There was talk of not running the session. Thankfully we found a coordinator, and I agreed to go along as a volunteer, to be on hand if people needed help.
Side note: Women & Trans Night is an open workshop where members of the public can use the space and the tools to work on their own bike, in a safe environment where they can explore and learn together. A coordinator runs the session, and volunteers are on hand to help out if someone needs a bit of guidance.
Honestly, I was actually terrified. I’d been to Women’s Night before and I knew that it was a nice, laid back atmosphere, but suddenly I felt under pressure to perform. I was actually revising the night before, testing my knowledge, running through common problems and how I would solve them. I even spent about 20 minutes trying to get my head around the difference between a freewheel and a cassette, just in case it came up.
As it happens, I had no reason to fear. I was under the impression that it would just be Gabi and myself, but we ended up inundated with volunteers – confident women who knew exactly what they were doing. If anything, I felt superfluous to requirements for a while.
But throughout the course of the evening, the workshop filled up with women who had a variety of jobs to do on their bikes, and I had a chance to help out. I showed one woman how to change her tires and talked her through fixing a puncture while out on the road, checked her gears, and explained the difference between the front and rear sets. I then helped another check her chain wear and cassette, gave her some maintenance tips and left her happily cleaning and polishing. At the end of the night I helped another woman out with a rather dodgy V Brake calliper. We finally got it in place, only to discover that her newly inflated tire was completely flat. You win some and you lose some.
Listing it off, it doesn’t sound like I did a huge amount, but I spent some quality time with some very nice people and saw the spark in their eyes as they connected with their bikes. Particularly with the tire changes – the first one was an absolute beast which I really wrestled with, and she was quite nervous about trying the second herself. But a bit of brute force and three tire levers later, she slipped it off and popped the new one on, and she looked so proud as she pumped it up and saw that it was, in fact, put on right.
It was really rewarding, and I can completely understand what Lucy was getting at in her interview. It’s a wonderful feeling to see women who have never considered fixing their own bikes before, suddenly feel empowered to learn as much as they can.
On a personal level it was satisfying to be able to help others, and realise that I can problem solve and explain some things articulately. I definitely need to work on the latter, but I felt that the women I spoke to left with an understanding rather than feeling confused.
This February for me is all about the femme, and I wanted to dedicate a month to celebrating women in the bike industry, with a particular focus on Bristol’s cycling community.
So without further ado I’m going to kick off with the first in a series of interviews I have lined up for the month.
Lucy Greaves is a trainee Bike Mechanic and volunteer at The Bristol Bike Project, who I met (along with her Croix de Fer, Toby) on a social ride to Dundry Hill. She very kindly agreed to tell me her life story and share some really interesting insights from the perspective of a woman in the workshop.
Name: Lucy Greaves
Profession: Bike mechanic / Translator / Cycle Instructor / soon-to-be Barista at Roll for the Soul
Tell me about when you first learned to ride a bike.
I don’t actually remember, but I must have been around 5 when my dad taught me. I’ve got vivid memories of riding along the front lawn at my mum and dad’s house, which was quite long and flat. Beyond that I’m not sure, it’s just that one image.
Have you always ridden or did you take any breaks?
I’ve ridden fairly consistently. My mum and dad are keen cyclists, so we spent a lot of time cycling together as a family: I used to ride on the back of the tandem with my dad! As a teenager I stopped riding so much, but then in Sixth Form I had a couple of jobs that I needed to get to so I started to cycle for convenience, and that’s when I got excited about riding again.
What types of bikes have you ridden?
I’ve mostly ridden road bikes, though I’ve done a bit of mountain biking. My parents live on the north Wales border where there are some good trails, it would’ve been rude not to!
I recently bought a Croix de Fer for touring, in time for a 5-week ride around the UK last summer.
Can you tell me more about that ride?
I covered about 1,250 miles, starting and ending in Bristol. I rode to Brighton, then up towards Edinburgh, on to Glasgow and back down again. I didn’t train for it, and it was hard work to start with but I soon got into it and loved it. It was at a time when I really needed some headspace.
Are you planning another long ride soon?
I’m actually planning to ride the west and north coast of Scotland in late spring with my girlfriend, for a couple of weeks. We’ll be covering a large chunk of the North Coast 500 route.
Do you name your bikes?
Yes! My Croix de Fer is a girl called Toby, then I have a gorgeous steel framed beast I inherited from my dad called Reg – he’s my town bike. And then I also have a road bike inherited from my dad, but it’s too early in our relationship for a name.
When did you first become interested in fixing bikes?
I’ve been able to do bits and bobs since I was a teenager – my dad showed me the basics. I’ve always known that it was a skill set I wanted to develop. I did a maintenance course at The Bristol Bike Project a couple of years ago and then started volunteering with them last year. It was around the time that my other volunteering had slowed down; I knew I wanted to volunteer still, and I was becoming increasingly bike nerdy, so it made sense.
When did you decide you wanted to be a bike mechanic?
It all happened around the same time. I was becoming frustrated with my translation work, and started to feel like that career wasn’t working for me. At the same time I was volunteering and enjoying the bike stuff, and while out on that summer ride I realised that I wanted to be doing something different. I guess I was hoping for an epiphany, and it came in the form of ‘more bikes’!
The next step after that was continuing with the volunteering, until I eventually saw the Bike Project advertising for a mechanic. I’m proud to say I got the first job I applied for, and feel really jammy for it. I wasn’t super experienced, so they took me on as a trainee: I’m training and working with them one day a week for the time being. I’d definitely like to do more.
So how’s it going so far?
Well, last Tuesday we got a donated bike out and stripped it down, and then started building it back up from scratch. That’s the first time I’d done that, and I got to discover some tools I hadn’t used before, like the headset press which is a lot of fun! Also the crown race remover – a massive tool for such a tiny piece.
What was the first break-through you had?
I wouldn’t really say I’ve had any one breakthrough moment. Over the last few weeks I’ve started volunteering at their Women’s Night, helping other women fix their bikes. I’ve been able to show people what to do, which has made me realise I’m not totally clueless. When I’m in the shop with the boys I sometimes feel a bit of a numpty, but in this different context I feel more like I know what I’m doing.
Do you feel there’s a gender divide?
Not necessarily, it’s just that when I’m in the shop I’m working amongst more experienced people, whereas in the workshop I’m helping women who are less experienced and looking to me for guidance.
I wonder whether might be easier to fit in with the boys as a queer woman, though. I mentioned wanting to build a bike trailer, and Pi suggested teaching me to weld. Soon I’ll be ticking off all the lesbian stereotypes!
What were the biggest challenges you faced as a new mechanic?
Feeling like I don’t know enough! I like being good at things, and I’m still learning so much. It’s challenging to admit to not knowing how to do things. Even mentioning that I’d only just discovered those tools before – that’s going to be in the public domain now! I’ve definitely got a good dose of imposter syndrome.
But I’m having a really great time there and I love going to work. If anything it’s made my fairly shit translation job feel even worse – when I’m doing it I think to myself, I could be fixing bikes! I only do it a couple of days a week but I’m not as motivated on those days.
Do you feel that it’s more challenging being a female mechanic?
No, not necessarily. The Bike Project is a fairly radical and unusual place, and I’ve experienced nothing but support. It can be different in the shop though. A couple of male customers have stared past me whilst looking for someone with a penis.
On the flipside, I was talking to one of the women who shares my office, and she said she’d be looking for a woman to help her in a bike shop. So it also works in my favour, and there’s quite an equal weighting of male and female customers.
What’s the best thing about being a female bike mechanic?
I enjoy doing something unstereotypically female and smashing gender boundaries. I also love volunteering at the Women’s Night and empowering other women to fix their bikes. It’s a really supportive atmosphere; there are women who know more than others, but there’s a general sense that if we aren’t sure, we’ll look it up and learn together. It’s a process of discovery.
Even if the guys aren’t doing anything to make you feel inferior, it’s easy to belittle yourself because you’re afraid of not knowing. Having that safe space to explore together is really powerful.
Britain has been very soggy and grey of late, which forced me to buy some waterproofs. That’s not a terrible thing to spend some money on, except at the time of buying I was particularly broke, so I bought the cheapest things I could get, just to get by.
The over-trousers are particularly dorky, but then I’ve yet to find a pair that aren’t. Waterproof jackets on the other hand, are abundant, and there are some really nice ones out there if you’ve got the budget.
I don’t right now, but as I stare out the window at the drizzle and the misery (or, the drizzery), I can but dream of the day I can add these stylist jackets to my waterproof wardrobe:
I have to confess, I’m not your average Bike Blogger. I haven’t been riding a bike since I could walk, I haven’t been tinkering with tools since I could talk, I’ve never ridden a fixie, drop handlebars terrify me, and I get nervous when riding downhill.
I’m a blogger at heart. I love writing and sharing my thoughts with anyone who wants to read them, but in the last year or so I’ve been short of content. My blogging habits depend heavily on what I’ve got going on in my life, and they tend to thrive when I’m learning something new.
I spent a couple of years blogging about food, because I was learning to cook and discovering ingredients I’d never heard of before. Now I cook on autopilot and I no longer feel the need to share my experiments in the kitchen.
I spent a year or so blogging about online dating because, let’s face it, the whole process can be hilarious and I had some horrific experiences that people could laugh at. My online dating days are over now.
I even had an academic blog for a while, when I was fresh out of my Masters and convinced I was going to be this renowned professor of Art History. That dream died, hard.
So last night, following another rejection from a job that I really wanted, in a moment of hopelessness, I asked myself: “what’s going on?”
What’s the story of my life right now? What am I learning about? What do I want to immerse myself in?
The answer was right there in front of me, leaning against the wall in my kitchen, with my helmet hanging from its handlebars and my hoodie draped half-arsed across its rear rack.
I’ve been commuting by bike for the last three years or so, and while I’ve always enjoyed cycling, it was never really much more than a way of getting to work and back.
That was until this summer, when I started volunteering at The Bristol Bike Project. Over the past 5 or 6 months I’ve been slowly learning about bikes: how they’re put together, how to fix them when they break, and how much more connected you can feel with them when you give them your time and attention.
Since then I started getting out on more rides, I’ve become more involved in Bristol’s cycling community, Critical Mass, and more. And now I feel ready to write about it.
This blog is a space for me to explore and learn. If you’re a seasoned cyclist or bike mechanic, it’s all going to seem pretty basic. But if you’re like me – if you know you like bikes but you’re not able to explain why, if you’d love to learn more about them, if you want to learn to fix them but you’re nervous about getting stuck in – maybe you can learn with me.