Proper winter weather in London this morning -- gritting lorries out, ice on car windscreens and barely warming up on the six miles to work. Our Summer visitors -- the hordes of fair-weather cyclists, seem finally to have taken the hint. The number of bikes on the road today was about a quarter what it was two or three months ago.
I know we're supposed to be pleased when bike use rises, but I can't help thinking that it's not always a positive thing. It may make other road users more aware of bikes; or it may just annoy them even more. And some of our Summer bretheren do themselves -- and us -- no favours.
I'm not sure who I dislike more: the ones who just sail through red lights as if they're exempt from traffic laws; or those who stop at the lights, but force their way past you to the front of the queue then delay everyone by wobbling off at barely walking pace.
My favourites are those well-bred young women -- my commuting route takes me through Sloane Square and Knightsbridge -- who carve through the traffic on shopping bikes, wearing flip-flops and floral dresses. They combine impressive straight-line speed with a recklessness more suited to the last 100 metres of a Tour stage sprint finish. It's like watching Djamolidine Abdoujaparov, but dressed from the Boden catalogue.
If we could get some of them into GB kit and swap their Pashley's for a decent track bike, they'd give Vicky Pendleton a run for her money.
Anyway, the onset of cold weather has sent them back to the Picadilly Line and their 4X4's, leaving the roads to the grumpy hardcore.
If you're still out there, chapeau, take care and make the most of it -- it's the Winter Solstice in a week or so, and it's all downhill from then on.
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