Commute

Yesterday I did my first full cycle commute for over 10-years. 

I have ridden past my place of work numerous times on weekend and week-night training rides. Via cycleroute 64 it’s under 15-miles, so represents a decent commute — especially on a fresh October (almost November) morning. 

So Sunday evening I ironed and rolled up my trousers and shirt and placed them in one of my panniers. In the other pannier I placed my U-lock and my waterproofs (my Hush Puppies were already positioned under my desk at work). 

After filling up on fresh coffee and Shreddies, I braved the crisp morning air and began peddling to work. Dressed in my usual black Lycra, but with the addition of newly procured Planet X winter gloves and Pearl Izumi arm and leg warmers to ensure I didn’t reach work half frozen.

To be honest it was fabulous. While my lightweight Boardman felt unusually lumbering under my rear — now fitted with a rack and laden panniers, the feeling of self-propelled progress through the waking streets of Newark was exhilarating. I knew the route well, but I gave myself a good twenty minutes buffer before I had to be at my desk. I didn’t need it.

I arrived on-time and feeling brilliant. I could sense the quiet admiration of my colleagues, even if they did jest about my Lycra-clad legs.

I was well prepared when I got to the office. My clothes were dry, and having been rolled not folded, looked fine. I’m someone who overheats easily, so I packed baby-wipes to freshen up and a roll-on deodorant to keeps things smelling good. It all worked a treat. The roll-on and wipes now live in my desk ready for the next cycle commute.

Unfortunately, due to my wife working shifts, I will have to use the car for work most days, but I should be able to ride in at least twice a week. I worked out this will save me around £20 a week in fuel and help me continue to become a better cyclist. 

The only issue being that my new Knog Blinders, while being absolutely brilliant at drawing driver attention, didn’t light up the journey enough for me to tackle the unlit trail part of Route 64 in the dark on the way home. Maybe next time, we’ll see.

My next commute is Friday. I can’t bloody wait. 🙂

Advertisements

Halfords, occasionally Hellfrauds

Halfords gets a bad press. Like the US gadget store Best Buy, it doesn’t lack annoyed critics on the internet eager to complain about the ineptitude of its employees. On cycling forums it is often cruelly dismissed as Hellfrauds. To those uninitiated or non-British, Halfords is an automotive retailer (and workshop) that is also the UK’s largest bicycle retailer.

Last year I bought one of Halford’s flagship bikes — the Boardman Hybrid Pro (the only place to purchase this excellent range). It’s a smart aluminium framed flatbar road bike with a full carbon fork, Avid Elixir 5 hydraulic brakes, a BB30 FSA Energy chainset and a SRAM Rival groupset (with the lovely semi-carbon flatbar DoubleTap shifters). It’s lovely. I added a set of Easton EC90 carbon bar-ends for comfort and I haven’t looked back.

Yep. The Richey wheelset isn’t the lightest, but I think along with cockroaches, they’re one of the few things that would survive a nuclear holocaust. 

When I bought the bike (through my work’s tax-free Bike-to-Work scheme), I was dubious of Halfords’ reputation as a nasty faceless corporation with muppets manning the counters. 

My first experience of Halfords’ customer service peeps was in January of this year when I placed my order at the Boardman-approved Lincoln store. I was delighted to find that the two guys assisting me were both knowledgable and helpful. They went through the pros and cons of each model, and explained what accessories I would need. I didn’t let them know at the time I was a cycle nerd (along with being many other kinds of nerd, as my wife would attest) who had already decided on his purchase. And I didn’t need to. It was a splendid experience, that was fortified later, when I popped in for some advice on some accessories, that sadly they didn’t have in stock (the assistant — a different but equally informed young chap, provided me with the product codes needed. We subsequently had an involved conversation about Orange mountain bikes — one of which I own and he was building).

My second visit to a Halfords store was in the middle of the summer when my hydraulic Avid brakes had gained a rather unfortunate air bubble. I checked YouTube and other sources and found that Avid Elixir brakes are a pure-breed bastard to bleed and require significant TLC. I decided to try out my warranty and the fact that I hadn’t yet used my promised 6-week service.

This time I visited my local Newark (non-Boardman) store. I was apprehensive. Newark’s BikeHut (Halfords’ name for its bicycle arm) is small — tucked away to the back of a modest floorspace. I had visited a few weeks before to have a look and view its stock. On this first visit I was turned off by one of its employees — a middle aged hippy-type guy who was far too full of his own bicycling knowledge and prowess. He was waxing profusely about his own skill and subtly running down his eye-rolling colleague. I left thinking he was an epic douchebag.

Upon returning with my hobbled air bubbled Boardman in tow I was relieved that the long-haired douchebag was nowhere to be seen and I approached the counter. Within seconds of explaining my issue to a different but likeable older gentleman, the very same shower-avoiding baby-boomer had emerged from the workshop dungeon and was taking over my query — no doubt desperate to have a go at something other than the usual fairy bikes and broken sub-£300 Carrera’s that must dominate his day. Now I must take much of what I have written above back. He proved to be the epitome of customer service and, when he learned I was quite the enthusiastic cyclist, proved understanding — never condescending — and was visually pleased to sort out my issue. I left perplexed, a little disappointed at myself, and hopeful.

The next day I received a voicemail explaining that while the Avids had proved quite the bitch (as YouTube had promised), my hirsute friend had sorted my issue and had calibrated my gears for good measure. Even better, when I collected my beloved bicycle en route home that night, he had charged the work to my 6-week service and I had nothing to pay. Result! +2 Halfords!

Today was my third visit to Halfords. I have decided to fully fulfil my dream of turning my Hybrid Pro into a proper commuter ride, so fulfilling the governments desire that I leave my car at home. I needed a rack, fenders, better commuter lights and panniers.

I pulled up at the Mansfield store somewhat worried. The branch had large and numerous automotive doors down one side and the actual showroom looked squeezed off to one-side. But upon opening the doors I was buoyed by the sight of a mezzanine floor of cycle goodness with Boardman bikes clearly visible! This was a “Boardman approved Halfords!”

Shame on me?

I entered hopeful that all my needs would be satisfied.

Upon perusing the store I found a Topeak rack marked “DX” that I assumed would be disc compatible (the Halfords website recommended a similar rack for the disc equipped Boardman). I approached the counter confident that what I held in my hand would service my needs. I was faced with the sort of gormless fuckwit only a Farrelly Brothers movie would dare present as a believable representation of an operational human being. He looked blankly at me as if I had asked him to name each and every star in the known and unknown galaxies. He was the sort of person who would find the request, “a Big Mac and fries”, utterly perplexing.

As seconds ticked by, it felt like seasons and even years had passed, and then suddenly without words, he turned and looked helplessly at his colleague, who was busy looking confused at a sub-£300 Carrera mounted on a work-stand behind the counter. The other assistant rotated slowly as if using some archaic machinery built by tiny medieval rodents before explaining that it wouldn’t fit (I wasn’t convinced), but that he would he would find one that did. Clearly this guy was the one who had been on the course to use the apparently NASA-level Halfords computer that would answer my deeply complex universe bending question. Again the seasons passed. Embarrassed I began wandering the store looking at other wares, occasionally smiling when the second attendant said time and again that it, “would just be a minute”.

Eventually the assistant, who apparently was the only one blessed with the power of speech, called me over and informed me of a rack that would sate my requirements. I quickly picked up the rack, some mudguards (fenders for any American readers), and some cheapish nylon panniers (it was 3 accessories for the price of 2 after all) and l left relieved, and somewhat unnerved that any self-respecting “bicycle store” could dredge the depths of the British workforce so deep, as to find two more incompetent people to work in it.

So Halfords or Hellfrauds? My experiences are towards the former, but heavens help you if you step into the Mansfield store any time soon.

Notes from the saddle

Yep. I have updated to Squarespace 6 and changed the name of the blog. As I hardly ever write about technology these days, I decided to take my writing in a new direction. ​

I will still rant about whatever’s on my mind — whether that be tech, culture, politics or whatever — but I wanted to formally point this site towards my first love: cycling.

​I also hope to start writing much more often. Possibly daily.

​Laters.

Windy ride

I went out on my bike again today. 23 miles on mixed surfaces. Some riverside single-track, some hateful damp grass tracks, gravel access roads and a whole lot of tarmac.

Had a run in with a douche bag in a 4×4, who beeped and pointed aggressively at a narrow pavement. I gestured and swore. He slowed but then thought better of it and sped off. Go die in a fire dude. I had every right of way. The pavement is no place for a fast slick-tyre bike. Also, I had a high visibility windbreaker and was doing near 20mph.