Monday
The morning ride. I rode into town to take my bike for a service and get the clicky pedal seen to. It’s been ages since I’ve cycled into the CBD during the morning rush hour, and the traffic was bananas. Saw a roadworker nearly get hit on Karo Drive. Saw a pigeon nearly get run over by a bus. It’s every man for himself out here.
In the last week or so, when I ride I’ve been wearing these little earplug things that are meant to turn down the volume slightly on traffic noise. I can’t tell whether the earplugs are doing nothing or something, or whether they are doing a tiny bit of something and mostly nothing. I’ll keep wearing them.
A confession: I was tired at the end of the day and the temptation to leave my bike at the shop and pick it up tomorrow was simply too great.
Tuesday
After work I collected my bike from Capital Cycles. It has new pedals on it now. ‘They have a sort of nice scalloped shape, see?’ the bike shop guy said. It was true – and the scalloped shape felt good under the feet. The pedals are a bit bigger than the old ones too, so I feel like I can access more power from the legs. I have been cycling for many years but I feel like today was the first time I really thought about the importance of pedals. (To be honest, it’ll probably also be the last time I think about them.)
Rode home through a brief window in the rain. A guy on an e-bike whipped past on my inside in the Victoria St cycle lane, and I shrieked loudly. Lately I’ve been keeping a good handle on my shrieking, so this was a disappointing regression.
After a day or so off the bike, it felt good to be on it again – and a freshly serviced bike always feels pretty good; it has a new power and precision to it. Even so, the ride home up into the hills was a struggle – my leg was sore and some garden-variety crankiness was setting in, so I was glad to get this ride over with.
Wednesday
Running late. A gap in the rain: I zoomed out onto wet roads. This was a very enjoyable ride – that feeling of rushing through just-rained-in air. It was one of those silver/gold mornings. Saw a guy gliding along on an electric unicycle. I’m working on my acceptance of those things.
At lunchtime I rode from work into town. Again this was a good ride – a very good ride. I can’t figure out what it was about the ride that made it good. Again, was it the freshly serviced bike, the bigness and scallopedness of the pedals? Was it the escape from the office? Or was it the errand itself – going to get food with which I was going to make a sandwich – that gave the ride an aura of excitement and anticipation? Maybe the wind had something to do with it, too – uncharacteristically it kept blowing in the right direction.
Even the ride back up the Terrace was not a grind. Spitty rain, but the spits were soft.
As if that wasn’t enough, on my ride home I saw the artist Karl Maughan blasting up a hill on an e-scooter. A good sight to see.
My friend Nick Ascroft has said that someone should set up a bike blog that’s the polar opposite of this one – it would be all about consistently great, heartening daily bike rides. ‘Yet another fabulous ride today. An SUV gave me the widest, most considerate pass I have ever seen. My legs were full of energy, my blood sugar was steady, my front light kept blazing when I needed it most, everyone checked carefully before opening their car door. It rained, and I felt alive.’ Maybe it would be called Eyelashclowning. Anyway, today the imagined celebratory bike blog became this bike blog. It rained, and I felt alive.
Thursday
Worked at home today, so it was a no-ride day. As much as I like to ride, I really like to not ride also, and I recommend it to everyone.
I read this piece about the Paris–Brest–Paris, a 1200-km amateur ride that riders have to finish within 90 hours. I really like reading about multi-day endurance events. I would like to know what it feels like to be at one’s absolute physical limit. Then again . . . would I actually? If only we could be guaranteed some great spiritual revelation, and not just suffering and chafing and hallucinations of elephants – though those are all great experiences too, in their way.
Friday
I’ve been avoiding Raroa Rd in the last few days, but this morning, since it was sunny, I rode up it to get a bit of extra exercise in. A mistake – it was a bad time. There are fewer sounds scarier to me than the sound of a car accelerating towards you from behind when you know there’s not enough room for them to pass safely. I went into hedgehog mode and shrivelled up.
Saw an old dog being walked; saw a woman carrying an armful of something that looked like Jerry until I saw it was a canvas shopping bag.
After work I rode into town to pick up my new glasses from the optometrist and have a beer, and then had a good night ride home – clouds of weed abundant, kākā gargling (they sound a lot like turkeys sometimes).
Gripe of the week: why is it always the cyclist who always has to give way to the driver on Mt Pleasant, as the road is too narrow to fit the both of us? I know it’s the logical thing: the cyclist can squeeze themselves up, the cyclist can cling to the fence like a snail so that the car can sail pass. And yet. I will hang on to this small, unreasonable gripe forever.
Cycling week 41
Your last point has been my pet peeve (spelling?) for ages. Based on the concept of patriarchy chicken, I am convinced that cyclists are commonly considered to be the ones that must give way, both to cars and to pedestrians, even on a bike lane or similar. Which of course is ALL WRONG and when I feel especially courageous and heroic, I do cycle on regardless, hearing the angry voice of a misguided pedestrian behind me knowing full well that not too long ago I was the one who dutifully moved aside or even stopped. As for the cars, obv. often too risky but I at times cherish the chance of overtaking a nasty driver at the next traffic light and purposefully cycling somewhat in their way while they have to figure out how to speed up without going onto the next or onward lane. There's only so much a cyclist's commute in a city has on offer in the way of thrills. Plus I am a righteous old woman. Stay safe and enjoy your pedals.
I love these cycling posts so much. Wellington cycling sounds treacherous and exciting! I have an old-fashioned bike, with a basket on the front, but rarely ride it here in New Plymouth. I'm not sure why that is, but now we have a dog I tell myself he's the reason, that it's because we walk on the beach every morning before work. That's not true because we haven't had him that long and I didn't cycle much then either. My partner cycles every day to and from work. Your posts make me want to cycle more often. I'm going to get my bike out of the shed today. A start.