I wouldn't have posted this morning, crummy as I feel, had JS not bought me a coffee while Tamar and I were in London. Thanks, JS, although I have no idea what prompted you to buy that coffee, I am grateful.
We spent a week on the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea, reached by ferry from Liverpool. It is nearly the last place in the world where people can race motorcycles on closed public roads. We attended the vintage races; the races for modern stuff are in the spring, when thousands flock to the island. Only a few thousand came for the vintage racing but that was enough for us.
The racing is simply, frankly, unsafe. The course is almost 38 miles around. There are huge trees and signposts and houses and ancient stone walls all around the course. It is not like closed-course circuit racing. Even in the vintage races, the fast guys average 120 mph around the course. I do not like to think about the consequences of a crash.
The cultural aspect of being on the island for the race weekend was stellar. Everyone was chatty and accessible. If you had a question, someone knowledgeable would help you. We talked with at least a dozen riders from all over the UK, there to be part of the celebration of racing on the island. We heard life stories. It was nothing like going to a race in the US.
After the racing ended, and we returned to the mainland via a scary ferry ride, we traveled by train to London and stayed in a hotel close by the Thames.
The focus shifted from motorcycling to cycling. There are so many people cycling in London it defies description. Denver, where we live, is a cycling town, or so the city would like you to believe. There are more people cycling on small-wheeled bicycles in neighborhoods in London than the total of Denver riders.
At the intersections, you'd see crowds of cyclists waiting for the light to change, 15 or 20 of them, and a different 15 or 20 the next time the light turns red. At least a quarter of those riders will be on rental bikes. Riders in business clothing, in Lycra, in every which kinda outfit.
I was told there that, similarly to some other European countries, the driver is always at fault in a car/bike collision. If you hit a cyclist, you are not merely going to be slapped on the wrist and called naughty. We saw lots of off-street bike trails and the riders sharing the streets with the cars seemed to be confident. Speaking for myself, I did not want to be riding in London traffic. No.
Further stories from London, including my visit to Condor Cycles, when I feel better.