The fixed gear diaries

Time to get up off the Chesterfield. Little look through the wooden blinds. Outside is still light. Huh. Oh yeah, the clocks went forward. Gym attire on. Time to go - time to get gone. Late, balmy spring air greets me as I step out with my bike in tow. Mounted and slowly I ride to the edge of the street. Right then left. Then repeat. Yes. The inviting gap and I'm off across the road onto the adjacent street. Bombay bicycle club. Music of choice. It's a been a while. Left and up the hill. Peddle with speed.

 

Thoughts of the burgeoning new season. Ideas and possibilities. New ventures and experiences. Lights. Green, continue to go at pace. Action. Heart beginning to beat due to the exertion. Familiar curious looks at the fixie. Love this smell in the air. The gradual soft closing colours of the evening. Casually reclining at its leisure. All to my appreciation, enhancing the cycling pleasure as I peddle that bit faster than normal. Clear run. Looking around. Left, right. 

The Casio says it's night but because we have entered spring it's still pretty bright. Cool. Fresh. As I ride the spectre of winter is getting left behind. Into the city. Familiar sights. Students walking along. Love this Bombay album. This particular song. Suits the journey. Sharp right. Along a sparse bike lane. The bike lanes in this city are a disgrace. Awful. Lame. Copenhagen was defiantly not like this. If only Liverpool cared about us cyclists. Such a shame. Look where you're walking you dopey pedestrian - do you want me to knock you over. Jeez.

 

Sharp left. A gathering of cars approaching more lights. In through a svelte gap. Narrow handle bars allow me to do so. The road opens up and it's a great view. Steep, downward hill. Head down. Back hunched over. Concentrated. Whizzing down at speed. What a thrill. Time to slow it a bit. Get better control. D'Angelo style. Crusin'. Looking at various faces. Noticing me. Doors potentially opening, being ready to move. Steer away. Alert as the usual busy road looms. It's actually quite empty at my time of arrival. Just how I like it. Across with minimal fuss. Bike lock ups are waiting. Draw to a stop. One bike already here. Not bad at all. A few glances. Lock up the fixie. Close my Kanken packpack and head for the building. The city backdrop of artificial lights are beginning to come to life, cars and traffic moving along as I walk through the glass doors into the gymnasium...

Demola, TCC