Uncivilised Pleasures
by Carvel Lonsdale

Going to work is a routine of my cycling: into the warm gear, down for breakfast, kiss the family goodbye, bike out of the garage. Then War. It's a road bike, so it's a road war. Cars, buses, lorries all fighting for space in that envelope of time before work which imbues panic and rush. I must say some days are better than others. My departure time is fairly consistent and my battle plan involves waving, smiling and giving a thumbs up to those who are kind enough not to try and kill me.

It works, believe me. You become known as a person, not just as an inconvenience. The trouble is that as we flow together on the arteries of the town there is always the unexpected viral car commuter; the one who still sees me as 'not paying road tax' or simply just doesn't see me. I've had bad times with both. One particularly infected day brought me home with a bad case of unresolved aggression. There must be a better way.

A little thought and advice brought me the perfect solution.

Same routine in the morning, though as the hand reaches for the commuting bike it takes hold of no skinny-tyred road racer, but a fat-tyred, wide-barred singlespeed. Only a quarter of a mile on the road and then off into the woods to be delivered by some miracle to my workplace. It was absolutely fantastic, bits I couldn't ride which would give me something to aim for: a river crossing, wildlife, early morning mists hovering over still water. I was arriving at work on a spiritual high. The return journey presented a whole new set of challenges in reverse. Why hadn't I done this before? I'd fallen into the commuter car trap and been blind to the possibility of alternatives. For years I'd been pursuing the fastest possible journey to work through slicker tyres and had overlooked the value of the journey itself.

I can't tell you how much longer it now takes me to get to work because I haven't bothered to time it. The only near miss has been with a deer. The quality of the experience has improved dramatically. When I have to ride the road to work the effect is noticeable. There's less urgency in my pedals. I remain calmer. I have more sympathy for those unfortunate enough to be trapped by time and troubled tantrums. Tomorrow I will again slip unseen between the tarmac roads which hide such uncivilised pleasures and muse upon the thought that the essential points of travelling remain invisible to cars.

© Carvel Lonsdale