There is no war on the roads between cyclists and drivers. After all, many bike riders are also motorists and vice versa. However there is an abundance of atrocious drivers and a surfeit of seriously bad cyclists. The interface between these two urban tribes (if they can be called that) and any interaction involving just one or other of them, is all too often characterised by large quantities of two things; “sound and fury” - almost always signifying nothing. No all-out war then, but plenty of skirmishes. As a cyclist it’s hard to know how to deal with being the object of a driver’s irrational tantrums. Road rage has no etiquette but maybe it should.     Remaining calm is always a good Zen-like state to aim for but it’s all too often, easier said than done. If you’ve just come close to being hit by several tons of rapidly-moving metal, you’re likely to be in an extreme panic from the outset. This clouds judgement and makes it much more...

A crowded peleton is not the best place to spit Even the most-refined ‘bicyclists’ do it after a while. Go on the rivet for more than five minutes or so and you will also want to expectorate from the saddle. All vestiges of decorum very quickly get dropped in these circumstances. Spitting in public isn’t pretty but flinging the phlegm is fairly standard practice amongst professional athletes and sports-people of all kinds -  why not then, the humble bike commuter too? There is no official etiquette for rasping your guts up whilst in the saddle but I have found that it helps yourself, and others, to follow a few simple ground rules. The key maxim is, ‘look before you spit’. I always glance over my shoulder before launching an oral ‘projectile’. I have been sitting in someone’s wheel more than once, only to find myself dodging their unwanted sputum as it flies backwards towards me. Maybe that’s payback for being a wheelsucker! I try to spit t...

Call me a Lycra lout. I don’t mind in the least. Sneer the word, “cyclist” at me, in the manner of Beckett’s glorious tramp Estragon, spitting out the withering insult, “critic” to his fellow derelict, Vladimir. I don’t care. But accuse me of being a fair-weather pedaller and you’ll have found my soft underbelly. Don’t you dare! In fact, I cycle all year round, in all weather, except for deep snow (and that’s purely a logistical decision). That doesn’t mean that winter commuting by bike is easy. I’ve been spinning out in Arctic conditions for long enough to have built up a reliable system for keeping the chill at bay – even in the saddle. This can be summed up in the single word – layers. Certain products have also played their part in keeping me on the bike, come rain, sleet or icy-blue-sky. Here’s a summary of five pieces of winter kit I couldn’t do without (in no particular order). 1 – ANYTHING MADE FROM MERINO WOOL I pay homage to ...

Even your best friends won’t tell you. You smell. It’s counter-intuitive to realise there’s something negative about cycling in to work. The positives are legion. It’s healthy, it keeps motor traffic down, it’s cheaper than train or bus and it sets you up for the day, buzzing from a pleasing endorphin rush. But unless you have a carefully-planned, post-ride strategy you run the risk of alienating work colleagues and having them whisper grumpily about you behind your back. The first determinant in how well you will cope with entering the workplace dripping sweat and road debris onto the corporate carpet, is whether or not your employers provide any facilities for the two wheeled-worker. More than twenty years ago, this wasn’t even a question you could ask. There were no work changing rooms or showers in those days. You had to stand at the sink, in the toilets - often on tiptoes - trying to swab as much of your torso clean as you could manage in the cramp...