Pete Hindle

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EDIT Seems to be some sort of clash between vimeo.com and the rest of the universe in regards to video hosting. Anyway, go here to see the video in a player (which should be easy to embed but it’s not) and read about why I’ve only made one arts-related video in the past year.

Click here to see the map I’m talking about.

Being offically ‘old’ this year, it’s my ambition to ride the route know as the coast to coast before I become thirty. As part of that ambition, myself, Alan, and Brian did a training ride today along some of the excellent cyclepaths in the area. We were riding into the strong headwinds on the entire trip out, giving us an average speed of about 10mph, and at one point one of those old gnarly cyclists with legs like granite sped past us.

(I think we got pwned, but Brian says it’s something to look forward to - being old gnarly cyclists, that is, not being pwned)

On the way back we stopped off for a beer and burger combo at a Lloyds sports bar on Newcastle’s Quayside. Although it was only midday, already there was a hen party wearing masks at the bar. I felt a little self-conscious in my cycling gear, but mainly knackered.

My flatmate Alan has been having a rough time with his bicycles recently. After I convinced him that cycling was a good way of getting around, he got his bike stolen. Our friend, Topsy, then lent him a replacement which turned out to be one of Matt Seaton’s bicycle-shaped objects.

But no more! I went down to recyke-yr-bike on Saturday and selected him a bike. It’s a shiny yellow bike, with front suspension, and the best gearset I’ve seen in ages. I always get jealous of people who have steel chainset’s because they look fantastic…

Mmmm, baby. Alan got me a fantastic christmas present (and card), so I changed his street tyres over to his new bike, which now looks scarily sexy. In fact, I’m pretty jealous of his bike, and considering using it for a few trips along the Tyne.

Of course, that’s all for next year. This Christmas, I’m taking a break from the glowbikes project that I’ve been working with Brian, and I’m not doing any more work until the 28th. The past few weeks have been continual soldering in order to make a large number of SpokePOV’s, for display on New Years Eve. Until that point… I’m going to eat as much food as possible, open presents, and consume as much coffee as possible.

So, last Thursday I found myself rolling around the floor near Shieldfield after coming off my bike. It was icy, and some learner driver was parked in the way, and it had nothing to do with the five pints that I’d had the night before. Thankfully, I was riding very slowly, so I only really bruised my knee.

I was one my way to do a day’s training at Isis Arts, a local organisation dedicated to doing new media things, and I frankly didn’t have the best time that day as my knee hurt and I was very hungover. So, in order to make myself feel better I brought myself a set of thermal baselayer clothes.

It’s winter, and it’s the North. Despite the fact that it’s been very mild, people here persist in the idea that living ‘oop north’ means that they are the same as the primitive tribesmen who first came to England by walking overland from France, way back before there was an English Channel. Sadly, this is not the case, because if it was there would be some Helly Hansen tops around in my size.

I ended up going to a less-than-reputable shop in the city centre, where I got a new baselayer t-shirt and a pair of longjohns. I tried the small longjohns on first, and was pretty chuffed when I found out that they hardly fit over my giant calves - yay cycling! So I got medium sizes and took my purchases home. However, when I got back I found that the top - which I had expected to be pretty much the same as my old one - was some ultra-fancy deal. It turns out that both the things I got were in the wrong boxes, and I’d brought a much more expensive top.

It’s cold outside. Riding home tonight, one of my fingertips on my right hand went numb, and when I stopped at the lights my knees were shaking. Over in the West End, the salt hasn’t been put down on the streets, let alone the cyclepaths, and ice is forming.

Last night, I rode through the streets of Newcastle with about fifty other cyclists.

This was part of the Star and Shadow’s Cycling Weekend, where they had organised a Critical Mass. A Critical Mass is part of the Reclaim-the-Streets style of social protest, where activities happen in public places as a reaction against the ‘hemmed-in’ feel of modern public spaces. In the USA, Critical Mass has spread across the major urban centres, and thousands of people take part in regular bicycle events that stop traffic.

In Newcastle, yesterday was either the second or third Critical Mass. It was cold and dark, and I can’t really say that it was a great time for it. Why Friday night? Why not Saturday day? I didn’t really fancy riding around for a while on Friday night, but the German market was on in town and I was starving. Myself and my flatmate Alan rode into town, got some Paella from the market, and met up with the other cyclists.

Me and Alan like to ride fast, and the Critical Mass ride was more of a slow crawl around town. That meant that we quickly found ourselves at the front of a long body of cyclists, taking up a lane of traffic, at the peak time of the day, in a city centre. Of course, there were some aggressive drivers - anybody who cycles sees that every day - and taxi drivers and bus drivers were the worst. But the Critical Mass tactic of taking up the road and riding very slowly doesn’t help to convert other road users.

I suspect that a lot of this is revenge against being treated like a second-class road user. But taking part in the ride made me feel shaken up, as I saw some pretty close shaves, and got pretty close to some cars, not happy and relaxed like riding my bike usually does. And it’s that happy and relaxed vibe that Critical Mass should be trying to share, rather than starting a war against car drivers.