Liz Bacon
Everyone’s an adult until their bike-chain falls off
Anything up to 20 minutes on a bike is the closest physical sensation to freedom that I can rely upon with any regularity/predictability
Anything above 30 minutes is exercise and therefore inherently unpleasant
The ten minutes between is no (wo)man’s land
I feel my ancestry most acutely on a bike
I know I’ve still got thrush when I actively seek routes with cobble stones and other uneven surfaces
I spend most of my bike journeys imagining ways in which I might die
At least once a day I recall the final scene from ‘One Day’
I can’t signal left because of bad balance
I signal right with real vigour to compensate for my left
I fall off at least once a month, always from standing still, mainly at traffic lights
Standing still generates a false sense of safety
I wish I did not so desperately need a helmet
I need my two feet to touch the ground, completely, even if it fucks with the ergonomics of pedalling
I still don’t really understand which way the traffic comes from
I shouted at a man in a car today, and remarked upon my own excellent and newly arranged boundaries afterwards
This is what a voice is for
Shouting at men in cars from my bicycle