Wheels, Pedals, Person

Something right next to my ear was making an incredible racket and it took me a few seconds to work out what it was. Turned out to be my alarm clock and it was 6am. Maybe staying up late with family drinking wine wasn't such a good idea after all. Although leaping out of bed (a couple of hours later) I managed a couple of cups of coffee, some breakfast and getting myself dressed and out of the door into the cold (although closer to 10am than the 'early start' I'd planned). At least it was still morning!

As I'm from Northumberland and always return for Christmas to spend the holidays with my family my Festive 500 would be in Northumberland rather than around London where I currently live. So for the first stage of my Festive 500 I planned to head north up the coast and see a couple of the many castles in Northumberland; Dunstanburgh and Bamburgh. I was setting off from the coastal village of Alnmouth, a tiny village that has seen a lot of history through its long life so a fitting place to start my Festive 500. The village was mentioned by the Venerable Bede in the Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum in 731 and according to the Encyclopaedia Metropolitana Alnmouth was taken and fortified by the French during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. Alnmouth was also once a smuggling port and was even attacked by the American privateer John Paul Jones during the American War of Independence. In 1779, Jones fired a cannonball at the town which landed in a field before hitting a farmhouse. 

Leaving Alnmouth I headed up the coastal route towards the tiny village of Boulmer, a small fishing community, and on towards Craster. The little fishing village of Craster is the producer of Craster Kippers, or cured herrings, and the smell of the smokehouse smoke often wafts across the pretty little harbour. 

By the time I was leaving Craster I started to get a bit more into my ride. Often you just have to start and certainly a headache and hangover is just the sort of thing to keep you indoors on a grey and damp day but after warming up on the first few miles I started to really enjoy myself. Standing up on the pedals I pushed up a couple of the hills and my bike sprang to life underneath me, as if to say "Finally, you're putting some effort in!".

Just next to Craster is the ruined Dunstanburgh Castle, the largest castle in Northumberland which was started in 1313 by the Earl of Lancaster but evidence suggests the site has been occupied since prehistoric times. During the War of the Roses the castle was slightly damaged and not repaired, so slowly the castle fell into decay. But by all accounts it was a very comfortable castle with a high standard of comfort and design; certainly it's an imposing sight on the coast. Though as I was cycling up north I didn't stop at the castle but carried on up past Beadnell and on towards Bamburgh Castle.

Covering a few more miles up the coast I eventually found myself riding along the beach-side road towards Bamburgh Castle, the castle looming in the mist on it's rocky outcrop. The castle itself was home to the native Britons known as Din Guarie and may have been the capital of the British kingdom of the region. The castle was then captured by the Anglo-Saxon ruler Ida of Bernicia before bring briefly retaken by the Britons then subsequently destroyed by Vikings in 993. Later, the Normans built a castle on the same site which can be still seen as the core of the current castle. Years later Bamburgh Castle became the property of Henry II and was a target for regular raids from Scotland and during the Wars of the Roses became the first castle to be defeated by artillery at the end of a 9 month siege by the Earl of Warwick. After this time the castle had many owners and slowly fell into disrepair until the Victorian industrialist William Armstrong bought it and completed the restoration and the castle still remains in the Armstrong family today.

Although it was a week day and the castle was closed it was lovely to spend some time near this imposing building and the last climb up the steep driveway to the castle gate reminded me of climbing Mont Ventoux a couple of months ago. But as the usual Northumberland weather was in place; grey and damp, I decided to return back.

It was a damp but very pleasant ride back and as it's Christmas eve a large dinner awaited me that evening, and some more alcohol; a common theme during this holiday, I suspect. But I guess that's the point of the Festive 500; balancing some of the excesses of the season with getting out on two wheels and I can't think of many better places than Northumberland! 

Oh, and in case you're interested, it's 'Northumberland' not 'Northumbria'; that was a mediaeval kingdom. ;)

Distance: 76.3km
Remaining: 423.7km
Strava Ride Data

Next: Festive 500 Stage 2: The Harbour

There is a quote attributed to Edward Counsel: "Wars of pen and ink often lead to wars of cannon and bayonets.". I can't help thinking this way about this new schlock TV programme The War on Britain's Roads. Calling something a 'war' when it is not a war cannot help in any way. Instead of using this rhetoric we all need to be looking after each other rather than 'fighting' an imaginary war!

To give an example, two things happened to me on my cycle to work this morning. Firstly I was signalling right to turn but as I started to move a vehicle dangerously passed me at speed, forcing me to move back across the road. At this time a vehicle that had been tail-gating me was attempting to force its way past me on the inside. Despite me indicating and riding safely I had one vehicle on one side forcing me out of the lane and a vehicle on the other side trying to force me the other way. I stopped and went up to the car whereupon the lady inside was shouting at me "You should be more careful!". I eventually had the chance to explain to her actually what was happening and how I had to avoid two drivers, her included, and she apologised and even blew me a kiss when she drove off. Instead of seeing me as a 'crazy cyclist all over the road', she realised that I was simply trying to cycle to work and doing the best I could do to avoid being hit by two vehicles!

Later, while going reasonably fast, my front tyre blew out. As my tyre was deflating fast, I signalled (it's in the Highway Code if you need to know the correct 'I am slowing down' signal) and brought my bicycle to a safe stop. But even before I could get off it I had a car blaring his horn, revving his engine and using his vehicle to intimidate me by getting far too close! He mimed to me that I was 'weaving' and so I explained I had a puncture! In the time it took me to get off the road a 4x4 behind him was blaring its horn too; both because they'd been slowed down for less than 20 seconds while I moved to the side of the road.

No...it's not a 'war' at all but calling it that means people can continue to de-humanise others and allow them to risk other people's lives on a daily basis. BBC commisioners and the production team a Leopard Films; you have added to the danger on the roads.

This 'war' which you confect could very well become real.

Registrant Name:Chris Michael

Registrant Organization:Hicklin Slade & Partners Ltd

Registrant Street1:20 Farringdon Road

Registrant Street2:Farringdon Place

Registrant Street3:

Registrant City:London

Registrant State/Province:LIN

Registrant Postal Code:EC1M 3HE

Registrant Country:GB

Registrant Phone:+44.2033012189

Registrant Phone Ext.:

Registrant FAX:

Registrant FAX Ext.:

Registrant Email:mat.dunning@karmarama.com

Dear Karmarama,

I am contacting you to suggest that you immediately remove your “Cycle
Smart” web page and any signs which you may have put up in London which
suggest that cyclists who get killed deserve it because they’re twats.
As a cyclist in London, I am all too aware that I could be “squished”, “crushed”
or “smashed” by a lorry, bus, van or car. I do not need a billboard gleefully
telling me that this would probably be my own fault.

I work as an anaesthetist and have recently had the unpleasant task of being
part of the team which desperately tried to resuscitate a young woman who
was crushed by a lorry. She was an experienced and sensible rider. She died
on our operating table. The lorry driver was later jailed.
Perhaps you’d like to write a limerick about her?

Another recent example of a non-twat who was extremely seriously injured by
a lorry is Mary Bowers. You may be aware of how passionately her
colleagues at the Times have been campaigning for a greater culture of safety
on our roads.
Your billboards and website aim to undo some of this good work by
reinforcing the prejudices of drivers who feel that cyclists are invisible, foolish
menaces on the road, so it could hardly be their fault if they hurt them.

I assume that this is an attempt to increase the visibility of your brand rather
than a campaign commissioned by any group interested in road safety.
Either way, it has been ill-conceived and poorly executed.

Dr. Tabitha Tanqueray.

Rising 1,912 meters from the Provençal landscape, Mont Ventoux is geographically part of the Alps but stands alone north of the Luberon range. The upper slopes of Ventoux is bare limestone and the lower parts covered in ancient forest, part of the UNESCO Réserve de Biosphère du Mont Ventoux. The mountain is said to have received its name from Vintur, the Gaulish God of the summits, and a powerful God he must be; near the summit you travel along the Col de Tempêtes, or Storm Pass, where the mistral wind can reach 200 mph.

Most cycling fans will be aware of the mythology of Ventoux having been the scene of many events over the years. It was on the 13th July 1967 that British Cyclist Tom Simpson died on this mountain during a Tour de France stage. It's said he began to weave across the road before falling. Delirious, he asked spectators to put him back on his bike which he rode on to within half a mile of the summit before he collapsed and died, still clipped into his pedals. It is at this site today that you pass a memorial to Tom, a sober reminder of the risks of such an extreme pursuit. Mont Ventoux is a 'hors catégorie' climb. Hors catégorie is a French term used in cycle races such as the Tour de France to designate a climb that is "beyond categorisation" or an incredibly tough climb. Most climbs in cycling are designated from Category 1, being the hardest, to Category 4, being the easiest, based on both steepness and length. A climb that is harder than Category 1 is designated as hors catégorie.

Despite a French railworkers' strike, three of us escaped the pollution and psychotic driving of London on the Eurostar for a few days to attempt the ascent of Ventoux…and to enjoy some rosé. There are three routes; north-west from Malaucène, east from Sault and south from Bédoin. The latter is the most famous and difficult ascent—1617 meters over 21.8 km—and so this was the route we would take; hiring a car to get us from my mum's house on the Cote d'Azur to Bédoin from where we would ride Mont Ventoux.

Waking up on the morning of the 'big ride' I opened the shutters to see…pouring rain. Not just rain but full-on tempest rain. Torrential. My heart sank as I knew we really only had one attempt at riding Ventoux. We only had the hire car booked for one day and as it was the start of French national holidays that weekend we couldn't get another one. We decided to go for it anyway and after picking up the car, packing our bikes and a carrier bag filled with banana and jam and Speculoos baguette sandwiches we headed off into the rain.

It wasn't long before the rain really started. Raining so heavily that the visibility on the roads was reduced to only a few feet. Never having experienced such heavy rain while driving I can't have been the only one thinking this may have been a bit of a silly idea and that a day in the warmth with cups of coffee and a sofa could be a slightly better option. Despite this, we pushed on, the three hours drive to Bédoin seeming to be the first challenge even before we got to the mountain.

Arriving at Bédoin the roads were wet but the sun was pouring through a gap in the dark grey clouds which completely surrounded Ventoux. It was as if Vintur had given his blessing for us to ascend the mountain, which I did thank him for. We were all nervous though and in between stuffing high-calorie sandwiches in our mouthes we assembled our bicycles and got changed into our bike gear in the particularly salubrious location of car park on the edge of town. Wiggling into a sports bra in a car park while maintaining some dignity is a challenge! Although this car park had a stunning view of Mont Ventoux, rising into the golden Provençal sunshine, complete with a white crown of cloud. The very cloud that shrouded the upper slopes which we would be riding into a couple of hours later.

After getting changed, getting on the bike, warming up, getting off the bike, going to the loo (a few times) we were finally off. Remembering to press 'Start' on my bike computer, it was already telling me I appeared to be moving and would I like to start the timer. I did.

Rolling through Bédoin we were stuck by how pretty this place is; tree-lined streets and most buildings on the main streets seemed to be cafés, bars or restaurants. After one of our party procured some water for his bidons we were off…in the wrong direction. But asking a lady walking down the road this was soon rectified and we were off…in the right direction this time.

The ride from Bédoin to Saint-Estève is quite easy at 3.9% gradient over 5.8km, passing through beautiful countryside and huge vineyards. I fell in love instantly with this countryside. It had the familiarity of home with a profound beauty, no doubt helped by the golden shafts of light falling around us. After Saint-Estève however it's a different story where the remaining 16 kilometers have an average gradient of 8.9%.

Although we'd all trained for this ride, the reality is that I've never experienced anything quite like this in my life. Even cycling in the Lake District or Wales does not compare to Mont Ventoux—it's on a different scale. The road surface is very good and the beauty of the forest as you ride up the mountain is stunning but this climb through the forest section is absolutely un-relenting. Even changing my cassette to a lower gearing beforehand, most of the ride I was in bottom gear and cranking my legs. On and on, the climb continues weaving through the forest on its inexorable, winding path up to the summit. Every few hundred meters or so you see names and messages painted on the road supporting past racers that had passed this way. Although the ride through the mountain section is very peaceful you can feel the people that have been there before. In fact when we were all talking later we all experienced the sensation of never really being alone there, and we were all sure there was somebody or something throwing little pebbles near the edge of the road. Other than the three of us, there seemed to be nobody else on the mountain and certainly we saw no other cyclists.

Cycling, it is said, is a socially acceptable way of being by yourself and by this point our small group had strung out with me in the middle. Although we all set out together, as they say, the only way to do it is to do it and there isn't anybody else that will get you to the top; that's down to you.

The forest section seems to continue for ever and as my body attempted to extract as much oxygen as possibly to fuel my muscles, I cranked up the hill. Much of the ride I was focussed on a tiny spot of road only about 2 feet in diameter in front of my wheel but when I looked up my eyes were met with the most beautiful oaks, beeches, cedars, larches and junipers and it was during one winding section that I turned to corner to see all of the trees bright with the glorious sun.

Having read about the forest section of this ride many times before attempting it myself not one account tells of anything other than a tough climb. I don't think I have the words to describe the climb, it's something that needs to be experienced, but I have a profound respect for every rider that has attempted Ventoux. It's not a short climb, it goes on and on, around a bend and then straight, then another bend and straight... Occasionally the gradient is lower so your legs and lungs can get some respite but soon the road kicks up again and you're back down the gears and legs pumping to keep yourself moving forwards.

By this point I could see more mist in the treetops and ahead of me the cloudbase was approaching slowly and ominously. We knew it was there, having seen it from Bédoin, and we were prepared to enter the clouds to reach the summit. Slowly but surely the mist gained a foothold in the forest and visibility dropped. Reaching Chalet Reynard, 6km from the summit, signals the end of the forest section but also signalled the end of any footage from the camera mounted on my handlebars too; the visibility was rapidly dropping. Each time I've seen Ventoux on TV I've seen riders streaming past Chalet Reynard in the bright sunshine. Here I was with hardly any visibility, alone and on the top of a mountain. All three of us knew we were close by but the feeling of solitude was absolute. I pressed on, past a 4km marker, 3km, 2km…then Matt, riding in front of me, came back down the mountain having reached the summit. We said a brief hello and I mumbled something about "Be back soon, just going to the top…" and I was alone again.

Two kilometers would be over in the blink of an eye usually but here at the top of Ventoux it was possibly the longest 2 kilometres I have ever ridden. The visibility was closing in and I pushed on. I saw the summit and cycled fast for it but then realised it was just an observation point and next to it was a sign saying Summit 500m. Head down, legs pushing the pedals round and round I fought up the last few meters and suddenly arrived at the summit. It was only really then that I was hit by a very strong wind and realised it was starting to get quite dim as well as the visibility dropping. I quickly snapped a photo of my bicycle at the summit, despite the visibility being so poor you can hardly even see my bicycle in front of me, and then turned to get back down to meet the other riders quickly. Almost as soon as I stopped pedalling uphill I started to get cold. The temperature had dropped very quickly and the wind came from nowhere, nearly blowing me over. I walked my bicycle back past the observatory at the summit and then started my descent.

Soon I met up with the others and we made our descent to Chalet Reynard as quickly as possible. However descending a mountain in failing light with very limited visibility is rather more slow and colder than we'd hoped. At least you couldn't see the drop from the road we were inching along, feathering our brakes as we traced our way down the mountain by following the sporadic white line near the edge of the road illuminated only by the LED light on the front of my bicycle.

Arriving at Chalet Reynard it was like we'd all had a bucket of iced water thrown over us. We were all extremely cold and we'd all started to worry. We were up here alone, except for a dog barking in the distance, but we had to get back down and so we all needed to keep it together. We tried to eat some food and I managed a gel and some of an energy bar. This helped and we had to get moving with me deciding to rabbit on about getting back to the warmth and having a coffee to 'keep spirits up'.

We all got back on our bicycles and tried to get our hands moving a little. Being careful to pick the correct route back to Bédoin, we kept pushing onwards, following the edge of the road in the tiny pool of light in front of my bicycle, the three of us in some kind of damp and cold V formation. We kept riding and as we got into the forest section the wind slowly dropped and we started to feel a little warmer. Suddenly out of nowhere it started to pour with rain and then 10 seconds later it stopped again as if we'd ridden through a waterfall. As soon as we were out of the rain the visibility suddenly opened out and we could feel the warmth returning to the air; we were out of the clouds!

We started to smile a bit more at this point as relief overtook us and we started to enjoy the ride back down again, chatting and laughing as we went and making more plans about 'the next ride'. After leaving the forest section we were again greeted by the roads through the vineyards and in the falling light we raced along through quiet hamlets. I felt quiet speechless…something quite profound had happened today. We set out to do something hard and we achieved it. We all had respect for Ventoux before we arrived and had respect for Ventoux when we left.

Sitting in a local café in Bédoin we ordered coffees and warmed up, leaving our bicycles propped up outside next to a snoozing dog. It felt surreal…like we had just come back from another world...

Although maybe we had.

http://www.strava.com/activities/26161534

Rest in peace, those that have been killed on London's roads in 2012. Their names are here to remember they are people, not statistics.

 

James Darby, 44, Upper Elmers End Road, Beckenham, Saturday 7th January. Remained unconscious and died on January 22. Collision with car door of stationary blue Fiat Panda.

Henry Warwick, 61, Bishopsgate, Friday 3rd February, hit by driver of turning Terrorvision coach.

Ali Nasralla, 8, Robin Hood Way, Kingston, Tuesday 6th March, hit by driver of Black Cab.

Olatunji "TJ" Adeyanju, 17, Deptford Church Street, Friday 23rd March, hit and run by driver of silver Audi.

Frank Mugisha, 40s, Great Cambridge Road, March 27, Remained unconcious after being hit on 2nd April by 62-year-old man who was arrested for dangerous driving.

Zakiyuddin Mamujee, 58, Pinner Road, Northwood, Sunday 29th April, hit by driver of vehicle who was subsequently arrested.

Radwan Uddin, 9,  Woodhouse Grove, East Ham,Tuesday 26th June, hit-and-run by driver of silver Mazda who left the scene. 

Tarsem Dari, 60, Uxbridge Rd/Saxon Rd, Thursday 5th July, killed by driver of a left-turning tipper lorry at the junction with Uxbridge Road and Saxon Road in Southall.

Neil Turner, 31, Mitcham Road, Croydon, Tuesday 10th July, collision with vehicle.

Dan Harris, 28,  junction of Ruckholt Road and East Cross Road, Newham, Wednesday 1st August, collision with Olympics passenger coach.

Hilary Lee, 66, junction of Wood Street and High Street, Barnet, killed by driver of 'builder's lorry' who was arrested on suspicion of death by careless driving'.

Sofoklis Kostoulas, 32, Bethnal Green Road, collision with Bywaters Recycling lorry cab.

Unknown Male, 30s, outside the Ship and Shovel pub near Renwick Road, Dagenham, killed by driver of lorry. 

Javed Sumbal, 34, Commercial Road near the junction with Arbour Square, killed by driver of Dutch-registered lorry who arrested on suspicion of causing death by careless driving.

Sitting up in bed with a start, I had the feeling that I'd slept in but checking my alarm clock it showed there was still an hour before it would ring to wake me from my warm bed. It was currently 4:31am. Outside the wind threw the pouring rain against my bedroom window and I remember thinking 'I really love sleeping' as I turned over and drifted off again.

An hour later my alarm went off.

I swung my legs out of bed and turned on the bedside lamp; a tiny pool of light illuminated the dark morning. I opened the blinds a small amount and looked out to the deep puddles outside. For a few seconds I thought 'It's too wet this morning, I'll go back to bed'. But, as the rain pelted down outside I decided to just go through the motions of getting ready for a ride and not think about the weather. Next was breakfast so I put the kettle on for coffee and dropped two slices of rye bread into the toaster. I was feeling pretty good really, despite the early start, although it did cross my mind that I might be a little insane for going out riding when I could be sleeping.

Organising my various layers of clothing came next, layering up my bike shorts with winter tights over them, my base layer, jersey, arm warmers and then waterproof layer, my bike shoes encased in neoprene shoe-covers and finally a cap, my helmet and a pair of padded gloves. I felt completely protected from the cold, but then, of course, I was going to get wet. As soon as you accept that you're going to get wet, that's the time you start to enjoy yourself. Often it's just thinking about getting wet that makes you want to avoid it. It's true that the worst part of a bike ride in foul weather is the part just before you leave the house.

Stepping out of the porch the rain cascaded onto me in torrents and splashed off the empty streets. This was some serious rain. I swung my leg over the frame, wiped the front of my bike computer and pressed 'Start'. All I needed to do now was pedal for a while...

Arriving at the location for my 'loops' of a section of road I felt warmed-up, so I stood up on the pedals and accelerated into the darkness. My bike wanted to go, so I pushed a little harder up the slow incline; my tires making a sucking sound as they pushed through standing water. It's at that time of the morning, in the gloom and the darkness, that you feel quite alone. Not in a lonely way but in a way that you're responsible for yourself. All thoughts drifted from my mind as I focused on my cadence and breathing, the raindrops soaking my outer layers of clothing and dripping off the peak of my cap. The low light makes it difficult to see, so it brings with it a need for some confidence to keep pedalling into the darkness, avoiding the autumn leaves piling up in the gutter and spilling out into the road. The occasional car passes me now, but gives me space. I appreciate it.

Each loop is 5km and it's difficult to remember how many laps I've done. It's too dark to see my bike GPS without putting its light on, but I have no real need to know how far I've cycled. I've entered that phase where things become simple; keeping your cadence in the right zone, your breathing and heart rate in the right zone and keeping your form on the bicycle. The occasional thought drifts through my mind but doesn't linger. The water drips down into my shoes but the overshoes keep my feet warm. Pedal, breathe, pedal, breathe...the sound of my tyres slightly louder than the wind whipping through the trees at the side of the road. I gently steer the bicycle through the rivulets of water pouring down the road towards me as I push harder. This is my 'fast lap'. As I round the bend in the road I can feel the wind swing to face me so I drop my body position and grip the drops, curling my fingers against the bar tape. I flatten my back slightly and cut through the wind and rain, the droplets of water being brushed from the lenses of my bike glasses.

I arrive back at the lap point, slow my pedal stroke, take another drink from my bidon and keep pushing on. Turning left back up the incline I look for cars, swing wide and carve the bicycle around, standing up and pushing the pedals as my bicycle responds and shoots off up the straight. Getting a good speed up I drop back into the saddle and change up a gear. Around and around the loop I go. My mind wanders but never far. I can feel the water splashing me from the rear wheel but my winter tights keep me warm. I'm happy and in my own world.

It starts to get light after an hour or so and more vehicles are on the road. I'm now mixing with cycling commuters too. My legs are an hour and a quarter into a fast ride so I flash past them as if they were standing still but I'm not racing them. They seem to be from a different world, although a world that I will be part of when I commute to my own work on my bicycle. But for now, I have a different goal. I glance at my GPS and it tells me my current distance. Two more laps then I'm at my target for this morning. I can't remember how many laps I've done, but I push on, remember my breathing and keep my head up. Push on. Pedal. Breathe. Push. Pedal. Breathe...

Soon enough I've finished and I'm in that weird place where half of me wants to keep going, to keep riding forever. But the sensible part of me knows I've ridden enough for today and there will be another ride soon. I also need to keep some energy for my commute.

Back at home I rinse my bike down, take a shower, massage my legs, have breakfast, get changed and then swap bikes. After all, I need to cycle to work now.

London Bike Kitchen - Gear Talk 1st October 2012

Gearing is the aspect of a bicycle's drivetrain linking cadence with the rate at which a drive-wheel turns.

Human legs produce power optimally within narrow ranges so gearing is used to make a bicycle as efficient as possible.

Gear ratio depends on the number of teeth of a drive/chain ring and rear sprocket (cog).

Hub gearing also depends on interplanetary (epicyclic) gears!

Shaft-drive bicycles depend on the bevel gears at the end of the shaft.

For a bicycle to travel at a particular speed using a lower gear you need a faster cadence but less force. But too fast a cadence can be inefficient. To travel in a higher gear you need a lower cadence but more force. Too much force can cause knee damage and lower cadence usually makes the heart work harder. "Spinning vs Mashing".

Four main methods of expressing gear ratios: gear inches, metres of development (roll-out), gain ratio and front/rear (aka 'racing style').

Gear inches, gain ratio and development are all expressed as a single number which can be compared between bicycles. The larger the number, the higher the gear.

Front/rear only really used for racing bicycles with specific wheel sizes such as 700C and only considers the size of chain ring and cog.

Gear inches and meters of development take the real wheel into account. Gain ratio (proposed by Sheldon Brown) also takes the crank arm into account.

Gear inches
-----------

The oldest system and even pre-date the bicycle chain. Gear inches really mean 'the size of wheel'. If an 'ordinary' bicycle, aka penny farthing, had a 60" wheel the GI would be 60". Gearing allows a wheel to be turned faster so a 28" wheel can be turned as fast as a 60" wheel with the same rotations of cranks. So a bicycle with 72 gear inches would be advanced the same distance as if it had a 72" wheel.

Calculated by using (where gi = gear inches, dwd = drive wheel diameter, fct = front cog teeth, rct = rear cog teeth):

gi = dwd x fct/rct

Usually the lowest gear on a MTB would be around a gear inch of 20 and the higher gear on a road bike would be somewhere around 110 gear inches. Gear inches can be thought of as the 'wheel size'. A gear inch of around 16 gives an effective speed of around 3 mph so at this point it'd generally be faster to walk.

Metres of Development (Roll-out)
--------------------------------

Instead of expressing the relative wheel size, meters of development describes distance travelled during one rotation of the crank.

Calculated by using (where md = metres of development, dwc = drive wheel circumference, fct = front cog teeth, rct = rear cog teeth):

md = dwc x fct/rct

The drive wheel circumference is calculated using diameter x pi.

Gain Ratio
----------

While gear inches and meters of development relate to distance travelled per turn of the pedals, gain ratio relates to the 'mechanical advantage' of a drivetrain. GI and development do not take the crank arm into account. This can provide a misleading comparison as on a MTB a gearing of 46/16 is comparable to a road bike gearing of 53/19, but if the MTB had a crank length of 175 and a road bike of 170 then the MTB gearing would actually be around 3% lower.

Calculated by using (where dwr is drive wheel radus, gr = gain ratio, fct = front cog teeth, rct = rear cog teeth):

dwr / crank length = radus ratio

...then:

radius ratio x fct/rct = gr

Examples:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|  Gear         | Gear Inches | Metre Development | Gain Ratio    | Front/rear    | MPH at 80 RPM |
|---------------|-------------|-------------------|---------------|---------------|---------------|
|   Very high   | 125         | 10                | 9.4           | 53/11         | 29.7          |
|   High        | 100         | 8                 | 7.5           | 53/14         | 24            |
|   Medium      | 70          | 5.6               | 5.2           | 53/19 / 39/14 | 16.6          |
|   Low         | 40          | 3.2               | 3.0           | 34/23         | 9.6           |
|   Very low    | 20          | 1.6               | 1.5           | n/a           | 4.7           |
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gear inches and meters of development are closely related. To convert Gi into development you multiply by 0.08, or more specifically 0.0798 which is 0.0254pi.

mph can be calculated using various methods, with gear inches it is:

mph = gi x cadence in rpm / 336

Relative gearing:

On bicycles with multiple gears gears tend to have relative differences of around 15% for comfortable changes between gears. Moving from a 13 tooth cog to a 15 tooth cog (15.4% relative difference) feels similar to shifting from a 20 tooth to 23 tooth cog (15% relative difference) although 20 to 23 teeth is a larger absolute difference.

Cassettes often have average step size of 15%: 14-16-18-21-24-28-32.

Racing bikes often have a smaller step-size so cadence can be very finely tuned. The course is generally known before the race so an appropriate gearing can be pre-selected for the terrain.

A 'derailleur' is used on some bicycles to 'derail' the chain from one ring to another, much like a train on tracks. Sheldon Brown proposed the correct word was derailer rather than the faux-French word derailleur.

Gearing ranges
--------------

180% - 3-speed hub
250% - 5-speed hub
300% - 7-speed hub
327% - 1 chainring derailleur
428% - 2 chainring derailleur
526% - 3 chainride derailleur / 14-speed Rohloff Speedhub)
698% - 3x10 Touring 3 chainring

Compact and standard chainrings are often used for road bicycles. Compact chainrings help your legs in mountains! Compact would be a chainring pair of 34 and 50 teeth. Racing bicycles may use around a 53 / 39 pair.

Derailleur gear system is around 87% to 97% efficient. Hub gears are around 86% to 95% efficient.

Velodromes generally specify crank lengths of 165mm to 170mm although road bikes and MTBs are sometimes larger.

There is not a huge difference in power output in crank length of 120 to 220mm although a shorter crank can provide a biomechanical advantage and allow the rider a more aggressive race position on the bicycle; a larger crank would close off the hip angle at the top of the pedal stroke.

Sprinters on the track would use a gear inch of around 94" to 98".

Endurance riders would use 92" to 96" indoor and 88" to 94" outdoor.

Time-trial riders could use a gearing as high as 103" with the biggest gearing being on the persuit event. Maximum gearing is limited to rider's ability to start. If it takes two seconds to get started the advantage of the higher gearing is lost.

Typical chainring/cog combinations are:

50x15 (87.67") - Track
48x15 (84.16") - Novice track rider.
48x17 (74.26") - 'Spin to Win' average road gearing for faster starts and reasonable top speed.
48x19 (67.4") - More spinny road gearing for flatter roads and new fixed/single-speed riders.
42x19 (59") - Relaxed gearing for cruising or hills.
24x12 (53.4") - Freestyle gearing with smaller chainring.

To work out an initial gearing for fixed-single speed find a single gear you can manage on a geared bike and then work out the gear size (in gear inches if the crank length and wheel size is the same between bikes). Then find a chainring / crankset and a matching rear cog with the right number of teeth to provide a matching gearing.

Not sure if you've heard about it but the Olympics is on at the moment. The road race was on over the weekend, racing from The Mall, over to Box Hill and back again. It's an amazing route but I watched every moment of the 6 hours men's and 4 hours women's racing (nothing better than uninterrupted, full coverage!) with not a small amount of jealousy. Tracing their route out of central London I wistfully ticked off my experiences on these roads; "Oh yes, that's where I got a can thrown out of a car window at me" and "That's the junction where I was hit by a minicab by a texting driver" etc.

Given over a million people went out to watch the racing over the weekend I wondered if racing like this really improves conditions on the roads for the rest of us. Of course that's not a reason not to do it, anything that creates closed roads and the chance to cycle is good in my book!

It made me think of Dave Barter's article in Obsessive Compulsive Cycling Disorder about riding the route of the stage of the Tour de France and the difference of his (and our own) experience to the one that tour riders get. At least during the races as training athletes do face plenty of danger on the roads.

"The tour riders will speed through London to salutations and applause. For me it was hand gestures and expletives simply for taking my rightful place upon the road."

Maybe it won't have an immediate effect but possibly it'll go some way to helping people to dump their cars and get on a bicycle, inspired by Wiggins, Froome, Cavendish and Armitstead (and all of our TT, track, and mountain bike cyclists who at the time of writing haven't yet competed but will surely do well!). Maybe our children will see how much we've destroyed this world and will embrace the bicycle while cursing us for the damage we've done.

Maybe all we can hope is that it'll help the drivers that punish us with close passes and aggressive driving see that we are just people and that we don't deserve to have our lives endangered simply because of prejudice against us.

My mum emailed me and my brother:

I can get a train ticket to london on 17th and back on 19th so thought I might pop down to see you both if you are free and can get a room.

Let me know asap as I am away from thursday am 

I think I might have been in a 'funny' mood when I replied though:

Fab, although all that's left of London then will be a smoking ruin and boxes of unsold 2012 t-shirts on each street corner while urchins attempt to re-create the 100 meters by running between a bin filled with Olympics happy meal wrappers and a length of discarded police 'inner cordon' tape.

That aside, it should be fine! (^_^)

But my mum seemed not to notice anyway:

Great, I have booked. Arriving early afternoon friday and leave 5.30 train Sunday. Looking forward to seeing you LOL Mum x

She still doesn't use LOL right either.

Recently I spotted an old bicycle on eBay in need of some serious love; quite frankly it looked like it's been dragged out of a canal! Plus it appears to have a really strange 'single-speed' conversion with the rear derailleur removed and the chain around the middle of the rear casette. The listing was very odd, although it does say the seller knows nothing about bikes, so fair enough really. 

A VINTAGE REYNOLDS 531 RACING BYKE IN USED CONDITION,FOR RESTORATION,RUNS

I KNOW NOTHING AT ALL ABOUT BYKES
I HAVE AQUIRED THIS BYKE AND LOTS OF VINTAGE PARTS
TO PUT ON LATER
I WILL TRY TO EZXPLAIN
THIS IS A REYNOLDS 531 RACING BYKE
IN RUNNING CONDITION
BUT NEEDS ATTENTION
SO SOLD FOR RESORATION
IT HAS REYNOLDS LABELS IN 3 PLACES
ONE SAYS BUILT 531 BUTTED TUBES
THE FRONT WHEEL IS NOT ORIGINAL
HAS A BACK CARRIER
MADE MOSTLY OF METAL
PLUS ALLIMINIUM
HAS ALLIMINIUM SHIMANO AJGUSTERS ON FRAME
BACK TYRE 700-23,23-622
6 GEARS
FOOT PEDALS NOT SAME
DOES RUN OK
THIS WILL BE PICK UP ONLY
HAVE GOT VINTAGE BYKE PARTS TO FOLLOW
PICTURE DOWNLOADS VERY SLOW,
WILL PUT MORE ON SOON
BYE

It's always nice to give bicycles, or 'BYKES', a new lease of life so I messaged the seller to ask what size it was. I even sent a diagram showing how to measure the seat tube. This then started a slightly surreal conversation:

Me: "Could you let me know what the seat-tube length is please? You can measure it like this: [URL of image showing how to measure seat tub, centre-to-centre]"

Seller: "HI,IT IS 10" FULL LENGHT BY 6" WIDE AT BACK NARROW PART IS 6" LONG,IT HAS A FAINT NAME AT BACK OF SEAT,BYE"

Me: "Sorry, I don't understand what you mean. The image I sent shows how to measure the frame. It must be more than 10" as even a toddler's bike would be larger than that."

Seller: "hi,i did not understand you earlier but i do not need your hassle,or attitude.bye"

Me: "Hah, that's hilarious! All I'm asking you is what size the bike is, which is really the most important bit of information."

Seller: "you see what i mean,attitude problem,bye"

Ok, so I probably should have just left it there, but...

Me: "The only person with an attitude here is you. Not entirely sure how you can expect to sell things but then get annoyed when people ask you questions about the items. From your own feedback people have said: "Bad attitude & complete idiot from first contact." and "Total clown.". Maybe you do need to just calm down and realise that it's probably your interpretation rather than people actually giving you attitude."

How strange! 

Update:

He's still going...

Seller: "when you have as much feedback as me, you will be an expert and the other person who said same as you might be related both of you with same problem,bye "

Me: "Still going, huh? Maybe the 'same problem' we have is...in fact...you! All you've managed to do is put me off bidding on your item, which I'm not entirely shows an expert level of anything."

Another Update:

Seller: "OOOOO"

Me: "Are you doing a 'scary ghost' now? With the white sheet and everything?"

He dumped me:

It was at the point I realised that while I'd sent an image to show him how to measure the 'seat tube:

...it looks like he'd actually measured the saddle. So if you're looking for a 10" saddle, then he's your guy! Although I'm not sure what size bike it comes with though.

But, like all tempestuous and passionate relationships it was over as quickly as it started. I really thought we had something special, but then this happened:

Seller: "next message to report you to ebay for hassle"

Reading these 9 simple words, I realised that our relationship was no more. It was over. 

I put a brave face on it, saying "Absolutely fine with me", but they were empty words.

It was over...I had to come to terms with it...I'd never see his '10" by 6" saddle with a faint name on the back' again.