Self Righteous Cyclist

To Helmet or not to helmet, that is the question . Apologies to Shakespeare and his great work in Hamlet, not Helmet. According to Wikipedia , in his speech a despondent Prince Hamlet contemplates death and suicide. He bemoans the pains and unfairness of life but acknowledges the alternative might be still worse.  Sure enough Hamlet was talking about avenging the death of his father, not about whether it should be compulsory to wear helmets in the face of possibly worse consequences without one.  Helmet laws - now there's a divisive topic in Australia right now without any middle ground. On one hand, all states and territories have mandated the compulsory wearing of helmets for cyclists. This is regarded by many as an extreme position introduced by 'nanny states' to deny people the personal freedom to choose whether to wear a helmet or not. Similarly civil libertarians are lining up on the right to defend people's rights to choose to helmet or not helmet.  As Libe

Sunday afternoon, Tallarook roadhouse south of Seymour, Victoria on my way back to Melbourne and hoping for some fried food to provide some diversionary therapy for my liver after a big night out.  A bike rested against the window outside the entrance.  I say to my mate, "I'll ride back to Melbourne and you can give the rider a lift".   The first thing that struck me was that this was no ordinary bike   with 80/73/53 front chain rings and 11/32 rear cassette.     To paraphrase Paul Hogan in Crocodile Dundee, "that's not a chain ring, that's a chain ring"!  More like something out of an engineering workshop.  To put that in perspective 53 is the upper end of the biggest chain ring on a standard off the shelf road bike. This bike is a beast in it's own right.   The rider appeared. "How far are you riding today I inquired?" 470km was the reply accompanied by a  brief outline of the day's activities so far starting in Melbourne

Punk, Mod, Sharpie, Goth, Bogan, Hipster, Normcore ... Every few years a 'new' fashion and lifestyle trend emerges, dominating conversations and polarising the masses.  It seems we need to feel good about ourselves by pouring scorn on a sub-culture - it's part of our DNA - and the reason why those tabloid papers and current affairs programs sell in the first place by allowing the consumer to feel morally superior.   So, yes, they're different to the rest of us.  In this post I want to say a kind word or three about hipsters.  Those healthy looking young things on their fixies, the real ones with no brakes, with their glowing complexions from having just eaten half a bunch of Kale sprinkled with quinoa (before those ingredients became mainstream),  who drink boutique beer from some speakeasy that only sells direct to customers in an old jar and are listening to the most awesome music, but what's the point of telling you, because you non-hipsters will have never

Firstly a quick quiz to kick off the post.  Pick the odd word out. Tradies: Contractors: Utes: Vans, Hi-vis: Work boots: Bicycles.  Ok, so you can’t drive and ride at the same time, but my latest effort of trend spotting turned up that there are a few tradies around Melbourne who prefer to park and ride to their CBD work sites.   I met 3 building site workers early one morning as they were saddling up to ride to their CBD building site.  They parked their cars in an unrestricted parking are about 4km from the city.  They leave their tools secured stored onsite to avoid the need of hauling them in and out of their cars.  Pictured below is Darren, who along with workmates Daniel and Francis combines their preferred modes of transport on a daily basis.  The guys were also good enough to give me their pros and cons of riding The pros ·        Saving on Parking.  In the city costs at least $15-20 a day or $4 to 5,000 a year, that's not a bad start especially if you'

Just when you think you've seen it all.  Saturday morning started out much like any other - riding down to the local tennis courts to watch my two older boys play tennis, talk cycling with the other parents - then all of a sudden I catch two guys without bikes swapping vintage riding jerseys like the ones Lance was wearing when he was doped to the eyeballs and seemingly at the top of his game.  It seemed to be a case of that one fits better on you than me.  Perhaps it was a case of male insecurity.  Does my gut look big in this? That's the thing about lycra, you can't hide anything.  I'm more inclined to say who cares what you look like, just get out there and ride.    An hour later I'm on my way home and I spotted a group of 25 plus guys all in various arrays of riding gear having a BBQ and drinking beers in the park.  Surely there's got to be a story in that I thought to myself.  As I got closer I realised something was missing among the blokes, beer, bbq

Apologies this week to Bob Dylan, it was so windy it blew the froth off my post ride coffee! Ever since I was a kid riding a mile (1.6km) to school, the wind has been my nemesis.  I'm almost paranoid to the point I swear it's been following me around all these years.  From post ride coffee, to campfires, to bike rides, rattling bedroom windows and swirling around high rise office blocks, it's almost always there.  Our family home was north of the school so in the summer mornings we would usually get a light push to school and a howling furnace like blast to ride home into.   Beach Road, Melbourne's most popular cycling destination is a classic example, where riders starting from the CBD cruising down thinking how fast am I and cursing all the way back. Or occasionally you get hit with a wind change which rarely goes your way. We've all been there, heading out on a ride into a light breeze only to find ourselves having to push home into a horrendous

Apologies to Frankie Valli and his Four Seasons and Neil Finn from Crowded House.  Early summer in Melbourne can throw up some pretty variable weather as the climate changes more quickly than a newly elected politician's mind. Having just been to one of my sons' school for an open morning where I was under firm instructions to not wear my riding gear.  Yes it seems even 9 year old boys are lycra conscious these days and they're not even wearing it.  Dressed in my work attire and ready to cruise on my mountain bike across town to the office, it began to rain.  What's worse when it begins to rain is that you're poorly attired for riding in the clothes you're planning to wear for the rest of the day, no rain jacket, no shelter and feeling hung out to dry in the middle of one of Melbourne's busiest thoroughfares.  The high and dry motorists could be forgiven for feeling smug about being warm and dry in the comfort of their cars while watching the cyclists s