How long will I slide, separate my side
Hmm. This morning, I very probably shouldn't have gone to work. However, Monday's forecast snow was a non-event, the weather didn't look that bad, and I'd promised to deliver something to the office for one of my colleagues. So off I went.
Walk to Ealing Broadway in the lightest of light dustings of snow. Catch train to Reading. Arrive at Reading. Collect bike.
The snow in Reading was a little heavier, but still not really worth bothering about. I waterproofed up, hopped on my bike, and headed off. And on a downhill slope when I needed to stop, I discovered that my back brake lever was stuck rigid. No back brakes for me.
I tried to brake gently with my front brake, and skidded. Recovered, skidded the other way. Recovered, skidded the other way... and with a dreadful sense of inevitability, smacked sideways into the road.
Oww.
A nice lady came over to check if I was ok. I was.
Anyway, I needed to pick up the thing I was delivering to a colleague from Evans the bike shop, so I pushed my bike there, collected it, and asked them to fix my brakes. The guy twiddled about for a moment, declared it an un-snow-related mechanical failure and pronounced them fine.
I headed back along the tow path, pausing only to skid again as I hit a kerb that was hiding under snow (and coming off with nothing worse than a mildly undignified halt).
I got off and pushed up the steep section of the cycle path, and across the main road, and resumed. Then at a cross roads, my back brakes seized entirely. In the exact opposite of what had happened earlier, the brake blocks were now clamped firmly round the wheel while the lever flopped about uselessly.
I set off half-pushing, half-carrying my bike. I don't know if you've ever tried to push a bike while lifting the back wheel off the ground; it's quite hard. Plus the pedals are sticky-outy things which (whatever you try) will twiddle themselves round to be exactly the height of the section of your leg you bounced off the road half an hour earlier.
Oww.
I gave up, and pushed the bike, letting the back wheel sledge along. After a few minutes, it freed up enough to turn, and I walked to work. Which was more than a mile, up a hill.
Mind you, given the way cars were careering around on the road, revving their engines hopelessly in bottom gear, I'm quite pleased I was on the pavement. By the time I arrived, the snow was thick and powdery, and ankle-deep in places.
And do you know what? I still love snow. As I arrived at work, I stopped to watch a red kite wheeling around the sky, snowflakes tumbling all around it. Even Reading looks pretty in the snow :)
Walk to Ealing Broadway in the lightest of light dustings of snow. Catch train to Reading. Arrive at Reading. Collect bike.
The snow in Reading was a little heavier, but still not really worth bothering about. I waterproofed up, hopped on my bike, and headed off. And on a downhill slope when I needed to stop, I discovered that my back brake lever was stuck rigid. No back brakes for me.
I tried to brake gently with my front brake, and skidded. Recovered, skidded the other way. Recovered, skidded the other way... and with a dreadful sense of inevitability, smacked sideways into the road.
Oww.
A nice lady came over to check if I was ok. I was.
Anyway, I needed to pick up the thing I was delivering to a colleague from Evans the bike shop, so I pushed my bike there, collected it, and asked them to fix my brakes. The guy twiddled about for a moment, declared it an un-snow-related mechanical failure and pronounced them fine.
I headed back along the tow path, pausing only to skid again as I hit a kerb that was hiding under snow (and coming off with nothing worse than a mildly undignified halt).
I got off and pushed up the steep section of the cycle path, and across the main road, and resumed. Then at a cross roads, my back brakes seized entirely. In the exact opposite of what had happened earlier, the brake blocks were now clamped firmly round the wheel while the lever flopped about uselessly.
I set off half-pushing, half-carrying my bike. I don't know if you've ever tried to push a bike while lifting the back wheel off the ground; it's quite hard. Plus the pedals are sticky-outy things which (whatever you try) will twiddle themselves round to be exactly the height of the section of your leg you bounced off the road half an hour earlier.
Oww.
I gave up, and pushed the bike, letting the back wheel sledge along. After a few minutes, it freed up enough to turn, and I walked to work. Which was more than a mile, up a hill.
Mind you, given the way cars were careering around on the road, revving their engines hopelessly in bottom gear, I'm quite pleased I was on the pavement. By the time I arrived, the snow was thick and powdery, and ankle-deep in places.
And do you know what? I still love snow. As I arrived at work, I stopped to watch a red kite wheeling around the sky, snowflakes tumbling all around it. Even Reading looks pretty in the snow :)