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It’s one of my favourite times of the year again, when the weather department realises it is spring and suddenly we go from freezing cold and rain to sunshine, flowers, and very nearly not a needing a coat. This also means I can ride most of the way to college instead of using the tram, and thus avoid the centre with all its annoyances without getting too muddy.
Most of the route is on routes through the forest and across fields where cars are supposedly not allowed.They are therefore indifferently tarmacked or gravel, and used as a turning circle for tractors ploughing. (The local town once made a big thing about how they employed a sort of park ranger who apart from anything else should keep these roads clean, which gave us all a laugh).
Having mudguards helps of course, as well as an improvised mudflap which is surviving far longer than I dared hope, but it is good to know I can ride through the forest and not hit mud or puddles.
Which made last week just the wrong time for the owners of the local forest to decide to play with their big tractors, and close the routes to Stuttgart so they could mess up all the trails undisturbed. It gave the journey an extra edge of adventure, especially as they only reopened them when they’d made sure there were wheel ruts across the trails wider than some local cycleways.
Just a small reminder that for all the hot air, we don’t really consider bicycles to be a proper form of transport.
Meanwhile, our version of Stuttgart is developing, slowly…
The rest of the world is getting madder and madder, but at least the sun has started to come out.
Whoever invented spiked tyres was a genius.
Riding all the way into Stuttgart is still impossible even with spikes, so the current commute is as far as the nearest tram stop and back. This is only a few kilometres but means that I can at least ride that bit.
The local bus and tram company don’t seem to talk to each other so the bus frequently leaves a minute before the tram arrives. A cold fifteen minute ride is preferable to a freezing twenty minute wait for the bus.
Meanwhile, the mural is progressing:
I have exams looming so blogging will be minimal for a while…
In December our glorious leaders, in the form of the town council, announced that they were introducing a new traffic calming scheme. Finally we are getting a speed limit of 30 km/h (Ca. 20 mph) through the village, instead of 50 km/h (30 mph). This, according to google and my rather wooly maths, will mean it takes 2 minutes 24 second to go through the village, instead of 1 minute 26 seconds. A ‘delay’ of 58 seconds.
Cue howls of protest from local drivers.
This limit will apparently cause chaos. And… and… er… traffic jams, yes, lots of traffic jams… and it’ll cause more of that… oh, what was the word… began with a P… pollution, that was it. Pollution. Because er… slowing cars down means they pollute… more… Yeah: pollution bad. But not bad enough to stop me driving.
Besides. It’s not because of cars. It’s because there are too many Lorries. yes. All the noise and pollution is the fault of the 1300 lorries that drive through the village each day, not the 13000 cars: it’s all the trucks. And what about those busses getting priority at lights? How dare these lesser road users get priority over me? Don’t they realise that as a car user I am a superior being? And of course buses take up too much space as well. Get rid of them.
So what we need is more roads. nice fast roads running around the village so the lorries can go around the village and we can drive in the centre as much as we want. That’ll solve everything. What? The new road will go through a nature reserve. Ah, well, at least the roads in the village will be nice and clear.
After all, building roads for the last fifty years has worked so well for everyone, hasn’t it?
For use in those parts of ‘civilization’ where the Xtracycle may prove just too tempting for thieves and vandals, I have a Commuter Bike, picked up as a very ugly looking mountain bike complete with yellow transfers bearing the name ‘Stampede’.
Wikipedia defines a ‘stampede’ as:
“…uncontrolled concerted running as an act of mass impulse among herd animals or a crowd of people in which the herd (or crowd) collectively begins running, often in an attempt to escape a perceived threat.”
Yes, that sounds just like a bicycle.
Anyway, I bought the bike back in 2012 and did the bare minimum to make it into a basic commuter bike that would present as unattractive a target as possible: I added some scrap mudguards, a stand, V-Brakes, a set of old tyres from the Xtracycle, some elderly lights and the cheapest dynamo I could find.
The bike then got on with its main purpose in life of not being nicked all day at the tram stop while I was at carpentry college. It managed this for two and a half years with no trouble at all, although the front light turned out to be pretty but useless so I changed it before I ran into something, or more likely before something ran into me.
At some point the awful foam handlebars turned back into whatever oil based slime they’d been made of, and needed a replacement quickly, so in desperation I fitted the only handlebar grips I had, which happened to be cork.
Then last week I took it out to see what I’d need to change for the new commute into Stuttgart, and noticed it isn’t looking that ugly anymore.
And now I’m getting attached to the thing and wondering if I could give it some nice bar ends, or maybe at least get rid of those transfers and upgrade the luggage rack to one that doesn’t rattle… but that would defeat the object of having the bike in the first place. It’s there to be ugly, dammit, or at least boring, so it doesn’t get nicked when chained to a lamppost in Stuttgart. Next thing you know I’ll be giving it a name…
Still, if anyone has an idea how to remove garish yellow transfers, please let me know…
During school time the Farm is open Tuesday-Saturday, so from this week my weekend starts tomorrow. Normal blogging servce will be resumed then, with tales of cycle commuting, tractors, goats and flying gates.
In the meantime, and in an effort to keep the blog on subject, here is a picture of the Xtracyle fitting into a bus.
A friend asked me how I managed to commute to the farm and back, given my strange car-free habits. I explained about my original cunning plan, and his face lit up.
“You mean you leave the Xtracycle at the tram stop all day? One set of bolt croppers and I’ve got a new bike…”
This is why I use a bike pulled off a scrap pile…
So, here’s my Den Haag bike looking surprisingly chic and smart considering it was pulled of a rubbish tip and all I’d done was replace the lights. Unfortunately this is a historical view as on day two several zips on the panniers gave way rendering them useless, and meaning I’m back to Sweaty Back Syndrome until I can figure out some kind of replacement.
It is the way of the world that this happened three minutes before I was supposed to leave and catch the tram.
On the other hand, I’m now set up for transport, and this bike is sitting in a garden near the farm ready for me to pick it up when I get off the tram later this morning. At least I hope it is, as I managed to lose my spoke lock key yesterday. Thankfully, being a farm we had a set of heavy-duty bolt croppers, but all that is stopping the criminal fraternity from sloping off with the bike is a hedge hiding it from the street and a piece of chain and a padlock borrowed from one of the barns.
I hope the local bike thieves are not so well equipped…
Yesterday, Beautiful God-daughter -and others- were giving flute recitals, so naturally I went to watch. The Xtracycle can be seen above in the large plaza outside the town arts centre where the performance was held. It is a very tasteful rebuild of an old tram depot.
The tram used to run through here to a couple of other places, including this town. Unfortunately the line was closed in 1978 ‘for economic reasons’ and ‘because we need the space for cars’. Of course. A local group tried to build a museum on the edge of the town but the local government decided to use the space for a petrol station instead.
A walking/cycle way runs along the old tramway, which is a nice thought, but really, we’d have preferred to have the tram.
But the shell of the old tram depot has a few cycle racks in one corner, so that’s sustainable transport covered.
In 1995 a new road bridge was built over the valley, making it easier to drive, walk, and cycle from one side to the other. It was promptly closed to pedestrian & cycle traffic because it was ‘unsafe’, so schoolchildren now have to be driven by their parents or take the bus.
And the town centres on both sides are crammed full of cars.
So now the local governments are looking at plans to possibly, maybe, build a new tramway and/or railway running along a similar route, at a cost of millions of Euros…
More importantly, Beautiful God-daughter was awesome…
“The least fit ten-year-old English child from a class of 30 in 1998 would be one of the five fittest children in the same class tested today.”
From the always interesting No Tech Magazine. link to full article here: http://www.notechmagazine.com/2015/06/the-inactivity-pandemic.html
If ony there was a simple and inexpensive way to change that.
the last two weeks were mostly spent chasing offices and forms, which frankly make for rubbish blogging. We’ve been advised that it would be good for us to change the status of Beautiful Wife’s music tutoring to ‘self employed’, and at the same time we were sorting out various forms for different things we are trying to do. At one point I went down the hill and back up again only to end up with a grumpy ‘assistant’ who didn’t. In fact, so bad was his ‘assistance’ that I had to go back down and up the next day, and the day after that, each time with a separate bale of forms and supporting documents. Still it’s a free work out…
In the middle of this we got our passport application for Middle Son and Beautiful Daughter back from the British Consulate, and found that not only had they changed address but they had also stopped processing passports so our application now has to be sent to Liverpool and all our documentation has to be translated from German to English and other things need explaining with covering letters*, and oh, by the way the UK doesn’t use the EU standard for biometric passport photos (Of course it doesn’t, it’s not like the UK is in Europe or anything) so we had to go to a specialist photographers in the middle of Stuttgart.
In the middle of this, quite by accident, we found a letter from the local government saying Beautiful Daughter has German citizenship, so we now have to find out what that means, probably that she has three passports…
Told you it made for rubbish blogging…
*This would seem to be the point of having a passport office in the embassy, so that the staff know the local situation, but that means dealing with foreign people and spending money.