Five things I hate about cycling: Cars

Its taken a month, but I have finally completed my exhaustive analysis of everything wrong with cycling. After hills, sweating, roads and punctures, all that remains is my very least favourite thing about cycling: Cars. The problem

Risk is an interesting phenomenom in our society. On the one hand, environmental health can shut you down if you make a sandwich without washing lettuce; on the other, there’s no legal barrier to sitting on a flimsy metal frame with half inch wheels, doing 30 mph on uneven tarmac as lorries overtake you at 70, with a feeble layer of polystyrene as your sole protection.

Five things I hate about cycling

My tires were slashed and I almost crashed but the Lord had mercy. My machine she’s a dud, I’m stuck in the mud, somewhere in the swamps of Jersey. “Rosalita”, Bruce Springsteen

So, last week I was cycling to work. It’s a 15 mile trek with some pretty chunky hills, but not too bad in general. However, as I was rolling down the off-ramp off the A61, just a mile from work, I went over a pebble.

Healthy, wealthy, and tired.

I try to drive to work as little as possible, partly due to my desire to be green, and partly due to my desire to save £200 a month on petrol. In the last few weeks, I have been increasing my stamina at cycling, ready for the big one: cycling the 31 miles to Chesterfield and back, whilst also managing to stay alert, awake and professional at work.

Last week I finally did it, and documented the whole thing on GPS. In homage to my near anonymous friend “Jon”, and his Skinnywheels blog, here it is in all its glory: