Re: The Sunday Spin 13.04.08

Richards account of Sunday's ride preserved for posterity in the blog. (Apologies to subscribers who get this twice)

It didn't look too promising as we gathered at Barkers Pool on Sun for a run to Old Moor and beyond, but by the time we reached Meadowhall and our first Flapjack moment (thanks Polly!) the damp had dwindled, leaving the 7 of us cold but dry.

Out over the Wentworth vale we went, following the crystal clear Sustrans route signage (thanks Simon) to Elsecar, where both warm toilets and a vast array of antiques were sampled, followed by a burnup with Thomas the Tank engine's badly dressed bird 'Louise'. By gum she was a goer (and a heavy smoker), but Simon had the measure of her!

The mud on the Elsecar greenway was free, so we picked up as much as we could carry and took it to the Old Moor visitor centre, where we sampled the excellent scran, some of us to the point of the full Sunday Monty - highly recommended.

Everyone started Twitching at this point, Simon put it down to our proximity to Barnsley, but really it was in sympathy with Polly and Tony who couldn't pull themselves away and jumped bike at this point, as did Rob, who raced his slow puncture back to Chapeltown for a pint at the Wentworth brewery tap - aka the Commercial .

The remaining Quartet carried on racing Chris's slow puncture on a grand tour of Cudworth and Darfield, as there is not yet an old railway line cycle route option (plenty of old lines to do it with though) and rejoined the TPT at Shaw Bridge so as to catch the delights of the Barnsley canal around Royston, where they do at least change the broken glass on the trail regularly.

We spun on through the Dingly and at times excitingly Spooky woods twixt Royston and Walton (g'night JimBob), through Haw Park, (Canals have never been so stately!) and on to the whole point of the ride, the Kings Arms at Heath, where we ate our butties illegally, the Blond proved v popular with Simon, and Patrese gave Chris a tour of Heath's posh environs.

All that remained was a wobble to Wakefield Westgate, where we forced our way guns blazing on to an unsuspecting Arriva XC, and zipped to Sheffield and a Boll#@%ing from the crew.

And that was that - hope to see you on the tram on Sun - maybe with MTB for a change!

A poem for monday morning

On the road in traffic,
maintain your position.
Be obvious, not erratic.

Signal your intention,
to change your position,
by turning your head and
lifting your arm.

You must be aware
of blind spots
in the mirrors of other drivers.

You must behave
as if you are a driver.
You are NOT invisible!

Try continuously to see
the surface of the road,
looking for potholes, slick paint, rail tracks, obstacles,
as well as the flow of traffic.

See, hear & feel.
Observe everything,
but avoid distractions.
Don't use an iPod.
Be present and alert always.

Change to a low gear,
before you come to a stop.

Your front brake is powerful, use it
as you shift your balance.
backwards and down.

Your back brake
will skid the rear wheel,
if you squeeze too hard.

Above all,
cooperate with others.
Practice harmony
but be ready to respond
Instantaneously.

Do not be afraid,
there is nothing to fear,
but fear itself.

by
Graham Cooper
Executive Director
Bicycle Driver Training Institute
http://www.bicycledriver.org
206-325-6551

BDTI is a Seattle non-profit with 501c3 status.

How to look chic on a bike

http://copenhagengirlsonbikes.blogspot.com/


It might not work for me!

InToday's inbox

(i) Cllr Jillian Creasey sent us to us:
ode to a stolen bike

I wonder if you can add this poem to our poet’s corner? It was sent by a
Green Party supporter who lives in the city centre back in May 2007 – have
been meaning to send it on ever since.
Jillian
Have copied to pedal pushers, cos they will appreciate it too!


Not new, not shiny, not even that clean

Chipped paint and worn rings, a faded has-been

My faithful companion, my true friend in need

My great Alpine Star, my light agile steed





Street value zero, soul value high

I'll be looking for you till the day that I die


Saved my money for months to call you my own

At age seventeen I first took you home

Built and re-built you with passion and care

Repaid me in full in the clear Yorkshire air


All the times that I suffered with angst and with pain

Your silent support helped me feel once again

Showed me joy without measure, the wild open space

Gave me freedom and reason, returned me to grace


You can't be replaced though a pretender may try

Perhaps ease the loss and the shock of this crime

But all the miles travelled, the time that we stole

Will forever be there making tracks in my soul

(ii) Travelling wisely in Paris- Click Here

(iii)