An Appeal on Behalf of the Three Peaks Syndrome Association

Three Peaks Syndrome generally manifests itself in the early days of summer, when in late May or early June, even the most tight-fisted Yorkshire-man may feel an irresistible urge to part with £50 quid and sign up for another year.  Around 650 people are affected annually, mainly in the north of England but it has been known to occur in cyclists from as far afield as Australia.

The initial stages of the disease are characterised by anxiety, waiting to see if the entry has been accepted. By July this might progress in two ways, acute anxiety will occur if the entry has been accepted, while mild anxiety may continue for a further 6 weeks for those on the reserve list.

The secondary stage is acceptance. The patient becomes afflicted with a grim determination to take long bicycle rides over the most unsuitable terrain for cycling. Even the most innocent bike ride may end up as some sort of 'hill-fest'

This may involve carrying a bicycle up steep hills, riding down steep rocky paths, carrying a bike up moorland steps and then riding it back down again. Some patients may also choose to run, with or without a bike. It is not uncommon for patients to harm themselves and their bicycles during this period. If a family cycling holiday is planned during August or September, it may be disrupted by odd behaviour such as 'why don't we go this way, away from the road for a bit'.

By mid-August all patients will experience nausea in the pit of their stomach, triggered by words such as: Ingleborough, Whernside, Pen y Gent, cyclo-cross. This is often accompanied by obsessive behaviour about tyres, gears, brakes and race day nutrition. Fortunately there are many online communities to feed this obsession, so family members may be spared the worse.

The culmination of the disease is mass hysteria, where all sufferers converge on a small village in the Yorkshire Dales and proceed to ride en-mass along road, tracks and footpaths. Scrambling up the most unsuitable steep slopes, down boggy moorland tussocks and mud-strewn slabs. Their final act is to hurtle down Pen y Gent lane at breakneck speed, only to finish back where they started.

Exhausted but elated, they may celebrate in the traditional way by consuming alcohol and recounting their 'journey' to each other with great detail about their physical and mental anguish.

If you or your family has been affected by these issues, just say NO next year! Our thanks go out to all the organisers, marshalls and mountain rescue staff who look after these poor souls.

300 miles and one Black Dog

Like many people this year I have been fighting depression. I can’t say why I am depressed. I have a good job, a home, a loving family, I’m physically healthy and I live in a beautiful part of the country. What is not to be happy about? I have to confess, I normally have little patience when I read about celebrities who apparently ‘have it all’ and depression, but the bottom line is you can’t buy happiness. And then there's the whole Brexit angst, plunging the entire country into mild shock, and an upsurge of random attacks by terrorists and unhinged loners. I guess it all just becomes too much to take in sometimes.

On Monday night I watched a documentary about Bradley Wiggins. I was aware of his epic binge earlier in his career after the 2004 Olympics, documented in his book ‘My Time’. I also sensed in his interviews in the run up to the 2010 Tour that all was not well and it wasnt going to be a repeat of his breakthrough 2009 Tour. When an ‘introvert’ talks himself up, it always seems that its an exercise in self-assurance.  At least that’s how it works for me. When you are actually confident, you’re more likely to say something self-deprecating. It’s complicated being a depressive! I wasn’t aware that he’d plunged into depression after the 2012 Tour and Olympic TT wins, coming down from the 'high' and struggling to adjust to being a celebrity.

But after listening to his experience I could see what has happened to me over the last year, albeit in a far less pressured and public environment. You live your life trying to fulfil as many obligations as possible, to not let anybody down and suddenly find you’re emotionally exhausted with nothing left to give. But the work, and the other things you have to do keep on piling up and suddenly you’re like a rabbit frozen in the headlights, with life bearing down on you at a speed that you can no longer cope with. This year I definitely didn't cope and have messed up things at work and at home. A friend of mine, who I once helped through a similar experience, describes this as ‘The Fear’. For me it comes as a sort of writers block, because mostly I have to write to earn money, but also a gradual withdrawal from all other activities.

Once I reach this state it’s really hard to break out. I find it hard to make progress with anything. I know in my head that a problem shared is a problem halved, but the prospect of confessing to my hopelessness is too much to bear. Equally the prospect of relaxing and socialising to get things in perspective is unrealistic because you don’t want to impose your misery and self-loathing on others. I know that we should talk, but talking for me is hard at the best of times and no matter how much I think about it I have no real reason to be anxious, stressed or depressed, it just seems to happen out of the blue.

Cycling can be a great help at these times. Normally at this time of year I am training for the Three Peaks cyclo-cross and such is the nature of the event that there is no choice but to get the hours in, trekking over the moors, driven by the fear of failure, of not living up to my own standards. While this is hard, it is pretty therapeutic and mentally cleansing.

This year I didn’t get into the Three Peaks and lost a bit of focus. However, I was down to do the Ride London 100 and knew that it would be a good idea to try some longer rides than my usual 25-30 miles circuits. Up until three weeks ago the ‘Black Dog’ had stopped me. One Saturday in early July I got up, donned my cycling clothes and then sat, and sat, all day long. Unable to face going out of the house. By the end of the day I hated myself for being so lazy and useless.

The next day I got up early and forced myself out. I headed up into the Yorkshire Dales riding as fast and hard as I could, to Skipton, to Grassington, over the hills to Settle. Not thinking, just concentrating on pushing the pedals round. Eventually I started to feel better and take notice of my surroundings. I was alone up in the hills between Settle and Slaidburn, not quite sure where I was going, on a road that I probably hadn’t been on since 1980 when I went on my first club run to Tosside. 

It reminded me of everything that I love about cycling, the adventure of new places and the ever-changing face of familiar haunts. I returned home almost 100 miles done, feeling more able to face the world than I have done for 6 months. The next week I did a long Audax ride, 135 miles covered out to the Lancashire coast and back, enjoying the camaraderie of riding with others for the first time in ages. 

Speeding along in our mini-peleton I suddenly felt at home, like when I first discovered as a teenager that cycling was ‘my thing’. Last weekend was the Ride London 100, another great experience which just left me wanting to do more and more. I’d happily have ridden round again straight away if I had the legs!

So I’m writing this for anybody else who may, for whatever reason or none, have lost their ‘mojo’ this year. I know it is so hard to get going, but you are not alone. If it is in any way possible to get the wheels turning once more, get out there, but do it on your own terms. Cycling and life are about the art of the possible, not about meeting the expectations and wishes of everybody else.

Ride London Surrey 100

You would imagine that the streets of London would be pretty deserted at 5:30 on a Sunday morning. I was looking forward to riding through the city's ripped backside a la Iggy Pop (with that song in my head!). Not so!  Marble Arch and Oxford St were already noisy and busy with buses and cars. Travelling onwards towards the City I was joined at every side street by more and more cyclists. As we headed East, bleary eyed revellers were emerging from nightclubs ready to go home to bed. I love it when you see these glimpses of other lives from the seat of your bike.

Following the yellow signs we were all fed onto Cycle Superhighway 2 to Stratford and the Olympic Park. Unfortunately so was all the other traffic, queued nose-to-tail because the adjacent A12 was closed for the Sportive riders. It was easy to spot the regular cycle commuters weaving their way through the traffic, while the leisure cyclists all looked a bit bewildered. What really surprised me was that they waited behind the cyclists advance stop lines as if they were still in their cars, leaving the bike box empty.  Perhaps its time to bring back the old 'Public Information Films' to explain how to use these features.

Lucky Bagpuss waiting to start the challenge

It was an anxious 20 minutes of steady shuffling through Bow Roundabout and Stratford High St before I was able to reach the starting gate. A few minutes late for my allocated time but no harm done, apart from no time for the toilet! Standing in the start area the sheer scale of the event became apparent. In every direction, as far as the eye could see, there were colourful but slightly worried looking cyclists.

At 7:00 we were off. Steady pace out of the Olympic Park and then onto the open road. I latched on to a couple of fast moving, big solid looking German blokes. Greipel lookalikes? Riding back across London on silent main roads through all the tunnels and overpasses that you normally avoid on a bike was a bit surreal. 'It's like being in a video game' said my new companion, in his best Schwarzenegger accent. In no time at all we were out through Kensington and heading towards Richmond Park, Mecca for London's cyclists.

I have to admit to holding some reservations about Sportives. The purist in me says that if you want to race bikes, get a license and do proper races. Somehow the idea of training and riding really hard in a sportive seems morally wrong! I know I have autistic tendencies and I never know in my own mind what to do faced with ambivalent situations. I love riding fast but riding at race speed is a different kettle of fish. It is usually a horrible feeling of grey illness and impending exhaustion, punctured occasionally by relief or euphoria. Why put yourself through all that when you don't have to? I settled for riding fast along the main roads and then sitting up to enjoy the views in the Surrey hills. The decision was pretty much taken out of my hands anyway when we reached the first climb to Newlands Corner and the fast boys and girls that I was with disappeared up the hill.

I was joined by a friendly bloke who I'd been chatting with at the start and we rode along for a while, taking in the scenery. I'm always put off riding anywhere near London because of the amount of traffic, even on the country lanes, but with closed roads you could really appreciate the pretty villages, rolling hills and ancient woodlands.

The gradient on Leith Hill was surprisingly brutal and I lost contact with my companion as we just had to ride it at our own pace. Thankfully it was all over quickly and we were soon off down the other side. I think it was here that we passed the aftermath of a nasty crash with around seven riders down. One lady appeared to have a broken collar bone. Sickeningly, the blood from a head injury was trickling across the road while the man involved was being held carefully still by one of the marshalls. It had only just happened and there were no medics there yet. This brought back memories of a hideous fatal crash that I witnessed about 10 years ago where I had the misfortune to see somebody bleeding to death from a head injury while we waited for an ambulance. I am forever haunted by the way her breathing went from normal, to laboured, to death rattle and by the thickness and stickiness of the blood as it dried. Quite out of the blue I found myself shuddering and tears rolling down my face in some sort of post-traumatic episode. I saw a few other shaken people sat head in hands at the side of the road. These times in life you just wish somebody would give you a hug, and you count your blessings! I don't know if this was the crash that ended up with air ambulance and route diversions for the later riders. Soon afterwards there were two other less serious crashes on other downhill sections. I really hope that all involved make a full recovery.

This illustrated my other 'problem' with sportives. We may all like to imagine that we are Peter Sagan, Ronan Bardet, Lizzie Armitstead or Mark Cavendish but the fact is that these are exceptional bike handlers in a field of the world's best experts, and they still crash pretty frequently. In a sportive the fast riders are often more like a bull in a china shop, assuming that slower riders know what they are doing, will ride predictably and in a straight line and will not stop suddenly. These are wrong assumptions. It is not a race or a club run and the majority of people taking part are simply not used to riding in a group and just want to enjoy the ride and get around the course. Finishing is an achievement for them. They can't be blamed for not observing 'your' personal race rules. As in real racing, the safety onus is on the person overtaking from behind to do so safely. It is absolutely terrifying to come down a fast descent with some nutter 6 inches from your back wheel and it's a completely unnecessary risk which even the pro cyclists rarely take, instead allowing each other enough space in case things go wrong. Rant over.

Onward to Box Hill. If God (or Carlsberg) had invented a hill for the bicycle, it is Box Hill. The gentle, even gradient is perfect for cycling, the tarmac is smooth, it has a few 'continental style' hairpins and stunning views that make you feel like you are in a Frank Patterson sketch. I can see why people from miles around would choose to head there.

The summit of Box Hill included a refuelling point. I took the chance to fill up on malt loaf and other snacks and sat down for a while to watch the spectacle of riders passing by. It was amazing to see all shapes, sizes, ages and genders passing by. Everybody smiling, relieved to get to the top, some clearly surprised and delighted by what they had achieved. It was quite tempting to spectate for longer. A man flashed by on an orange Brompton, overtaking 3 immaculately turned out club riders. Another bloke swished up to the top, one arm strapped carefully across his chest. Then you start looking at the jerseys, so many charities, so many people trying to do something for others while having a bit of fun. You know that these will be people who survived an illness themselves, who survived the death of a husband, a child, or they may be full time carers for the critically ill and injured, or helping those fleeing from war, famine or persecution. So many reasons why people choose to ride for charity. Whatever you think of the cycling politics of these big events, there is no doubt about the huge impact such rides must have for the income of the charity sector. In my own case, I was raising money for the Trigeminal Neuralgia Association, (http://www.tna.org.uk/) an organisation that provided me with valuable emotional support from fellow sufferers and practical information when it came to treatment options. I managed to raise a modest £180 (donate at http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/lordonabike) .

From Box Hill it is not quite downhill all the way to London but that's what it feels like. A train of riders came past on my right and I jumped on the back for a free ride pretty much all the way to the Mall. The crowds were lining the roads the whole way in, and there we were, zipping along at 25 mph, sweeping round the bends and waving at the children like some sort of rag-bag returning army. It was a side of London I'd never seen before, a massive 20 mile long street party with the riders taking centre stage. Normally pedalling through west London is anything but pleasurable. This must be what it's like to be in the Royal Family. The queen probably imagines that standing at the roadside waving flags is what ordinary people do all day.

The politics and intention behind the Ride London weekend is interesting to me. It was explained by TfL at a meeting I attended with British Cycling on the opening Friday as part of the Choose Cycling initiative (https://www.britishcycling.org.uk/campaigning). I spend a lot of my time working on strategies to boost cycling. Sportives and mass cycle rides are usually supported by councils as a way to attract visitors to come and spend money.

The Ride London weekend is different. Closing the roads of central London on Saturday is all about getting families who live in London to explore the city centre by bicycle.  It's great to see people out and about with children, without the fear of getting run over. Most people can't even do this in the street where they live. The event gives them a little snippet of what cities can be like when the car is used appropriately and not to the detriment of everyone else, helping to build public political support for cycling infrastructure. 70% of daily traffic on Blackfriars Bridge is now cyclists, but only 2% of all trips in greater London are by bike. There is a long way to go towards mass cycling in most boroughs outside central London.

Lots of stuff going on at the Free Cycle festival

The Sportive is a legacy of the 2012 London Olympics. Entry is always oversubscribed with preference given to London addresses. It is a reward for the citizens to enable them to be inspired by the Olympians to try and take on a challenge themselves. Inspiration to participation. TfL had to spend money to organise the first year events when nobody knew whether they would be a success, but now the sponsors meet the full cost of the weekend, but it still of course relies on the political support of the areas through which it passes, whose residents are disrupted by the weekend of festivities and road closures. TfL do some follow-up monitoring and estimate that around 20,000 new cyclists are still cycling 4 months after being inspired to start by the Ride London weekend. That figure excludes existing cyclists who maybe do extra cycle trips to work and other places as part of their preparation for the 100 miles ride. The mens and womens professional races are seen as the vehicle to generate tourism revenue, showcasing the city and the Surrey countryside on international TV. Indeed, the commentator on Eurosport noted that one of the riders had booked a holiday in Britain after taking part in last year's Tour of Britain.

TfL and British Cycling officials show other councils around the new infrastructure as part of the weekend. Embankment now moves 18% more people per day than it did when there was no cycle track, so far from reducing capacity, the space taken from cars has enabled more movement.

Nearly at the finish. I'd been chatting to a fellow Bianchi owner on the way up Whitehall, where crowds lined the roads to cheer us. She was perfectly dressed top to toe in Bianchi team gear, even down to the celeste shoes. As we passed through Admiralty Arch onto the Mall after 5 hours on the road I didn't want it to be over. 'We'd better slow down and savour this moment'. 'No way, its a Strava segment!' she shouted as she sprinted off to the finish line.  I still don't quite get the sportive mentality......

They think its all over, but the cycling revolution is just beginning.

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.