Driving into London this afternoon I joined a queue on the dual-carriageway A316. A fast moving cyclist on an oldish road bike moves confidently across the inside lane and rides down the white line towards the lights. He's just covering the brakes, obviously competent in traffic. I don't see him again.
A little later, in Swincombe Avenue, a narrow thoroughfare only because of parked cars both sides, another cyclist. This one is weaving in and out where there are gaps in the parking, leaving just enough room for a car to come alongside and baulk his attempt to maintain pace. His pace is slow. He's pedalling with his heels, knees out, quite a high cadence but going very slowly. He looks to be working hard. The chain is dangling slackly from little ring and smallest cog. The rear mech is back on its stop and the chain is running off the jockey wheel, scraping over the cage.
Finally, in Northfields Avenue, I'm aware of a cyclist behind the car behind me. We're moving slowly, with parked cars and roadwork barriers nearside, and oncoming traffic vying for space. This one - baseball cap and never seated - appears to be trying for any gap inside. A couple of times he has to brake to drop back again. I slow to a crawl for oncoming traffic and he weaves past on the inside, across the road in front of me (with the barest of glances), and bounces on to the opposite pavement outside Tesco.
