Lies, damned lies, and cycle helmets
I've just been moved to write to the British Medical Association, a thing which doesn't often happen. The BMA had a critical role to play in the recent campaign to make cycle helmets compulsory in the United Kingdom; they have long had a well thought out policy on cycle helmets — on the whole favouring them, but aware of the ambiguous nature of the evidence in favour of them and siding against compulsion. Their position helped persuade MPs not to vote for compulsion. It seems the pro-compulsionists have seen the BMA as a key target to convert, and recent press releases have announced a policy change, apparently by fiat at the top. The papers the BMA have published in support of their new policies are masterpieces of dishonesty and sloppy thinking. So here is my first, brief, critique, as expressed in an email to parliamentaryunit@bma.org.uk, the address they cite for comments.
My attention has been drawn to your web pages published at URL:[http://www.bma.org.uk/ap.nsf/Content/Cyclhelmet](http://www.bma.org.uk/ap.nsf/Content/Cyclhelmet) and URL:[http://www.bma.org.uk/ap.nsf/Content/Cyclehealth](http://www.bma.org.uk/ap.nsf/Content/Cyclehealth).
In the first you quote: "Each year over 50 people aged 15 years and under are killed by cycling accidents, with 70-80 per cent of these resulting from traumatic brain injury."
This United Satrapy
Sometimes some things make one more angry than it is easy to express. This morning I am faced with one of these.
The issue
First, a bit of background. There is an organisation called 'indymedia'; it is a journalists collective, which reports stories not generally covered by the mainstream press, specifically including reporting on the demonstrations at G8 summits and such things. On October 7th this year, officers of the United States of America's Federal Bureau of Investigations, acting on behalf of the Italian Government, entered RackSpace's supposedly secure colocation facility in London and removed two servers belonging to indymedia.
My longbow
This week I have been mostly making a longbow. Yes, that's the one I made, in the picture. What? Show-off? Moi?
At this time of year, for the past several years, we (where for these purposes 'we' is Southwest Community Woodlands Trust) have put on courses on making this or that out of the products of the forest, and this autumn one of the things we'd decided to make was longbows. And as soon as the idea was mooted I thought I definitely wanted to give that a go. In the way of things, somebody knew a bowyer, a man called Dave Cotterill, who turned out to be a gentle, competent man and a most excellent teacher.
Journey to the Roof of the World
The longest continuous climb in Britain, according to a website which categorises european cycling climbs, is up Mennock Water to Wanlockhead and thence up to the radio mast on the Green Lowther. We did not do that climb today...
Sometime last week Big Dougie phoned up and asked if I fancied a ride up to Wanlockhead, saying he and Andrew were planning to do the run today, both being off work. I swithered. I did want to do the run. I thought it would be a good test of both me and the bike. But I also seriously doubted whether I was fit for it. Eventually at yesterday's club run (Dalbeattie Forest, bits of Red Route and bits of mucking around — great fun) I committed to going. So at 9.45 this morning Dougie's van rolled up at my front door, we loaded the Dolan in, and set of for Andrew's house in Dumfries. At twenty past ten we rolled out from Andrew's house, heading north. Big Dougie, the time trial animal, also known locally as 'the bus'; Andrew, former Scottish Junior Champion; and me, who am at best a leisure cyclist, and who had never taken part in any organised ride before this year. Ooops.
Fit the first: To the Birthplace of the Bicycle
My first time trial
I'm not really a club sort of person — I'm much too shy and solitary in real life — and I'm certainly not a competitive person. So I've never been in a cycle club before, and I've certainly never cycled competitively. But a few weeks ago a cycling friend dropped by and told me about a proposal for a new local cycling club, and a few days later Janet at my LBS told me about it as well, so this time last week I went along to an inaugural meeting at which about twenty people turned up.
At that meeting we agreed that to kick things off we'd do a club run every Sunday, and a time trial every Wednesday evening as long as the light held — which won't be long with the equinox approaching. On Sunday about twenty people turned up for a very pleasant run up round Balmaghie and Laurieston.
And tonight was the time trial. Juliette and I left the house together, she on her Juliana and my on my Dolan. Juliette wasn't going to time trial — she's even more unclubable than me — but we rode together out to Douganhill through the most gorgeous evening, sun blazing through every gap in the ridge, sky clear deep blue, wind more or less still. At Douganhill Juliette pealed off, and I carried on. Within a few hundred yards I saw another rider ahead, and so I started to chase — not too seriously, because I didn't want to use up my legs too soon.