Things I've learnt from commuting

[Velouria]

I've been riding bikes in some shape or form for the last 35 years, and yet none of that had prepared me for what happened yesterday.

 

On my usual commute from Stellenbosch to Somerset West, a route that Strava says I have ridden 462 times, I was to experience a unique life event.

 

But this story doesn't start with my ride home - it starts with my ride to work. Just another day out on the bike, trying to stay alive, and at the same time enjoy the freedom of riding a bike, when I see a fellow bike rider with his bike upside down. (This sets of alarms bells - I judge cyclists who turn their bikes upside down rather poorly). Anyway, I slow down and ask if everything is ok (secretly hoping that everything is, and I can just get back on with my selfish commute). But no. Everything is not ok.

 

It's then that I notice that there is another rider stopped too. A mountain biker (the victim is a roadie). And the situation looks dire. There are tools spread all over the place, and two sets of rather dirty hands. But only one tube. A tube that apparently deflates almost instantly. It's then that the excuses start flying. Spares have been left at home, and this is the first time it has ever happened blah blah blah. By this time I'm starting to realise that everything is not ok, and that I am going to have to part with my beautiful Conti long valved tube. Rather begrudgingly, I get my beloved spare tube out, and hand it over, while at the same time thinking about contingency plans should I now puncture.

 

Relief is written all over the roadie's face, and I can see the MTBer breathing a sigh of relief too as he's off the hook with having to patch a tube. Pleasantries are exchanged, and the roadie asks me where I work so he can return the tube (not the first time I have heard this). Not actually expecting to ever see my Conti tube ever again, I just tell the roadie to pay it forward. Help out some other desperate soul. But he's insistant. So I give him my work address and head off, slightly annoyed at losing a tube, and more annoyed at having add 5 minutes to my commute.

 

The day passes by, the action in the Giro banishing all thoughts of the Conti tube, when a guy walks into my office with a tube in hand. A Conti tube. The roadie from this morning - without his helmet on I didn't recognise him (thank goodness for the tube!). My faith in my fellow cyclists is slightly restored, and I can now forget about the Uber I was planning to call should I have a puncture on the way home.

 

So - back to the commute home.

 

I'm riding along, listening to music (don't judge me), and about to start climbing the aptly named Kotsbult when I hear a noise behind me. It sounds like a car with it's engine about to explode out of the bonnet. Nothing I haven't heard before. But the noise continues to get louder and louder, and I'm now getting worried that it is in fact in the process of exploding, when a bakkie come past me. And sparks. Like it's on fire. But not from the engine. The sparks are coming from the left rear wheel. Not wanting to get caught in the spark shower, I move over to the left, hugging the armco, while thinking that the bakkie is riding on the rim because he doesn't have a spare and he has places to go. Each to their own. Still - not something you see everyday. And I am about to continue on my commute home.

 

When a f*****g wheel come bouncing past me up the hill, literally 30cms to my right, and on the line I was riding not 5 seconds previously. And it seemed to be catching the bakkie - doing at least 60km/h. Just as it passed me (and I almost had a Tommy D moment, but without the luxury of taking my bibs off), it veered to the left, smacked the armco, and then bounced into traffic, causing chaos. By this time, two of the guys on the back of the bakkie had hopped off, and were chasing the deviant wheel up the hill, in traffic.

 

And I was completely frozen. My brain just couldn't handle this spectacle. I can anticipate with drivers who jump stop streets, and cars that turn in front me, but nothing in 35 years of cycling had prepared me for an attack by a crazy wheel!

 

Thank goodness I gave that tube to the roadie that morning. Karma certainly was smiling on me!

[Andrew_Smith]

I've been riding bikes in some shape or form for the last 35 years, and yet none of that had prepared me for what happened yesterday.

 

On my usual commute from Stellenbosch to Somerset West, a route that Strava says I have ridden 462 times, I was to experience a unique life event.

 

But this story doesn't start with my ride home - it starts with my ride to work. Just another day out on the bike, trying to stay alive, and at the same time enjoy the freedom of riding a bike, when I see a fellow bike rider with his bike upside down. (This sets of alarms bells - I judge cyclists who turn their bikes upside down rather poorly). Anyway, I slow down and ask if everything is ok (secretly hoping that everything is, and I can just get back on with my selfish commute). But no. Everything is not ok.

 

It's then that I notice that there is another rider stopped too. A mountain biker (the victim is a roadie). And the situation looks dire. There are tools spread all over the place, and two sets of rather dirty hands. But only one tube. A tube that apparently deflates almost instantly. It's then that the excuses start flying. Spares have been left at home, and this is the first time it has ever happened blah blah blah. By this time I'm starting to realise that everything is not ok, and that I am going to have to part with my beautiful Conti long valved tube. Rather begrudgingly, I get my beloved spare tube out, and hand it over, while at the same time thinking about contingency plans should I now puncture.

 

Relief is written all over the roadie's face, and I can see the MTBer breathing a sigh of relief too as he's off the hook with having to patch a tube. Pleasantries are exchanged, and the roadie asks me where I work so he can return the tube (not the first time I have heard this). Not actually expecting to ever see my Conti tube ever again, I just tell the roadie to pay it forward. Help out some other desperate soul. But he's insistant. So I give him my work address and head off, slightly annoyed at losing a tube, and more annoyed at having add 5 minutes to my commute.

 

The day passes by, the action in the Giro banishing all thoughts of the Conti tube, when a guy walks into my office with a tube in hand. A Conti tube. The roadie from this morning - without his helmet on I didn't recognise him (thank goodness for the tube!). My faith in my fellow cyclists is slightly restored, and I can now forget about the Uber I was planning to call should I have a puncture on the way home.

 

So - back to the commute home.

 

I'm riding along, listening to music (don't judge me), and about to start climbing the aptly named Kotsbult when I hear a noise behind me. It sounds like a car with it's engine about to explode out of the bonnet. Nothing I haven't heard before. But the noise continues to get louder and louder, and I'm now getting worried that it is in fact in the process of exploding, when a bakkie come past me. And sparks. Like it's on fire. But not from the engine. The sparks are coming from the left rear wheel. Not wanting to get caught in the spark shower, I move over to the left, hugging the armco, while thinking that the bakkie is riding on the rim because he doesn't have a spare and he has places to go. Each to their own. Still - not something you see everyday. And I am about to continue on my commute home.

 

When a f*****g wheel come bouncing past me up the hill, literally 30cms to my right, and on the line I was riding not 5 seconds previously. And it seemed to be catching the bakkie - doing at least 60km/h. Just as it passed me (and I almost had a Tommy D moment, but without the luxury of taking my bibs off), it veered to the left, smacked the armco, and then bounced into traffic, causing chaos. By this time, two of the guys on the back of the bakkie had hopped off, and were chasing the deviant wheel up the hill, in traffic.

 

And I was completely frozen. My brain just couldn't handle this spectacle. I can anticipate with drivers who jump stop streets, and cars that turn in front me, but nothing in 35 years of cycling had prepared me for an attack by a crazy wheel!

 

Thank goodness I gave that tube to the roadie that morning. Karma certainly was smiling on me!

 

That ending was so crazy, sounds like something that can only happen in your dreams! Wow, insane stuff.

[Bateleur1]

I've been riding bikes in some shape or form for the last 35 years, and yet none of that had prepared me for what happened yesterday.

 

On my usual commute from Stellenbosch to Somerset West, a route that Strava says I have ridden 462 times, I was to experience a unique life event.

 

But this story doesn't start with my ride home - it starts with my ride to work. Just another day out on the bike, trying to stay alive, and at the same time enjoy the freedom of riding a bike, when I see a fellow bike rider with his bike upside down. (This sets of alarms bells - I judge cyclists who turn their bikes upside down rather poorly). Anyway, I slow down and ask if everything is ok (secretly hoping that everything is, and I can just get back on with my selfish commute). But no. Everything is not ok.

 

It's then that I notice that there is another rider stopped too. A mountain biker (the victim is a roadie). And the situation looks dire. There are tools spread all over the place, and two sets of rather dirty hands. But only one tube. A tube that apparently deflates almost instantly. It's then that the excuses start flying. Spares have been left at home, and this is the first time it has ever happened blah blah blah. By this time I'm starting to realise that everything is not ok, and that I am going to have to part with my beautiful Conti long valved tube. Rather begrudgingly, I get my beloved spare tube out, and hand it over, while at the same time thinking about contingency plans should I now puncture.

 

Relief is written all over the roadie's face, and I can see the MTBer breathing a sigh of relief too as he's off the hook with having to patch a tube. Pleasantries are exchanged, and the roadie asks me where I work so he can return the tube (not the first time I have heard this). Not actually expecting to ever see my Conti tube ever again, I just tell the roadie to pay it forward. Help out some other desperate soul. But he's insistant. So I give him my work address and head off, slightly annoyed at losing a tube, and more annoyed at having add 5 minutes to my commute.

 

The day passes by, the action in the Giro banishing all thoughts of the Conti tube, when a guy walks into my office with a tube in hand. A Conti tube. The roadie from this morning - without his helmet on I didn't recognise him (thank goodness for the tube!). My faith in my fellow cyclists is slightly restored, and I can now forget about the Uber I was planning to call should I have a puncture on the way home.

 

So - back to the commute home.

 

I'm riding along, listening to music (don't judge me), and about to start climbing the aptly named Kotsbult when I hear a noise behind me. It sounds like a car with it's engine about to explode out of the bonnet. Nothing I haven't heard before. But the noise continues to get louder and louder, and I'm now getting worried that it is in fact in the process of exploding, when a bakkie come past me. And sparks. Like it's on fire. But not from the engine. The sparks are coming from the left rear wheel. Not wanting to get caught in the spark shower, I move over to the left, hugging the armco, while thinking that the bakkie is riding on the rim because he doesn't have a spare and he has places to go. Each to their own. Still - not something you see everyday. And I am about to continue on my commute home.

 

When a f*****g wheel come bouncing past me up the hill, literally 30cms to my right, and on the line I was riding not 5 seconds previously. And it seemed to be catching the bakkie - doing at least 60km/h. Just as it passed me (and I almost had a Tommy D moment, but without the luxury of taking my bibs off), it veered to the left, smacked the armco, and then bounced into traffic, causing chaos. By this time, two of the guys on the back of the bakkie had hopped off, and were chasing the deviant wheel up the hill, in traffic.

 

And I was completely frozen. My brain just couldn't handle this spectacle. I can anticipate with drivers who jump stop streets, and cars that turn in front me, but nothing in 35 years of cycling had prepared me for an attack by a crazy wheel!

 

Thank goodness I gave that tube to the roadie that morning. Karma certainly was smiling on me!

 

Yip that is a commute to remember.  

 

Reminds me on our one trip back from the Krugerpark to Pretoria.  Father-in-law was towing a caravan and myself and my wife driving with our car behind him, when somewhere on the road towards White river the caravan drifted slightly off the road with the left wheel momentarily going off the tar and hitting the rough edge before getting back onto the tar.  Enough shaking to knock off the wheel cap to go on its own little scenic lowveld tour right pass the noses of two ladies waiting for a taxi.  I stopped to quickly retrieve the wheel cap now hanging in some bushes next to the road.  As I got it I noticed the look on the two ladies.  Their eyes were bigger than the wheel cap.

[Vetplant]

I've been riding bikes in some shape or form for the last 35 years, and yet none of that had prepared me for what happened yesterday.

 

On my usual commute from Stellenbosch to Somerset West, a route that Strava says I have ridden 462 times, I was to experience a unique life event.

 

But this story doesn't start with my ride home - it starts with my ride to work. Just another day out on the bike, trying to stay alive, and at the same time enjoy the freedom of riding a bike, when I see a fellow bike rider with his bike upside down. (This sets of alarms bells - I judge cyclists who turn their bikes upside down rather poorly). Anyway, I slow down and ask if everything is ok (secretly hoping that everything is, and I can just get back on with my selfish commute). But no. Everything is not ok.

 

It's then that I notice that there is another rider stopped too. A mountain biker (the victim is a roadie). And the situation looks dire. There are tools spread all over the place, and two sets of rather dirty hands. But only one tube. A tube that apparently deflates almost instantly. It's then that the excuses start flying. Spares have been left at home, and this is the first time it has ever happened blah blah blah. By this time I'm starting to realise that everything is not ok, and that I am going to have to part with my beautiful Conti long valved tube. Rather begrudgingly, I get my beloved spare tube out, and hand it over, while at the same time thinking about contingency plans should I now puncture.

 

Relief is written all over the roadie's face, and I can see the MTBer breathing a sigh of relief too as he's off the hook with having to patch a tube. Pleasantries are exchanged, and the roadie asks me where I work so he can return the tube (not the first time I have heard this). Not actually expecting to ever see my Conti tube ever again, I just tell the roadie to pay it forward. Help out some other desperate soul. But he's insistant. So I give him my work address and head off, slightly annoyed at losing a tube, and more annoyed at having add 5 minutes to my commute.

 

The day passes by, the action in the Giro banishing all thoughts of the Conti tube, when a guy walks into my office with a tube in hand. A Conti tube. The roadie from this morning - without his helmet on I didn't recognise him (thank goodness for the tube!). My faith in my fellow cyclists is slightly restored, and I can now forget about the Uber I was planning to call should I have a puncture on the way home.

 

So - back to the commute home.

 

I'm riding along, listening to music (don't judge me), and about to start climbing the aptly named Kotsbult when I hear a noise behind me. It sounds like a car with it's engine about to explode out of the bonnet. Nothing I haven't heard before. But the noise continues to get louder and louder, and I'm now getting worried that it is in fact in the process of exploding, when a bakkie come past me. And sparks. Like it's on fire. But not from the engine. The sparks are coming from the left rear wheel. Not wanting to get caught in the spark shower, I move over to the left, hugging the armco, while thinking that the bakkie is riding on the rim because he doesn't have a spare and he has places to go. Each to their own. Still - not something you see everyday. And I am about to continue on my commute home.

 

When a f*****g wheel come bouncing past me up the hill, literally 30cms to my right, and on the line I was riding not 5 seconds previously. And it seemed to be catching the bakkie - doing at least 60km/h. Just as it passed me (and I almost had a Tommy D moment, but without the luxury of taking my bibs off), it veered to the left, smacked the armco, and then bounced into traffic, causing chaos. By this time, two of the guys on the back of the bakkie had hopped off, and were chasing the deviant wheel up the hill, in traffic.

 

And I was completely frozen. My brain just couldn't handle this spectacle. I can anticipate with drivers who jump stop streets, and cars that turn in front me, but nothing in 35 years of cycling had prepared me for an attack by a crazy wheel!

 

Thank goodness I gave that tube to the roadie that morning. Karma certainly was smiling on me!

HEC-TIC!

[lechatnoir]

Thank goodness I gave that tube to the roadie that morning. Karma certainly was smiling on me!

 

Lekker read thanks! And big kudos to the returner of your tube!

[Allrounder]

I've been riding bikes in some shape or form for the last 35 years, and yet none of that had prepared me for what happened yesterday.

 

On my usual commute from Stellenbosch to Somerset West, a route that Strava says I have ridden 462 times, I was to experience a unique life event.

 

But this story doesn't start with my ride home - it starts with my ride to work. Just another day out on the bike, trying to stay alive, and at the same time enjoy the freedom of riding a bike, when I see a fellow bike rider with his bike upside down. (This sets of alarms bells - I judge cyclists who turn their bikes upside down rather poorly). Anyway, I slow down and ask if everything is ok (secretly hoping that everything is, and I can just get back on with my selfish commute). But no. Everything is not ok.

 

It's then that I notice that there is another rider stopped too. A mountain biker (the victim is a roadie). And the situation looks dire. There are tools spread all over the place, and two sets of rather dirty hands. But only one tube. A tube that apparently deflates almost instantly. It's then that the excuses start flying. Spares have been left at home, and this is the first time it has ever happened blah blah blah. By this time I'm starting to realise that everything is not ok, and that I am going to have to part with my beautiful Conti long valved tube. Rather begrudgingly, I get my beloved spare tube out, and hand it over, while at the same time thinking about contingency plans should I now puncture.

 

Relief is written all over the roadie's face, and I can see the MTBer breathing a sigh of relief too as he's off the hook with having to patch a tube. Pleasantries are exchanged, and the roadie asks me where I work so he can return the tube (not the first time I have heard this). Not actually expecting to ever see my Conti tube ever again, I just tell the roadie to pay it forward. Help out some other desperate soul. But he's insistant. So I give him my work address and head off, slightly annoyed at losing a tube, and more annoyed at having add 5 minutes to my commute.

 

The day passes by, the action in the Giro banishing all thoughts of the Conti tube, when a guy walks into my office with a tube in hand. A Conti tube. The roadie from this morning - without his helmet on I didn't recognise him (thank goodness for the tube!). My faith in my fellow cyclists is slightly restored, and I can now forget about the Uber I was planning to call should I have a puncture on the way home.

 

So - back to the commute home.

 

I'm riding along, listening to music (don't judge me), and about to start climbing the aptly named Kotsbult when I hear a noise behind me. It sounds like a car with it's engine about to explode out of the bonnet. Nothing I haven't heard before. But the noise continues to get louder and louder, and I'm now getting worried that it is in fact in the process of exploding, when a bakkie come past me. And sparks. Like it's on fire. But not from the engine. The sparks are coming from the left rear wheel. Not wanting to get caught in the spark shower, I move over to the left, hugging the armco, while thinking that the bakkie is riding on the rim because he doesn't have a spare and he has places to go. Each to their own. Still - not something you see everyday. And I am about to continue on my commute home.

 

When a f*****g wheel come bouncing past me up the hill, literally 30cms to my right, and on the line I was riding not 5 seconds previously. And it seemed to be catching the bakkie - doing at least 60km/h. Just as it passed me (and I almost had a Tommy D moment, but without the luxury of taking my bibs off), it veered to the left, smacked the armco, and then bounced into traffic, causing chaos. By this time, two of the guys on the back of the bakkie had hopped off, and were chasing the deviant wheel up the hill, in traffic.

 

And I was completely frozen. My brain just couldn't handle this spectacle. I can anticipate with drivers who jump stop streets, and cars that turn in front me, but nothing in 35 years of cycling had prepared me for an attack by a crazy wheel!

 

Thank goodness I gave that tube to the roadie that morning. Karma certainly was smiling on me!

Glad you made it without injuries

[ChrisF]

WOW !

 

Pay it forward ...  

 

GLAD you escaped that tire !!

[Sitting slip]

3 weeks in my Mumbai commutes and it all seemed fairy easy but intense. humidity in the 90's and 35 degrees at my 3 pm commute home with a warm as hell wind. that is the easy part.

 

the we get ricshas or better know as tuk-tuk"s they make rush hour taxi in joburg look like the safest cars on the road to cyclist. if one is not trying to rush to close your gap, the other is riding with you on the side walk. some let you hold on and others think you are the ghost in the holy cow's you must keep an eye out for. 

 

the buses here here don't play games here as well. the more people on your vehicle the more power. 

soccer moms in big X5 still suck ass at driving and there are a few around here in Mumbai.

 

all and all(shaking my head like they do) if you cant jump,manual or skid here you will struggle.

its great fun. videos on there way.

[Sitting slip]

[Bateleur1]

 

Not for me thank you 

[Sitting slip]

Not for me thank you 

going single speed on my bike gears not needed here. the GF is coming over and bringing me my Formula R1 spair brakes. 

[BSG]

Traffic is crazy over there

 

Sent from my D5803 using Tapatalk

[Hairy]

 

 

Not for me thank you 

 

 

Traffic is crazy over there

 

Sent from my D5803 using Tapatalk

pppffftttt .... nothing compared to the SUV driving parents outside the school I need to pass to and back from work.

[Bateleur1]

pppffftttt .... nothing compared to the SUV driving parents outside the school I need to pass to and back from work.

 

True, passing schools in the morning was always a high risk moment and had quite a few close calls then.

[Imploder]

The most dangerous time on a commute? Those five or so seconds as you approach an intersection and the car on the opposite side is waiting to turn right. There's always that split second where they think they'll be able to make it before you cross the intersection.....

[Bateleur1]

The most dangerous time on a commute? Those five or so seconds as you approach an intersection and the car on the opposite side is waiting to turn right. There's always that split second where they think they'll be able to make it before you cross the intersection.....

 

And he looks you in the eye and you have no idea what he/she is planning.  Worse than someone that seems not to notice you.