Leeds Bradford Cycle Superhighway - Work in Progress

I paid a visit to the Leeds-Bradford Cycle Superhighway today. Work started on site a couple of months ago and seems to be making good progress. I can't think of anything remotely like this anywhere else in Yorkshire and I know that its been a steep learning curve for everybody involved, both on the design side and the consultation.

There are two basic designs. One is a track at carriageway level with a solid dividing kerb to the carriageway, the other is a stepped cycle track at half-height between the footway and carriageway. Both elements appear to be about 1.8m to 2.0m wide and intended for one-way cycling in the same direction as the other traffic.

Here are a few photos.

This is the track at carriageway level.

Here's an example of the stepped version.

Various bus stop arrangements.

The junctions are a bit of a weakness. One junction appears to be using a toucan crossing for the straight ahead movement. Hopefully there will still be an advanced stop line to choose to remain on carriageway or use the toucan.

The Leeds ring road crossing has been in place for some time. Going west it works reasonably well but the left turn slip is often running when the first two signals are green for cyclists. Its easy to get caught out and carry on into the moving traffic. If you have to stop there is no room for more than one bike and you stop with your back to the traffic. Hopefully this will all be modified. As well as safety you typically get held for about 45 seconds at each light. Its not long but it seems like ages.

ASt the next junction there is a new crossing arrangement with dedicated cycle phases - but similar issues!

There's a 45 second wait at this signal at the junction entry!

Closely followed by this one at the exit!

Once again the left turn is not controlled so a cyclist gets a green signal at the same time as cars may be coming out. The cars have also passed a green light at the pedestrian crossing to get to here so they may not be anticipating opposing traffic on the main road.

This one raised a few comments on twitter but I'm with the designers. I wouldn't feel safe here if the cycle track had priority, there is loads of lane changing going on in the gyratory, the speeds are high and there's a high proportion of HGVs. 

Toucan crossings and two-way tracks mean that cyclists get a shorter and more direct route than other traffic at this gyratory.

The transitions from segregated to shared areas and on and off carriageway are nicely handled. Its hard to see in the picture but there is no upstand at this kerb and the ramp up to cycle track level is very gentle.

The yellow crosses show how the cycle track is taken from footway and carriageway space, and how much tighter the geometry at side roads becomes, slowing down the turning traffic to make crossing safer.

Drainage is doubled up on sections where there is a gap in the separating margin for water from the carriageway to run off.

Elsewhere, kerb face drainage feeds back to the gulley at the original kerbline. Note the square grid cover is more bike wheel friendly.

I'll be glad when they get to this bit!

One hour in Halesowen, Copenhagen and Nantes

One of the great things about following bike racing is that you can ride the same roads and same venues as the stars, either alone or in amateur races and sportives. In the 1990s I took a few coach tours to watch the spring classics and Tour de France, riding the routes and watching the racing. So in 1993, when Chris Boardman was pounding the boards at Bordeaux to set a new hour record, I was on a coach in the Alps with a few other Yorkshire cyclists bound for Serre Chevalier to watch Le Tour and ride the Galibier and a few other giants.

I had no real knowledge of track racing until my kids joined Halesowen CC, one of Britain's most successful Go Ride clubs with over 100 young riders under 16. In recent years the club has spawned many national squad riders, many from 'non-cycling' families who have just become involved via friends or school activities.  Inevitably most of the parents become cyclists, doing social rides, riding cyclo-cross or getting involved in the track league or coaching and administration. I'm a firm believer that any involvement in cycling must make them more considerate and safer drivers, even though the majority don't treat cycling as everyday transport. As 70% of the economic benefits of cycling derive from health benefits, and only 20% of cycle trips are utility trips, we shouldn't dismiss the value of those cyclists who spend many hours each week training, racing and simply enjoying the countryside by bike.

My own contribution to the Halesowen club was to become involved in coaching, mainly track and cyclo cross, when my own experience was in road racing and time trials, but I learned quickly from others how to teach skills despite my limited ability to actual demonstrate them! My only aptitude in track racing was the pursuit, which suited my time trial background and so when I read 'The Hour' by Michael Hutchinson I began to wonder what it would be like. At 08:00 on the 11th May 2008, exactly 115 years to the day after Henri Desgrange set the first hour record of 35.325 km I set out to beat it. As Sean Kelly would say, 'I made the calculation' of what time I needed for each 400m circuit of the Halesowen track and stuck rigidly to that schedule. Despite a modern bike and tri-bars it was incredibly demanding to stick to the schedule. After 20 minutes my body was screaming for a break and I briefly dropped behind. Its not just the physical, but the mental pressure of watching the clock and constantly following the inside sprinters line for the fastest route around the track.  It wasn't until the last 10 minutes when I knew I had done it that I managed to speed up and gain a couple more laps to cover just over 36km, beating Desgrange but not good enough to beat the 1894 record of 38.2km. It was a modest achievement to match a record set a hundred years ago, probably on a cinder track and cast iron bike, but I still had to be lifted off my bike, stiff and exhausted from the effort of sitting in a fixed position for an hour.

I had thought I might try each month to get subsequent faster records but once was enough, so when Bradley Wiggins takes to the track this evening I will have some sympathy!

My hour!

My employer Phil Jones Associates recently organised a study tour to Copenhagen and Malmo. The trip was attended by officials from the Department for Transport, Transport for London, Sustrans, Wheels for Wellbeing and British Cycling including my fellow former hour record holder, Chris Boardman.

We were welcomed to Copenhagen by Henriette Lund, a Danish consultant previously employed by TfL to help develop the Cycle Superhighways which are modelled on Danish routes. Copenhagen is an interesting comparison for UK planners and engineers as its urban form is much more like UK cities, with low density residential areas, shopping malls and out of town developments. Being a northern coastal city it is cold and damp for much of the year, so not the most conducive climate for cycling. Despite this, it is one of the world's leading cycling cities.

Chris Boardman in Copenhagen

The streets typically have 'hybrid' or stepped cycle tracks, one way tracks at half-height between the pavement and the road. Many of these tracks started out as cycle lanes, mostly achieved by removing on street car parking, and are currently being upgraded to tracks to offer greater physical separation.

However, unlike the Dutch, the Danish tracks often terminate at large signalised junctions. Cyclists rejoin the traffic in a 'mixing zone' which acts as both a cycle lane and a right turn lane (left in UK) for motor traffic.  Two laws reinforce behaviour to minimise the risk of 'hook' type accidents, one is the strict liability, that places the onus on drivers to prove they are not responsible if they hit a cyclist or pedestrian. The other is a 'universal duty to give way' so that drivers waiting to turn in and out of side roads are always obliged to wait for cyclists going straight on along a main road. While this is not always observed (one of our party was cut up by a white van man in the first 30 mins) in general this system makes for more relaxed cycling and is borne out by the high modal share of around 45% trips to work and education by bike across the greater Copenhagen area, which includes outlying settlements and suburbs, and 52% in the city centre.

Superhighway through 'Red Square' in Copenhagen

The latest challenge for engineers is to 'speed up' cyclists with wider tracks in the city centre, new cycle bridges across water and rail barriers and a series of radial cycle superhighways extending to outlying towns and villages to cater for long distance cycle commuting. With a dispersed settlement pattern, cycle parking at rail stations is important, but equally the Danes provide cycle carriages on peak time suburban rail services and we had no problem taking 16 people and their bikes onto  a very busy train.

Bike carriage

Bus use in Copenhagen is also high compared to most cities in the Netherlands, here in Noordegaade a 'chicane' in the carriageway enables cycle tracks to be bent around the back of bus stop islands on either side of the road.

Taper start of bus stop island with cycle track to rear

Last week I attended the VeloCity conference in Nantes. One of the hot topics of debate was how to translate the current enthusiasm and huge increase in participation in sports and leisure cycling into regular cycling for transport. It seems there are no easy answers, as always it takes time, commitment to quality infrastructure backed by encouragement, information and training. Just like everybody else, the MAMILs and MAWILs will only take to city cycling if they feel safe, have somewhere to lock their expensive bike, have confidence in waymarking to know that the cycle route will not suddenly disappear.

German cycling take on MAMILs

It is good to see that the UCI (cycle sport governing body) is taking the issue seriously, working with federations such as British Cycling to raise the profile of safe cycling and to use the carrot of hosting a major sporting event as a stick to lever commitment to everyday cycling from the local authorities. The question that inevitably followed however was that of how to foster 'one voice' for cycling rather than the separation of campaign, touring and sports organisations that typifies most countries.

One of the traditions of Velo-City is some kind of mass ride on the first evening of the conference. When I first attended in 1997, about a hundred of us pedalled around Barcelona, much to the bemusement of local people. In Nantes there were over 1500 delegates at the conference and at least as many local people involved in the 'Velo Parade', such that it took several hours to pedal around the city. There was some spectacular fancy dress (bikes and riders), and the participants ranged from 5 year olds on balance bikes through to pensioners who were well old enough to know better! Amazingly the ride was scheduled to start at 5:30 in the evening rush hour with several roads closed, but despite this most of the motorists caught up in the jams took it well and waved and smiled as we were quite an amusing spectacle.

VeloCity delegates line up for the parade

One feature of Nantes is central cycle tracks down the middle of the road instead of at the edges. These work well with fewer conflicts at side roads and with pedestrians and buses, although joining and leaving can be confusing at times and the combination of tram tracks, roads and cycle tracks makes crossing difficult for pedestrians (they are only supposed to cross at designated areas). Despite the drawbacks, its something that may be suitable for some dual carriageway and 'boulevard' style roads in the UK. The idea has already been adopted elsewhere in Washington DC and Barcelona.

Central cycle track

That's enough writing about cycling, time to don the lycra for my weekly MAMIL experience, but tomorrow I'll be on the folder for business. Vive le velo!

Chickens, eggs and elephants

Not for the first time in my career, I'm spending the run up to Christmas writing guidance on the design of cycling facilities. This time its part of the government's commitment to 'Cycle Proofing' and strengthening the Highways Agency's responsibilities to 'cycle-proof' all of its new roads. The stakes are high. A £15 billion budget for new roads offers the potential for some amazing new cycle infrastructure - bridges, tunnels and miles of segregated tracks. Imagine, a new tunnel for the road past Stonehenge should leave us a magnificent traffic-free route along the current road alignment. The theory is that with better guidance and education, traffic engineers will suddenly see the light and automatically provide cycle infrastructure. So will the 'egg' of guidance give birth to the 'chicken' of infrastructure?

Also not for the first time, I'm finding that the existing guidance contains a familiar set of instructions for planners and traffic engineers: - 2.0m wide cycle lanes, 3.0m wide cycle tracks, 2.0m wide footways, adequate headroom at tunnels and overhanging signs, no sign poles or lamp columns within the cycle track, no sharp corners or steep gradients and a requirement for every new road scheme to undergo a 'Non-Motorised User Audit' at each stage of design. It's all there in the existing documents from the 1980s up to the last revision in 2005, but it continues to be ignored. Indeed, much of the source material for the IHT Cycle Friendly Infrastructure guide and Sustrans National Cycle Network Guidelines and Practical Details, both published in 1996, was derived from the 'Design Manual for Roads and Bridges'.  On my desk I have a copy of the 1946 Ministry of War handbook for road design in urban areas that features many 'Dutch style' treatments of cycle tracks, separate footways and elevated road junctions with the cycle tracks and footways passing beneath at ground level. So our rewriting exercise is not coming up with many amazing new ideas, but is trying to move from 'advice' (i.e. you may do this)  to 'requirements' (i.e. you must do this).

1970s segregated cycle track and footway designed in accordance with existing UK DMRB

Cross sections from a 1946 UK handbook on road design

Engineers like standards i.e. a beam carrying X amount of weight has to be X dimensions with a load bearing capacity of XX. It is clear and unambiguous and enforceable by regulation if necessary. But what about where a countryside route for horse riders, walkers and cyclists crosses a new trunk road? Each user has different requirements for the ideal surface, headroom and preferences for lit/unlit. Is the route primarily for leisure or transport or both? If for some reason (e.g. a steep hill) we cannot meet the standard for one type of user should that user be banned and forced to take a more circuitous route? This requires judgement and experience, but the 'safe' option in the minds of many engineers is to do nothing because the 'standards' cannot be achieved.

Making the guidance more prescriptive could therefore actually lead to less cycling infrastructure being created, particularly when trying to retro-fit on existing roads where ideal dimensions cannot be achieved.  This is sometimes exacerbated by the consultation process, because campaigners are able to 'mock' the local authority or Highways Agency for failing to live up to its own design standards. The highway authorities therefore choose not to even try to do anything.

As always our brief is to include 'good practice from abroad' but on strategic roads there is not that much to say. We need some segregated space (not shared with pedestrians or motor traffic), a cycle track of minimum dimensions 2.0m one-way or 3.0m two-way is sufficient to accommodate all but the highest flows of cycles, and at junctions we don't want to turn across multiple lanes of traffic without the protection of a separate traffic light phase for cyclists or a bridge/subway.  Also, cyclists can't turn at right angles, see through walls or ride up a flight of steps, so no sharp corners or steep gradients please. So that's the design guidance in two sentences!

I do not believe the view that that traffic and civil engineers are too stupid to design cycle infrastructure. They design some pretty complex and amazing arrangements and structures for motor traffic. I'm sure that given sufficient political priority and an appropriate budget, they could indeed 'cycle proof' every new road and do a fairly decent job just by following existing guidance on what to do for cyclists going along or across high-speed, high-flow roads. The existing guidance includes advice to acquire land outside the highway boundary in order to provide for cycling where space is constrained, for example along the edge of a field on the other side of a wall.

The latest round of schemes coming forward from the 'pinch point' funding does not fill me with optimism however. Cycling does not seem to be part of the design brief. The aim is all about moving more motor traffic through a space. There is no recognition that moving cyclists and pedestrians more efficiently and safely might also be good for the economy and help relieve congestion. If cyclists are mentioned at all, it is usually only with regard to safety and their position as 'vulnerable' road users or 'slow modes'. Yet many of these 'pinch points' are at the edges of towns and cities where local traffic is using the strategic road network for short journeys that should be possible by bicycle. Ironically many of those drivers will be driving (and creating the congestion pinch point)  because they are afraid to cycle in the heavy traffic. Providing for cycling is almost always viewed as an additional 'cost burden' to a scheme (along with moving newts and planting trees), not as something integral that will make the scheme perform better.

The major issues that prevent good cycle infrastructure are not to do with design guidance. One significant hurdle is the scheme appraisal. Trunk roads mainly run through rural areas where there are few local trips, and certainly very few walking and cycling trips. The guidance documents for 'non-motorised user audits' and for environmental and financial appraisal suggest gathering data about the numbers of pedestrians, cyclists and equestrians using existing routes affected by the new road. These are unlikely to ever amount to huge numbers, so the economic case for investment will always be weak. This is like saying that we won't provide access for wheelchairs on trains, buses etc because our surveys indicate that only one in every xxx,0000 train journeys involves a wheelchair user and that valuable space on the train is being wasted. In some cases, a projected increase in cycling and pedestrian use will also generate a predicted increase in accidents, and this has a negative impact on the cost:benefit ratio, so making the business case around growth in the numbers cycling isn't necessarily the answer unless the overall health benefits of more people cycling are added into the calculation!

Regardless of the business case, there must be universal provision for walking and cycling alongside and across every newly built road that is accessible to these modes.  We should also as a nation be considering whether other transport corridors such as land alongside motorways, railways and 'easements' and service roads for major pipelines, pylons and wind turbines offer the opportunity to provide new routes for cyclists. One thing that history has taught us is that our transport infrastructure constantly evolves, and many of the strategic 'A' roads of the 1930s have now become local roads, but are not well designed for local users, while many of the disused rail corridors have been reborn as cycle routes. We should not allow the short term saving of 'value engineering' on individual schemes to undermine the long term benefits of creating a national cycle infrastructure network, yet on existing major projects, the provision for walking and cycling is often seen as an opportunity to save money using sub-standard alignments and materials.

The second major issue is capacity. All of our most 'useful' roads are inevitably full during peak travel times, always have been and always will be. Good new roads induce more trips because they make car travel faster and more attractive and this adds more traffic to existing roads. Where new roads and the old roads meet, a new 'pinch point' is created. These pinch points often become the location at which the cycle route infrastructure falls apart and cyclists are forced onto a busy junction with no protection.  It is not always possible to simply build a bigger junction to increase capacity.  In any case this is in conflict with emerging lessons from cities around the world that are reducing the amount of traffic entering urban centres in order to make them more attractive places to live, work, visit and invest.

This is the elephant in the room. Most 'experts' now agree that car based towns and cities have had their day and failed to create the conditions in which people can live happily and prosperously, but national and local politicians in the UK continuously invest in infrastructure that makes driving easier, and oppose any reduction in car parking space or junction capacity. In doing so they continue deny us the space to make good infrastructure for cycling on existing roads.

Bikers behaving badly

A few years ago I went to the Netherlands with the All Party Parliamentary Cycling Group, specifically to look at Bike-Rail integration. We were made very welcome by NedRail and the Dutch government, including a very fancy 'ambassador's reception' in the Hague, too posh for Ferrero Rocher even!

One of the MPs on the trip was Islington's Emily Thornberry. I spent quite a bit of time talking to her as we seemed to get on OK, and she was pretty 'ordinary' informal and unintimidating among the various distinguished peers on the trip. She certainly didn't strike me as a 'snob', quite the reverse, and from what I remember our conversation was about social justice, tackling inequality and of course, cycling.

But now she has been 'exposed' as a snob for apparently taking the piss out of  jingoistic (or proud English) flag waving white van man. There is no doubt that she should not have tweeted a photograph of one individual's house, because a white van and an English flag is not (and should not be) indicative of some UKIP/BNP football hooligan mentality. But everybody has assumed that is what was intended and she has lost her job. That is perhaps because 'white van man' has become synonymous with the sort of aggressive and inconsiderate behaviour that we witness on the roads (from drivers of all sorts of vehicles), and the English flag in particular has been appropriated by far right political groups and football fans to such an extent that the champagne socialist middle classes in Islington would feel uncomfortable displaying it on the basket of their city bicycle or hybrid Toyota Prius (see its easy to stereotype by mode of transport).  I know that white van man exists in the Netherlands, I was nearly knocked off in Amsterdam once by a Heineken delivery man trying to squeeeze past where there wasn't room, and a ride in a high speed Dutch taxi can also be exciting at times. I don't know however whether a particular mode of transport in the Netherlands such as white van man or the London cabbie, quite so clearly bestows the essence of  'salt of the earth' Dutch working man although of course the bicycle is seen as part of national identity. Inevitably, some journalists had to use the 'on yer bike' headline accompanied by a cycling picture as Emily Thornberry resigned.

Modes of transport seem to matter in UK politics. Drivers of cars are always 'beleagured' by those over zealous rules about speeding and parking, and 'the war on motorists' and are rewarded with tax breaks for vehicle manufacturing and a big investment in road building. Meanwhile the NHS struggles to meet the costs of the consequences of motoring associated with road crash deaths and injuries, air pollution, congestion and obesity, while parents are terrified to let their children venture out alone.  Margaret Thatcher reputedly had a thing about buses being for losers. Anybody successful would surely be in a car. ("A man who, beyond the age of 26, finds himself on a bus can count himself as a failure" - although there is no reliable source for this quote). When Labour launched its more balanced transport policy the image below was typical of the reception it received in the press, and almost 20 years later Britain (with the exception of parts of central London, Brighton and Bristol) still hasn't really moved on much from this social attitude.

Former government Minister Andrew Mitchell was famously required to get off his bicycle and use the pedestrian exit from Downing Street, despite the fact that a bicycle is a 'vehicle' in law and should not be used on a footway, and he had used the vehicle exit on previous occasions. His argument with the Police cost him his job, as well as the jobs of some of the officers present. He wasn't the only stroppy cyclist however, Theresa Villiers (pictured) and Boris Johnson were among others for whom the police regularly opened the main gates although the official Police line is that the instruction is to open for cars only.

The Guardian reporting on Andrew Mitchell's unsuccessful Plebgate court case summed it up from the point of view of one of his former colleagues, the ex MP Michael Brown. "The reason that Ministers were given ministerial cars is so that they didn't get into this kind of mess. My main criticism of Andrew Mitchell is that all this Cameron bicycling nonesense is what got him into trouble."

It's often said that political and cultural attitudes have no impact on cycling and its all down to infrastructure.  I don't imagine that the bicycling royal family of the Netherlands or the many dutch politicians who cycle to work are required to get off their bikes when leaving the gates of their official buildings.

Summer Wine, Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness

With the end of summer and onset of darker nights, there is always a temptation to cut back on the cycling, but with the Three Peaks looming and some very pleasant weather, September and October have been one of the best parts of 2014.

September started with some reviews of Birmingham City Centre with representatives from local cycling and pedestrian groups to help decide what to try to do to improve something that is often a pretty poor environment due to accommodating the needs of cars (see previous posts).

This was followed by a technical visit to Cambridge with staff from Birmingham, Leeds, Newcastle, Manchester, Bristol, Oxford and Transport for London. Here we saw the famous cycle/pedestrian bridge by the station, a city centre cycle park where you can ride in and hire a pushchair while you shop with the kids, 'advanced green' traffic lights to enable cyclists to get safely across a junction ahead of other traffic and a 'Dutch style' roundabout under construction. It was traffic geek heaven, and we really did discuss one set of traffic lights for a whole hour!

 

 

the cycle counter at Jesus Green

Due to work commitments, we didn't manage a summer holiday this year, but my wife and I agreed that we would meet up in Cambridge and set off around East Anglia and then towards home. Our cycling holidays are distinctly 'old school' in that we do cycle camping, we take some maps and choose roads and campsites that 'look nice on the map'. It can be a risky strategy, particularly as I bought many of my maps in the 1980s (Barthlomews 1:100,000 are just the best ever cycling maps)! However, I am pleased to report that sleepy Cambridgeshire, Suffolk and Norfolk appear to have changed very little since the maps were drawn.

I had my doubts about visiting the flatlands but as we headed east from Cambridge towards the coast there was plenty of undulation to be had.  The unexpected hills and navigating the maze of minor roads meant progress was slower than I'd anticipated and we certainly weren't going to make the coast after a late morning start. We had a rethink and stopped for afternoon tea at Lavenham, a historic market town at the centre of the mediaeval wool trade. The tourist information office gave us a list of campsites and we headed for one to the north of Stowmarket.  There was not muche evidence of a campsite when we reached the address, and we knocked on the farmer's door with trepidation. A slightly deaf elderly man answered. "Oh I used to offer camping but there's not much call for it nowadays. You can pitch in the old orchard if you like, there's a toilet and a sink in the shed."



Our campfire rice pudding that night was enriched with stewed apples and blackberries freshly picked from the orchard.

In the barn next door there were two army jeeps and a whole museum of wartime and farming memorabilia. We were given the full tour and history of the restoration of the vehicles the next morning when Mr Jubb and his mates, dressed in the full GI uniform, set off for their weekly drive for morning coffee. As the owner of a 50 year old Land Rover that occupies much of my non-cycling time under the bonnet, I had a lot of symapthy for the restoration and the enjoyment of the endless tinkering to keep these vehicles alive.

It was another late start as we set off towards the coast, aiming for Leiston Abbey and Minsmere RSPB reserve just north of the Sizewell nuclear power station. We were soon lost in the myriad lanes, and an old man on a bike caught us studying the map at a junction. It turned out he was just on his way home to Norwich after a three month tour (at the age of 83), taking him through Europe to the Czech republic and back. He was aiming to get home that day and spend his first night in a real bed since setting off with his camping gear in June!

It was a warm but slightly misty day, the sun never quite breaking through, giving an eerie silent quality to the swampy woodland and heathland. After tea and cake at the RSPB visitor centre we ventured off-road to follow a sandy bridleway north across Dunwich Heath nature reserve. I wanted to go to Dunwich because the overnight ride from London called the 'Dunwich Dynamo' is on my 'to do' list when I get the opportunity. I imagine that it must be magical to arrive for a well earned breakfast at the austere wooden cafe next to the bleak pebbly beach at dawn.

Journey's end that day was the genteel seaside town of Southwold, home of Adnams brewery. We were too late for the ferry from Walberswick so we cycled over the footbridge across the marshes and along the ramshackle harbour. This is the sort of 'posh' seaside that features in Famous Five stories, where kids wear 'gum boots' and 'mackintoshes' (albeit from Boden nowadays) and Guardian readers buy beach huts for the same price as a house in the north. It is a far cry from Blackpool, Morecambe and Scarborough where I spent my childhood holidays. There is no denying however that it is charming and pretty, and we had a fantastic meal at the harbour pub, washed down with several pints of Adnams, leading us to throw caution to the wind and pedal into the dunes for a midnight walk along the sands, with the lighthouse blinking from the town.

So it was yet another slightly hungover late start, followed with a compulsory swim in the sea and a warm up coffee, then a trip along the pier. Fortunately it was a fast and easy road to Beccles in time for a picnic lunch down by the river, enjoying the unseasonably warm sunshine. We were in Broadland, dissected by attractive rivers, streams and lakes. We crossed the River Yare at Reedham Ferry, heading for a campsite near Horning, just another ferry ride away over the River Bure, or so we thought. It had been a fairly long afternoon, we'd stocked up with food at Acle ready to stop in a few miles. But here our 30 year old maps defeated us. The Horning ferry no longer exists and we reached a dead end, looking enviously at the people in the pub just across the river and the campsite behind it, but over 20 miles away by road. Reluctantly we retraced our steps and headed towards Wroxham, resigned to two more hours in the saddle. Luck was on our side though, a roadside pub on the outskirts of Wroxham had a big field available for camping and caravans and we had a place to stay after all.

It was a chilly night, followed by another scorching day. As we set off we encountered hundreds of cyclists in the 'Tour of Norfolk' sportive. Once we were passed Coltishall and back onto minor roads we probably saw fewer than a dozen cars all day. We ended our day in Swaffham, in the Breckland area. I was once paid to devise some cycle routes in this area, based around the Peddars Way. The brief specified that we had to visit every pub in the area to check opening times and whether food was available. Tough job but somebody had to do it!

There was a heavy, almost frosty, dew when we got up the next morning. A definite hint of autumn. we spent the morning at Oxburgh Hall, a moated manor house before making our way to the Denver windmill and Denver Sluice, a massive flood prevention barrier. Heading west into fenland the landscape is Dutch, a drainage system designed by a Dutch engineer in the 18th century has created this place. Long straight roads follow the foot of dykes. Much of the agriculture was onion crops, and for miles and miles we could smell onions in the warm air, and tractors pulling vast trailers full kept passing by.

 

Hedgerows stuffed with fruit, sunshine and traffic-free roads, september in Norfolk.

At several points we followed or crossed the National Cycle Network, but it was of little use to us because there were no destinations on the blue signs, just a NCN route number. Very frustrating, particularly as we missed out on a quiet and shorter route over a new bridge on the the River Nene into Peterborough from Whittlesea because it just wasn't signed. I imagine the route cost £several hundred thousand, but even as a cyclist who wanted to use it, it was hidden for the sake of a few decent signs.

A week later I was invited to a cycle industry taster session at the Manchester Velodrome. Its 5 years since I last rode a track bike, but this was at least an advantage over those who had never even ridden fixed wheel. I was a bit nervous since I have some balance problems and riding in a straight line can be tricky at times, but after half an hour we all started to relax and swoop up and down the bankings. I'll never be a Chris Hoy but the 'rush' of plunging down the banking onto teh straight and into the next corner at top speed is addictive. Looking around the track we were all grinning like idiots!

 

Demonstrating that 'cyclo-cross' position on a track bike!

My daughter (who works at a cycle recycling place) an I visited the NEC cycle show. I have visited cycle shows fairly regularly since working in the bike trade in the 1980s. Its really interesting to see the sheer variety of bikes available now. I've seen the transition from a period where only prestige racing bikes were on offer, then almost entirely mountain bikes, the birth of the 'hybrid' and the rise of city bikes and electric bikes. I hope that this variety is evidence that cycling really is becoming universal and not just for the enthusiast.

The end of september is the culmination of preparation for the Three Peaks cyclo cross race in the Yorkshire Dales. This year we were blessed with the best ever weather, sunshine and barely a whisper of wind, and fairly dry ground on the often boggy moorlands. For five years I have been trying to dip beneath the 5 hour time for this event, and finally achieved that. A good end to a great month of cycling!

Just Grand! How to top the Grand Depart.

It's been such an exciting year for cycling in Yorkshire I worried that the Three Peaks might seem a bit of an anticlimax after Le Tour. Of course, I needn't have worried, it was just as big a day as it always is!

My 2014 Three Peaks was five years in the making, because that's how long it has taken to finally reach my goal of a sub five hour ride. I managed to get fit early in the year to take on the Fred Whitton Challenge ride in the Lake District in May, and the plan was to carry that fitness through the summer and work on the specific requirements of the Peaks. This is mainly carrying your bike up ridiculously steep hills for long periods, and riding downhill on surfaces that challenge even the most skilled riders.

My first race was 2009, but 3 punctures saw me finish in 5 hours 20 minutes. The next year I was too ill to cycle. 2011 I managed 5 hours and 7 minutes, 2012 was a battle for survival in the worst conditions and a 5 and a half hour ride. In 2013 I was still recovering from neurosurgery but going well until a sprained ankle the week before the race saw me on crutches and hopping round the race with a strapped up ankle and a butchered cycling shoe, finishing in 5 hours 18 minutes.

One big advantage of being off the drugs that I was taking up until last year is that I have lost weight, down to 67kg from 70kg, which must make a big difference up the hills. I've been logging many of my rides on strava this year and this does seem to confirm that I'm climbing better.

Preparation has not always gone smoothly. In late August I managed to get tendinitis in my forearm, so painful that I couldn't grip the handlebars and the only cure was to rest for a fortnight, right in the middle of what should have been the most intense training. Not even the dreaded turbo trainer was allowed. The last two weeks before the race also coincided with a hugely busy period at work, and what should have been a 'taper' and rest before the race ended up as a week of staying up until midnight to get various things finished.

This sort of thing can really shake your confidence and my one comfort was that strava was proving to me that I was riding as fast as ever by my own standards and also that I was doing some of the local hills as fast as some of the Yorkshire cyclo cross league regulars who regularly beat me in races. So I reached the start line on Sunday morning feeling tired but confident in my own ability.

One thing about the 'neutralised' section of the race is that it is run off at a stately 30mph, so it pays to be warmed up on the start line, and I went off up the road as far as the turn off to Simon Fell and back to open up the lungs before lining up at the back of the race. Everybody jostles to be at the front, but I don't have enough speed for a fast start, and hate being overtaken anyway. You lose time as everyone rolls out, but its easy enough to pick your way up through the field on the road and lower slopes of Ingleborough, at the same time boosting your ego by passing lots of people, and in any case the front of the bunch is a very 'twitchy' and hazardous place on the road to Horton in Ribblesdale, bringing some riders to a premature finish.

The approach to Simon Fell was lovely and fairly dry and rideable this year and for once the leaders were not even on the hill when it came into my view. I knew then that I must be doing OK, and I was managing to stay on my bike and ride lots of sections where others were off and walking. I took it steady on Simon Fell, go too hard and you end up grovelling on the next easier and more rideable sections. This tactic paid off and I had a good ride up from Rawnsley's Leap to the summit.

Over the rocky summit and jump off to pick my way down the steep grassy slope onto the footpath. Fell running pays off on this section as its a bit easier to run along until the stony track gets smooth enough to ride before diving off over the moors towards Cold Cotes. I managed two falls on the way down, one at the peat ditch that gets me every year. When will I remember its not rideable!

Another slight change of tactic, I freewheel along the lane from Cold Cotes, stuffing down flapjack and a gel and having a good drink. This means I can concentrate on riding up the valley towards Whernside. I pass a few riders on the climb out of Ingleton but then I'm on my own and as they catch me again we share the work to the turn off. There seem to be more cars than ever on the roads and we get stuck in traffic a few times along the way, hugely frustrating.

Last year I got stuck in a very slow moving queue of people walking up Whernside so I pass as many people as I can on the approach to the climb and on the wider steps at the bottom before hitting the inevitable bottleneck on the steepest section. At the top of the steps the wind is blissfully absent and its actually a relief to get on the bike and ride up to the summit, with a magnificent view down to Ribblehead over my right shoulder. Dib in, shove down more food and gel, and away down the hill.

Whernside is the descent that everybody loves to hate. The top section starts innocently enough, but then there are steps, rideable with courage but not for the fainthearted, followed by slabs punctuated with yawning gaps and boggy ditches off to the side. When that horror is over a section of rocky path awaits, with massive boulders waiting to rip out spokes and bend derailleurs. Only when you have negotiated these terrors are you rewarded with a lovely smooth gravel track to Ribblehead. I am a coward by nature, inclined to bottle it at every opportunity! I have spent much of the summer forcing myself to ride down all the worst most slippery, steep and stony paths in Calderdale to prepare me for this. I am happy to say that I rode everything except the steps, and that was mainly because there were some walkers (well that gave me an honourable excuse to dismount!). I cant say that I brought much style or panache to the descent, but I did it my way! I even passed quite a few people. One minor fall and that first twinge of cramp as I got up.

More food at Ribblehead and onto the road. I feel pretty good, but as soon as the road starts to go up the cramp starts and I'm pedalling in squares. I try standing up on the pedals but that makes things worse, so I push on and wait for the next downhill to try and get my feet out of the pedals and stretch the muscles. This happens every year. Its so annoying. I still feel good but my legs are protesting. I take the opportunity to recover a bit on the run in to Horton In Ribblesdale and then give it everything on the climb up Pen y Gent lane. My legs settle down again into a bit more of a rhythm as I get to the flatter section. I'm doing OK, passing a few more people. Everything is telling me to get off my bike, to stop the pain but I know that this is one of my 'good' sections where I am usually able to ride faster and further up the hill than some of my fellow back markers. I keep going until the path gets too steep to ride and start the steady trudge to the top, leaning on my bike for support until the steep corner that means its just a quarter of a mile more to climb. All the time I'm focusing on the rider just in front. If I can catch him before that rock. Mission accomplished. If I can get her by the top of the grass. Another one down. Just keep thinking about these small achievable steps, don't think about the distant summit just yet! Soon enough that final hill is climbed.

If Whernside is the descent that I fear, Pen y Gent seems to have the opposite effect. I once read an interview with Rob Jebb where he said he didn't use his brakes all the way down. I haven't quite reached that standard yet, but there is something about the wave of relief and the non-technical nature of the downhill that means I do always really go for it on this bit. It's not logical, because a high speed crash here would hurt far more than a lower speed crash on Whernside. Improvements to the path last year have made this whole section incredibly fast, and being towards the back of the field there are not that many riders still coming up so it is pretty much a free run. What an adrenalin rush!

Shaken up by the downhill but buzzing from the excitement of it, its a blessed relief to reach the tarmac. I'm soon brought back down to earth by the dreaded cramp, but the end is in sight and I'm soon rolling over the bridge and into the finish funnel in a time of 4:42.

OK, so Rob Jebb was at the summit of Pen y Gent by the time I got to the top of Whernside. I am no champion. But the great thing about this race is that every rider, whether in first or last place, has overcome a massive physical and technical challenge using skills, courage and sheer will power. This is the essence of the event, only a handful will ever win a prize, but everybody can achieve their personal goals.

The other thing that is so fantastic about the race is the atmosphere. A few times I felt almost tearful at the support from the crowds and the encouragement from fellow riders (well, I was pretty tired and emotional!). It is a friendly event. The organisation is fantastic and efficient but never officious. The marshalls and mountain rescue are always cheerful whatever the weather. The people on the podiums are an eclectic mix of elite riders, stars of the past, everyday club riders and thankfully an increasing number of younger riders who will keep this Yorkshire tradition going into the future.

Time to start planning for next year. What better way to celebrate being 50 than a sub four and a half hour ride.........

A Sunday in Hell - Three Peaks 2012

2012 marked my third attempt at the Three Peaks and I had a simple ambition to beat 5 hours. My first year (2009) in fairly good weather I just missed out despite 3 punctures, finishing in 5-20 after faffing around for ages trying and failing to repair my last flat on Pen y Ghent. 2011 saw my second attempt - worse weather but I was going well until I cramped really badly on the road from Ribblehead, didn't eat enough and ended up walking on some of the rideable bits of PYG, finishing in 5-07.

This year I was determined to do well and started training in March doing some fell running. This quickly confirmed I'm definitely a cyclist. My knees don't seem to have any 'springs' in them and after a while I shuffle along like some sort of weird peg man. However, I stuck with it and I can run at least 8 miles across the moors if I really have to! In April I was lucky enough to get some work (designing cycle routes!) in the Lake District which gave me a chance to ride some classic road climbs and Grizedale MTB course on my cross bike. I even managed to do two hours at Grizedale followed by the evening cross race in Todmorden park one day! Almost a professional! I was laid low by the drugs that I take for a long term illness that I have in June, but did some serious miles on the road throughout July, riding every steep local climb, seeking out all the nasty slippery cobbled climbs as well as regular cross-bike rides across the moors. At the end of July we did the Mary Towneley Loop one afternoon, a tough 40 miles with steep climbs and technical descents. All going well! An expedition to ride down through the Outer Hebrides with full camping gear in August kept the fitness going and gave us lots of headwind practice! Onto the start of the cross season and a painful reminder that I really must learn how to jump on and off my bike properly - good job I don't want any more children!

I'm lucky to live quite high up on a big hillside so its hard to avoid uphill training. My daily commute home from the railway station (with bike, bag, laptop etc) in September started to include a run up the 'Hundred Steps' in Hebden Bridge (there are actually 105) followed by a run/ride up the steep cobbled Buttress and a second set of steps towards Heptonstall village, a ride up the cobbled high street and finally get home on the edge of the moors about 600ft of climbing later!

I was pretty certain on the start line that despite the dire weather this could be my year to beat 5 hours. It didn't take long to shatter that illusion - even before the start of the climb proper at Ingleborough there was a 'new' stream crossing and soon after we were all pushing/carrying/sliding across fields that are normally rideable. So here's my account of the race.

Simon Fell is usually the scene of a 'biblical' procession of colourful riders stretching to the top, but this year all is grey/green with visibility just a few yards. Despite being on a vast hillside the overwhelming sense is of being shut inside an angry vortex of howling wind and driving rain. The only view is the feet of the person slipping in front and looking for somewhere vaguely solid to grasp and stand on for the next step. There is no queue at the famous stile this year as already the field is fragmented (mostly well in front of me!). I shout my thanks to the two heroic helpers who haul bikes across here every year. Some of the next part is rideable, but trying to steer and balance in the screaming wind is nigh on impossible. Ahead, I see a woman's bike literally blown out of her hands as she tries to shoulder it! At last we reach the grim rocky summit. On a good day the descent of Ingleborough is a real blast, bouncing over tussocky grass and charging down the steep banks. This year it is yet another torture of trotting and grinding through bog after bog, but as we emerge from the cloud there is at least a view to the bottom.

After the now traditional face plant into the mud at Cold Cotes I'm 30 mins down on my schedule. Shovel down some food and an energy gel on the downhill road. Already my legs are cramping in the cold and its actually a relief to start the climb out of Ingleton. I pick off quite a lot of riders every time the road goes uphill, and I try to jump on the wheel of any fast riders who come past. The gale force tailwind has been a help getting to Whernside and I start the rocky steps feeling good. Back up into the blackness and we're in a frustrating 'traffic jam' of idiots trying to carry a bike up a mountain! I can sense time ticking away but there isn't much scope to pass and people are constantly catching handlebars and brake levers in spokes as we crowd together. Off the steps and onto the track, which is rutted single track punctuated with big rocks. I've practised on this sort of terrain so much that I know I can ride this stuff where lots of people walk. I set off on my bike - only to be quickly blown off it again! Back on again and its the same story, but this time I land heavily on my thigh and struggle to stand up. This weather is serious and not the place to get hurt (my wife was airlifted off here in last years race!). I resign myself to a bit more pushing and carrying towards the top! It's a similar story slithering along the top part of the descent. For once however the rain has an advantage because the 'terryfying steps' and stone causeway are being constantly jetwashed by driving rain and are a lot less slippery than usual so I manage to ride most of the way and cross the drains without punctures. All is well until another rider doesn't quite move far enough over to let me pass and I plunge off the edge of the causeway and over the handlebars! Oh well, par for the course and no real damage done. Ribblehead seems a long time coming and is a welcome sight! To finish in 5 hours I need to get from Ribblehead to the finish in 1.5 hours, last year it took me that long to get from Ribblehead to the top of Pen y Ghent.

A nice person from Zipvit shoves an energy gel into my hand, reminding me that I must eat! I gobble the gel and then a banana and some flapjack. I suffered like a dog on the road to Horton last year. This year I take it in my stride, trying to control the cramp in my legs by pedalling heel down and concentrating on catching one rider after another. As Sean Kelly would say I am suffering big time. There's a bloke in front going roughly the same pace as me so I close the gap and sit on his wheel for the last couple of mile to Pen y Ghent to try to give myself a break.

I panic when I see the ford at the foot of Pen y Ghent but someone shouts keep left its rideable and for once they are not lying to get a good photo and I stay upright! I love climbing Pen y Ghent, it suits a road climber and I manage to pick off a few people on the way up and ride further up than most. Eventually the gradient gets too much and its off the bike. I can barely carry it - all that wind blowing has been twisting my back and its killing me. I push as much as I can, but the wind keeps catching the back end and blowing it across the track! I can sense myself shutting down and each step is a becoming a real challenge as my strength ebbs away. Summit at last! The cheerful marshalls congratulate me - but they are the real heroes stood there for hours on end.

The top part of the descent is on the grass and I find myself sliding uncontrollably as it gets steeper and steeper. There's no dignified way to stop so I throw myself off before I hit the rocks! A quick trot down the steep stony bit and then its onto the track. I remember reading that Nick Craig doesnt use his brakes on this bit and dare myself to do the same - but I don't have his guts or talent! I manage to pass some more cautious people, and in no time I'm back on the road. There's a sense of elation as you hit the tarmac but still a few miles to the finish and I push on as hard as I can. Every undulation brings searing pain and cramp but at last I drop round the bend and over the bridge to the finish.

It's impossible to say how you feel after such a self inflicted ordeal. Relieved and elated to finish in one piece. A sense of 'mission accomplished'. Results wise I got my best ever placing but my worst ever time. It's all irrelevant however. The real story, as for most people in the race, is knowing that I couldn't have pushed myself any harder and I survived one of the tougest years of the toughest race.