“How far have you come?” - my first ride to the office
I woke up before the alarm went off. You know how it is, when you know you have to be up early, and so endure a fitful night’s sleep, worrying you won’t wake when you need to!
I didn’t realise until I looked at my ‘phone, just how fortuitous that was. My train was already showing as late leaving St Pancras… but so was the one before, which was doing sufficiently badly, that I reckoned I might just make it.
Tearing round the house as quietly as a could, I grabbed my carefully-prepared rucksack, remembering to throw in the pair of socks I forgot the day before yesterday, and disappeared out of the door. A clear, cool morning met me as I zipped through a town centre yet to rub the its eyes to greet the new day, and arrived on the platform with time to spare. Ironically, the train turned up at just the time I would like there to be one - in the middle of a half-hour-or-so gap in the timetable. a journey which runs less frequently than the duration of the trip, can often feel awkward in that way, if it doesn’t land right - and in my case I wasn’t sure how well I’d do for time, at the first eastbound attempt.
Against the odds given the lack of a designated space for the time being, taking the bike on the train was once more no bother at all - plenty of space and few punters. I think I had the coach to myself once more, in fact. The joys of travelling counter-peak, no doubt. I did muse however, as I awaited my helpfully-delayed train (signal failure somewhere at the London end, I think), on the desirability, or lack of it, of leaving one’s steed at the station, where the car park doesn’t feature signs essentially telling you your car’s likely to get nicked but as Reverend Richard Coles will tell you, the security of bicycles left for the day, is not the greatest. The bike parking at Wellingborough isn’t the finest, and lacking any sort of overlooking, I wouldn’t hurry to leave any of my bikes locked up there - at which being able to keep it with me on my journey, becomes all the more important. It does pose a fair question, though, about how we prioritise use of space; there are a number of places where even the ubiquitous Sheffield stands would be rendered more secure by being better sited with greater overlooking; indeed, the goods shed, recently revitalised to provide a safe walking route alongside platform 1, could make a really good under cover cycle parking facility, with CCTV, lockers and communal tools to enhance the experience. Maybe, in the new world of ‘Great British Railways’, we will see LTN 01/20’s walking and cycling provision meld with a standardised offering for transport interchanges, in the way we experienced ‘OV-Fiets’ in the Netherlands.
Anyway, my train arrived and I made the best of the mobile signal to have a look at my diary and emails, to get ahead of the day, at which I could start to process my workload subconsciously on my way in. Very definitely something I couldn’t do in the car! Sure enough, a few minutes later and I was pulling my snood off my face, ready to crack on. Heading East, with the prevailing wind, and on the favourable end of the ruling gradient, I was interested to see how much I’d be able to improve on my westbound time.
As I left the station, once more struck by the dearth of joined-up routes and signage for people leaving the station, and not in cars, I found the urban dual carriageway sufficiently empty that I decided once again not to bother with the appalling cycle path I’d scouted out at the weekend, at which my secateurs again remained in my bag! Indeed, I rattled off the miles and very unlike my normal road riding, was still exceeding a 20mph average after more than half an hour in the saddle. I was shifting! A couple of close passes but the roads were generally quiet, and although determined not to stop, I did afford myself a few moments to sit up and drink in the sights, sounds and smells (ok, rather less of the latter) of the rural idyll through which much of my ride passed.
The best news of all was that, knocking 15 minutes off the time from the other night, for less effort, I discovered that my ride in was more comfortable than I might have imagined - and of course, in this direction, I am not at risk of missing a train at the end of my ride, thereby delaying my arrival, and whilst the actual experience can wait for another day, suffice to say that I did better, once I was past the signs welcoming me to the city, than most of the motor traffic I ‘shared’ (not really, they begrudged it most of the time and made that clear) with motorists. I rolled into the car park just at the right moment to greet my boss, locked up and headed into the office.
“How far have you come?” asked one of my colleagues. Such a loaded question, second only to “Where are you riding to”! Whether asked by a stranger serving you a ‘no petrol, that IS my fuel’ sandwich in a BP garage, neighbours on a campsite, or (worst still) another cyclist whilst out on the road, I think it’s impossible to answer that question without taking a split second to wonder how the answer will be received. I’d ridden 25 miles - and I possibly looked like it. The road had been less than dry in places, and a little muddy. This was received with a degree of incredulity, followed by expressions of respect probably in excess of what I felt I’d earned! It amuses me a bit, how exciting my commute seemed to others - but then, in the first instance it probably speaks not only to the rarity of the event, but to the fact that I realised my ride in was worth talking about! I never arrive at my desk having driven in, with anything to say about my hour in the car, and nobody would expect me to. I hope that in time, I might encourage a few more folk to ride in - even if over more modest distances.
Riding the bike is the easy bit, to me at least, compared to the logistics, and I headed off for a rapid shower (I will write about workplace showers I have known, another day!), trying hard to remember what was where, and to not bury my door pass, phones, and the like, in my cycling kit, and sat down to my laptop (much missed during my day at home the day before, but too hefty to carry comfortably on my back) feeling fresher than usual, despite the earlier start. So far, so good - but my goodness, I have a lot of things to take home in the car, now! Towel and clothes to wash. Food containers. I’ve already ended up with a spare pair of shoes in my locker, and realised that my preferred fountain pen has been left at home. An eventful morning, then, before I’d even started my working day, but I can honestly say, one which had done me, on balance, a power of good - maybe I’d come further than I thought, after all those weeks of not-quite-doing-it. Anyway, time to crack on with the day job…