Cycling with Crutches

I’ve resolved most of my crutches/sticks on bikes requirements using 22mm pipe clips and Brompton shock cords. In the case of my Brompton I attach two pipe clips to the seat tube with cable ties and loop a shock cord through the handle of a Brompton basket.

Crutches mounted on BromptonBecause I have no right leg there’s no chance of the crutches getting in the way – bipeds might want to get the crutches as central as possible to prevent them from interfering, but I can’t guarantee that they won’t. This version of the basket pictured with the handle is no longer available, however the new version has a webbing strap that you can loop the shock cord through and will probably help get the crutches slightly more central at the front.

When I use a prosthesis (note the crank shortener) I just need the one walking stick and I fit that along the crossbar in the case of this BSA Metro. (Unless I’m going on a longer trip and I need both crutches and stick.)

Walking stick mounted along crossbar of BSA Metro

The front pipe clip (which might be a 15mm rather than 22mm) is attached to the crossbar using a light or reflector mounting, and the rear 22mm one to the seat post/tube with cable ties. Not sure why I didn’t use the slot I’d cut for one of cable ties, but it works. (A bike stand is very useful too, if you can operate it.)

On our cargobike I’ve used the rear rack and the pushchair carrier to mount the pipe clips to. The top ones using light/reflector mounts onto the rack and the bottom ones just with nut, bolt and washers to the carrier frame. This is probably the best solution for keeping the sticks right out of the way when using a step-through frame. Might be easier to bolt the clips to a piece of plywood and cable tie the plywood to the carrier, drilling holes in the plywood to match the carrier frame.

On my recumbent trike I’ve mounted a couple of water bottle holders behind the seat which I drop the ferrules of the crutches into. I filed a slot in the pipe clips for the cable ties and I’ve found I need the shock cord to keep the crutches in place else they can pop out on rough roads.

 

If you only need a temporary fix I’ve found some pipe lagging around each crutch protects the frame of the bike and along with Brompton shock cords works tolerably well. If you’ve got a pair hanging around in the shed then toe straps are a handy way of securing them too – I used those to begin with. Over the long term though, wrapping the shock cord or tightening the toe strap round the crutches and getting it secure becomes a chore compared to just snapping them in and out of pipe clips.

Sometimes shortening the crutches helps, but again, you soon get fed up with that extra time spent adjusting the length at the beginning and the end of every journey, and there’s a small risk you’ll make a mistake and not get the pin home correctly.

Alternatively, there are commercially available solutions designed specifically for the purpose (I might get a couple of these hockey stick clamps to try) and I’ve seen a length of drainpipe used to drop the sticks/crutches into, but they’re all just variations on a theme. Anything simple, quick, reliable and preferably cheap will do – sometimes easier said than done depending on your own requirements/constraints – but always doable I think.

Stumps and Cranks – Sonia Sanghani

A review on behalf of Wheels for Wellbeing.

Every time I pick this book up I linger over the cover, looking at the variety of cycles and the people riding them. It’s rare to see a publication on cycling give equal billing to handcycles and trikes, and possibly rarer still to show the people riding them on an equal footing with other cyclists, making this a unique and lovely example of how to represent people in general and disabled people in particular.

Billed as an ‘Introduction to Amputee Cycling’, Stumps & Cranks is comprehensive in its scope covering just about every aspect of cycling from scratch. Beginning with why an amputee should cycle at all, through all the various types of cycles, adaptions and prosthetics, and finishing with the paralympics, cyclocross and some of the challenges that stretch the more adventurous amputees, including the daily exploits of Wheels for Wellbeing’s very own Jim Bush in Croydon. Just cycling around South London can be challenging at times and I like the kind of variety covered here in people’s personal goals and achievements. An arm amputee being able to cycle to the market in Vietnam and carry 50 kilos of vegetables is a challenge to begin with, and the sense of independence and self-worth in getting the shopping home is just as rewarding as riding across a continent. Not that there’s anything wrong with endurance rides – a touchstone throughout the book is how a cycling goal can serve as a useful proxy for mental and physical recovery whatever the route or destination.

These personal experiences of amputees are a major feature, the author having cast her net far and wide to include people from all over the world with a variety of amputations. I particularly enjoyed the contributions from places I’ve never cycled – who knew there was a Disabled Cycle Messenger Service in Afghanistan? And although I’m no beginner, as a cyclist or an amputee, I discovered things that were new to me like the ‘bum brake’ – slide bottom backwards to stop – and GlideWear patches for skin protection. Along with suggestions of further reading and things to try, each chapter comes with a short “Did you know?” section. One of the things I didn’t know is that a disabled German clockmaker invented what we would recognise today as a handcycle all the way back in 1655! If he invented a time machine too expect to see him gatecrashing this year’s “200 Years of the Bicycle” celebrations.

I was tempted to skip the chapter on nutrition – no mention of cake – but I’m glad I didn’t because I would have missed the story of a Swiss farmer who lost both arms to a baling machine and now rides an adapted recumbent trike. There wasn’t enough detail about the adaptions enabling him to steer and brake to satisfy my curiosity, however, because a web address is listed for many of the contributors it’s possible to get in touch and ask questions directly.

The list of contributors concludes with a request for more amputee cyclists to get in touch through the website, suggesting this is still a work in progress. I spotted a couple of things that slipped through the net if there should be a future edition – the swinging crank adaption and an amputee who cycles following a hemipelvectomy. Also, I couldn’t help noticing the use of ’bicycle’ to mean any type of cycle; it’s quite a common usage, particularly in International English and although within these pages it’s clear that things other than bicycles do exist, I would suggest the more inclusive term ‘cycle’ is preferable.

Possibly because it is so comprehensive, with sections on how to fix bikes and how to read maps as well as how to eat, I came away feeling that the book hadn’t quite reached its destination. Something was missing, something that eventually becomes part of cycling life for many who take it up – how to make cycling better. Riding in heavy traffic is covered in the final pages; a fact of cycling life that most people find stressful and unpleasant if not frightening and life-threatening. For many disabled cyclists, and some amputees, getting off and walking isn’t an option when things get too difficult or barriers make it impossible to continue, and that shouldn’t be a part of the challenge. For those situations changing the environment is the only option, so I think pointing people towards campaign organisations working to make cycling better, and in particular working to make cycling as inclusive as it is on the cover, would put the cherry on the cake.

Nevertheless, this plugs a large gap in contemporary cycling literature and I imagine it’s been quite a journey for the author – to go from non-cycling amputee to curator and writer of an authoritative book on the subject in the space of a couple of years is remarkable in itself. I hope the cycling is going as well. It also raises questions about gaps that may still exist. There’s an overlap between amputees and other types of disability – the same technical solution can work for similar capabilities  – but as far as I know, what works for other types of disability and the experiences of those disabled people has yet to be gathered, recorded and made accessible in a similar way.

Verdict: A great addition to the inclusive cycling book shelf and if the cover art isn’t already available as a print it should be!

Networks and Context

utrechtfeb2017

Our fuchsia trail traces out part of the cycle network in the city/province of Utrecht. It’s only a small part. Even if it hadn’t snowed the first two days of our trip it would still be a small part.

Zoom in and the red lines indicating cycle infrastructure become apparent, as does the rail network, the waterways, and the complexity of the motorway junctions. When I’m in the Netherlands I rarely come into contact with the major road network, and when I do I’m almost always surprised by how comparatively quiet it is when riding next to or looking down on a section of it. My experience as a user is confined to the rail and cycle networks which are often busy, and where the two networks meet in Utrecht is the busiest bike path in the country: “The three busiest cycle paths in the Netherlands are in Utrecht according to the Cyclists’ Union. Smakkelaarsveld tops the list.”

Far less busy is the new bridge just to the south of the station. It’s nice and wide but is essentially a footbridge with a smallish roll-in-roll-out lift at either end. Accessible, but time will tell as to to its ranking on the Fietserbond list.

We stayed in the centre where most people seem to use a bike to get around. There are parked cars wherever space exists for them, but the space is limited so it’s just not possible for everyone who could drive to have a car parked where they live. We saw quite a few car club/share vehicles in the area, paid for with the public transport OV chipcard. Yet despite that I was surprised to see a piece in the local free paper asking: “Is more space for cycling an improvement?”

Riding out of the centre we experienced a variety of infrastructure. I was using the Knooppunt system for navigating – jotting down a series of numbers and following the signs, so we were always on an officially sanctioned cycle route, but places like De Bilt and Zeist felt way below par in terms of separation from traffic. I didn’t get to see much of Zeist, so perhaps that’s an unfair judgment. Or perhaps Zeist really is more car dominated because it has no rail link and a lack of local employment? It certainly felt more car dominated, but I think that was largely down to the design and my subsequent reaction to it.

In contrast, the ride out to Houten was a joy. There have been some improvements since we were last there in 2011, notably the buildings around the southern station Castellum are complete now and a level crossing has been replaced with an underpass on the way to Utrecht. Planned around a train line running through the centre with two stations, the way the cycle network and the car network have been largely separated, and the care taken where they interact, means this is the most stress free urban cycling experience there is. And unlike Milton Keynes, navigation is a breeze.

We didn’t get to experience much of the new Leidsche Rijn development to the West, be interesting to see how that compares with Houten. Something for next time.

One last thing from the local paper. A picture showing how much space those motorway junctions take up, and incredibly, there’s a plan to widen that part of the A27. It seems the motorway network has reached capacity around Utrecht, and the transport department has decided more space for driving will be an improvement.

Rights and Responsibilities

There’s a school of thought that says if only everyone would follow the rules the world would work like clockwork and we would all get along famously. I get to hear it often. Its longer variations are usually preceded by phrases like, “don’t you think that,” or “do you agree that,” in order to fit them into question and answer sessions where they have no relevance.

It overlaps with another school of thought that says there are good cyclists and bad cyclists, and if only all the bad cyclists would behave like us good cyclists all the people being nasty to us would like us for the normal, cuddly, lovable human beings we are. I’m implicitly included in the ‘us’ there, because I always thought I was, but am I really a ‘good’ cyclist?

Cyclox, the cycle campaign for Oxford, have produced a document that includes some rules telling me how I should ride my bike, trike, etc, which is painting me as one of the bad cyclists. I’m a little taken aback by that, what with being a cycle campaigner myself and a member of Cyclox. “But how so?” I hear my fellow campaigners cry.

First a disclosure…

I don’t subscribe to the ‘Rules Rule’ school of thought. Over the years I’ve come to believe that rules which are complied with don’t work simply because the rule exists, but because it also makes sense from the point of view of how humans tend to behave in that context. If we really got into it we might find some common ground in the three Es of Education, Engineering and Enforcement, but even then I’d want to modify Engineering to Design, and Education to ensure it was in harmony with human behaviour. I’m simply predisposed to discount this document – the best we could hope for is to agree to disagree – which is why I haven’t read it until now. But now that I have I’m far more interested in the rights and responsibilities of Cyclox to me as a member and as a cyclist.

My responsibilities…

Why are Cyclox telling me that it is my responsibility to obey the Highway Code? Does that really need saying? Am I an idiot? Personally I think not, and I think this also fails the ‘equivalence test’; would you hand something similar to a person buying running shoes or a car? The instructions informing me to look out for pedestrians fall into the same category in my view.  I simply don’t find this helpful, perhaps somebody does, each to their own.

Then we start to get into it…

“Cyclists must stop at all red lights and not cycle on the pavement.” Is there anyone out there who doesn’t know this? There are people who don’t always comply with it, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know that it’s against the rules. Is it aimed at new students from abroad? If it is, why not let the university inform them? Or the police for that matter, after all isn’t enforcement their bag? I suggest that enforcement definitely is NOT the responsibility of a cycle campaign. Not least because…

I’m a red light jumper.

Ever since Oxfordshire County Council redesigned the junction at the western end of George Street and I was scared shitless by a car being driven at me from Worcester Street when I had a green light leaving Hythe Bridge Street, I’ve jumped the light there. Even after the ‘lozenge’ was painted in the centre so I had traffic wheeling around me front and back I continue to set off on red during the all-green phase for pedestrians. I don’t need to be told not to mow anyone down who might be crossing, I know that, even though I’m breaking the rules. I’ve decided that my overriding responsibility here is to get through the junction without putting myself at unnecessary risk. I’ve had to do that because OCC have designed something so uniquely hostile (I’ve not come across another design like it anywhere else in the UK) and rather than Cyclox teaming up with the council to impress on me the blindingly obvious, I suggest it has a responsibility to lobby the council to find a solution to the problem that’s causing me to break the rules. It gets worse…

I ride on the pavement.

Not always – I wouldn’t be able to jump that red light if I did – but sometimes it’s the only reasonable solution in places that aren’t designed for cycling. I often find myself watching the world go by outside the Oxford Wine Café where I see people disobeying the highway code as they ride the wrong way up South Parade. They look normal, they cover the whole age range, male and female, and some of them ride on the pavement, perhaps to make breaking the rules a little less wrong. The weird thing is it seems to be legal to cycle the wrong way for a short section, because otherwise it would be impossible to cycle from Middle Way to the contraflow in Stratfield Road, but either way, South Parade clearly isn’t working for them. I suggest Cyclox’s responsibility here is to lobby the council for a solution to make them good cyclists again.  At the moment the only solution being offered is a rule that doesn’t work, and whether they are Cyclox members or not, I suggest neither Cyclox nor the council has a right to preach to them over a problem of the council’s making. Paradoxically, as we’ve seen in Frideswide Square, when the council has a problem that it finds too difficult to solve it can simply decide to legalise cycling on the pavement, which I suggest further fuels the tension this document says it wants to resolve.

At this point I’m not feeling very loved, and then we come to the part that I consider to be totally out of line: “it is not good practice to wear headphones.”

I listen to podcasts while cycling.

Not always – I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on all the other things I like to cogitate while riding along if I did – but when I do, making everyone else within earshot listen to the Guardian Longread would be antisocial so I use headphones or earphones to do it. There is a risk involved in doing this. The risk is that no matter what the circumstances, if anything bad happens to me the cause will be assigned to the headphones and therefore any blame or fault will be deemed to reside with me alone. Despite the obvious ongoing evidence of people making mistakes that result in injury to others, or themselves, any injury sustained by someone wearing headphones is considered to be down to the headphones. Regardless of your opinion on this (and that is all it can be, an opinion) I suggest a cycling campaign has no place ruling on the use of headphones while cycling.

Thankfully there’s no advice on the wearing of hijabs, and why should there be? It’s not a ‘responsibility’ of a cyclist to wear a hijab and of no consequence when a cyclist doesn’t. So why mention helmets?

“Helmets are a personal choice but can reduce the severity of head injuries in an accident.”

There with the inevitable ‘but’ that arguably makes the statement about choice worthless. I’m confused, is that a responsibility? Or is it in fact a right – the right to wear or not to wear a helmet along with the right not to be hassled for having made that decision?

I’m going to wrap up there. Well, almost, one last comment – the title reads…

CYCLING IN OXFORDSHIRE
YOUR RIGHTS AND RESPONSIBILITIES

When did Cyclox become the arbiter of my rights and responsibilities while cycling outside of Oxford, let alone within it?

I can see this was done with the best of intentions, the first paragraph spells that out, but the issue it attempts to address is complex and perhaps the aim too ambitious as a result because unfortunately, to my eyes, the outcome is a confused document. I honestly cannot see the upside of this for a ‘bad’ cyclist such as myself and I question the right of a cycle campaign to publish it in the first place.

I get plenty of unsolicited advice from people about how I should ride my bike as it is, whether that’s from police officers, other cyclists, or people screaming at me as they drive past, and quite frankly I wish they would all mind their own business. Now, the next time I come to counter this advice in the nicest possible way I can muster, I’m very likely to be told, “But look, Cyclox says so too.”

Thanks for that. Don’t worry too much, I’ll get over it, hopefully with the help of Cyclox turning us bad cyclists into good ones again through the promotion of good design. Now that would be a happy ending.

 

Crossing Cycle Tracks

I used to despise blister paving. Sounds extreme now, but when it began to appear, seemingly out of nowhere, that response felt fully justified. At the time any lumps and bumps could be problematic, but when someone went out of their way to design what was for me a hazard and place it my path without any consideration for how it would affect me, it elevated tactile paving into a more significant issue than all the existing crap I had to deal with.

It was a long time in coming – almost thirty years – but a solution eventually arrived that eliminated most of the problems I encountered with tactile paving and all the other flat-on-my-face hazards to do with surface variation and slopes. That was in 2009 and it came in the form of a new type of knee for my prosthesis1 which, other limitations notwithstanding, gave me the ability and the confidence to go pretty much anywhere in an urban environment because I could trust it not to collapse.

What’s that got to do with crossing cycle tracks? Aside from the link between blister paving and crossing points, it’s an experience I can draw on to understand how someone might react when their environment is adversely altered having not been consulted. One such example being the RNIB’s response to TfL’s proposed changes outside its offices in Judd Street.

Cycling advocates will be familiar with trying to draw what they consider to be a safe cycle network onto a map of their local area. The parts that qualify are often so few and far between that any network is almost nonexistent, or so fractured there are only one or two complete routes and those require a lot of local knowledge to find and follow. I imagine there must be people carrying out the same exercise to assess and map walking networks for blind people, with similar outcomes, but with an added investment in time and effort to memorise the routes with far fewer cues as to location. Disrupting a popular, safe cycle route is going to trigger an emotive response, so no surprise that threatening to disrupt an important link in the mobility network of blind people elicits the same.

Yet the RNIB’s response did surprise cycling advocates. Despite subjective safety being a well understood concept in cycling circles, statistical arguments about the reduction in motor vehicle movements were being used to counter the objections, and the significance of replacing a pelican crossing with a zebra crossing was completely missed. The conclusion I draw from that is transport planners and cycling advocates are not attuned to, or are misunderstanding, what blind people perceive to be a safe environment.

For a typical pedestrian, crossing a ‘filtered’ Judd Street is likely to be a trivial task; making use of the pelican crossing without waiting to activate it or probably not using it at all and following a desire line. For a blind pedestrian in a street with a lot of cycle traffic the need for a safe crossing point with a safe crossing time isn’t going to disappear with the motor traffic, and listening to the comments of blind people a significant proportion of them do not consider zebra crossings to be sufficiently safe. In 2014 Guide Dogs commissioned a report Road and street crossings for blind and partially sighted people which is subtitled The importance of being certain – and that’s the key point, the lack of certainty in when it’s safe to step off the pavement means zebra crossings are not considered a subjectively safe solution by blind people.

That doesn’t only hold for a filtered Judd Street, it will also apply to a bus stop bypass. I hear through the grapevine that a working group of stakeholders have found that evidence gathered to date from monitoring bus stop bypasses shows that they are not inherently dangerous. That’s good news, however, if blind people are avoiding these bus stops because they don’t consider them to be safe, they are effectively excluded from the evidence base being considered. It’s essentially the same argument cycling advocates use to explain the lack of underrepresented groups cycling in a hostile environment – a lack of subjective safety leads to self exclusion and no amount of stats proving how safe it is for the people who do cycle, or training in how they do it, significantly alters that.

What would make crossing a cycle track subjectively safe for a blind person? The obvious answer is the thing blind people keep asking for, a signal controlled crossing, but currently I would guess there isn’t a design that suits the smaller scale of a bus stop bypass. So what might a small-scale signal controlled crossing look like?

buzzingbusstopbypassdiagram

The image above is a view of an informal crossing at a bus stop bypass on Blackfriars Road. The camera is looking towards St George’s Circus, the asphalt cycle track running between the pavement and the bus stop is about 3m wide and rises to pavement level at the buff coloured, perpendicular informal crossing, which is also about 3m wide. It’s not a busy bus stop and I’ve chosen it simply because it suits my purpose and the photo was easy to lift from Twitter – thanks @Phil_PJA!

I’ve superimposed a partial cross-section onto the photograph showing the components embedded within the street surface that might make up this imagined controlled crossing – there are no poles. Most people would continue to use it as an informal crossing, but blind people in particular could activate it to stop cycle traffic and find out when it’s safe to cross. Here’s how the crossing might operate with reference to the standard components that are being replaced or altered:

  • The button: a person activates the controlled crossing by standing on the pressure sensitive blister paving panel. The panel vibrates to acknowledge the user request to cross.
  • The stop light: a strip of red LEDs embedded in the cycle track flash to stop approaching cycles.
  • The motion sensor: the LED strip contains a motion sensor to determine when it’s safe to cross. (This is an additional function compared to existing signal controlled crossings and is possibly overkill – the existing time delay before the next step is probably sufficient.)
  • The tactile knob and audible beep: The blister paving panel vibrates and beeps for as long as it takes to cross, after which the red LEDs stop flashing.

The proposed pressure sensitive, vibrating, beeping, blister paving panels (acronym required) on either side of the crossing would contain the control circuitry and be solar powered. This self contained design has the potential to keep the cost of installation to a minimum and the technology used already exists:

  • Solar City are manufacturing roof tiles with a process that would probably suit blister paving. Could a non-slip surface be incorporated too?
  • The force sensing and vibration is a scaled up version of Apple’s taptic engine. Would vibrating a whole human be too tall an order for it?
  • Motion sensing’s nothing new, assuming it can be tuned sufficiently to reliably sense approaching cyclists.
  • Embedded lighting has been used to stop motor vehicles at cycle crossings in the Netherlands.
  • In addition to the crossing functionality the blister paving panels could integrate beacons to aid navigation forming part of a network throughout towns and cities.

Could it work? At this year’s Disability Studies Conference one of the authors of the Guide Dogs report mentioned earlier, Bryan Matthews, presented a paper Where To Go Next? Technology and visually impaired people’s mobility in which he advised some caution in relying on technological solutions that require users to equip themselves with additional devices. Expense, complexity, reliability and sensory overload being some of the reasons that mean seemingly promising solutions may not work as well as first envisaged. What I’m proposing here, like my new knee, is a technological solution, but it doesn’t rely on the user having an additional device or on a third-party’s system. It’s essentially a reconstruction of an existing solution.

How might its feasibility be tested? PAMELA springs to mind. Back in April, Mobility for an Ageing Population included a tour of the Pedestrian Accessibility & Movement Environment Laboratory in Tufnell Park, which as well as being a research facility seemed to have people with all the skills needed to put something like this together. I can’t see the obvious flaw – yet – but there could be any number of reasons why it wouldn’t be successful in practice: counterintuitive; confusing; the vibrations spook guide dogs; the electronics drown in flash floods; not enough incident light to power it. Whatever the outcome though, I’m convinced a more inclusive solution than the ones currently available is required.

Architects and planners have been pursuing an uncluttered place-making aesthetic, loosely referred to as Shared Space, giving little apparent thought to, or making false assumptions about, how people with different constraints and capabilities will move through these places safely and efficiently. I’ve deliberately taken into account this emphasis on place-making with a visually unobtrusive design, while at the same time (I hope) maintaining a clear, formal method to interact with other modes (people on bikes, in cars, etc) for those pedestrians who need it in order to feel comfortable with using the space. In this case it’s a bus stop bypass, but the same could be applied to other contexts such as Exhibition Road or Frideswide Square.

Bearing in mind the cost of granite paving, surely it’s possible to design pleasant places to be without having to sacrifice anybody’s mobility and independence. Should anyone in the business get this far, consider that a gently tossed gauntlet.

 


  1. The prosthetic limb I used at the time was functionally the same as those in the 50s when the ‘Canadian’ design for hip disarticulation was first developed by Colin McLaurin. It was revolutionary because it employed a free hip joint and a free knee joint. Prior to that the hip joint, and often the knee joint, would be locked when walking and then released to move from a standing to a sitting position. The advantage is a more normal gait and a better stride length. The disadvantage is a greater risk of falling. It’s stability – my stability – depends on maintaining a small angle of about 5 to 10 degrees at the knee whenever the limb is weight bearing. The technical term is hyperextension – just beyond straight, the way knees don’t like to bend. Things that can affect that are not taking a full stride so the heel strikes the ground before the knee has reached the stable hyperextended position which can happen when trying to walk in a crowd or just shuffling weight from foot to foot when standing around at a checkout or a bus stop say. That can be bad enough on flat surfaces, but add some local surface variation and it introduces the possibility of the foot rocking on a bump and changing the knee angle. Slopes are also a problem, and because blister paving often forms part of a drop-kerb the combination of bumps and slope make it particularly troublesome. For above knee amputees it’s possible to manage stability at the knee joint by forcing the thigh backwards to maintain hyperextension, but with no thigh there’s a double whammy; not only can you not force the knee into a stable position, you can’t feel it moving into an unstable position in the first place. Small movements of the hip joint and the knee joint can’t be felt and because both are effectively free hinges it only takes a tiny force to make them rotate. The only indication that it’s happened is the subsequent fall. 

Party Paradox

Hustings are hard to read. Even before the candidates open their mouths factors have already influenced the opinions about to be formed; every attendee arrives preprogrammed with a lifetime of preferences and biases, and in this case, just like the tv version, decisions about which candidates will participate have been made by the organisers.

witneyhustings2016b

Witney Hustings, Methodist Church, Monday 10 October

Then when the candidates do speak, their words are variously bolstered, dismissed and occasionally rejected by an audience with several partisan elements. Attempting to separate out the activists and party faithful to form an objective opinion about which candidate has been the most influential with the punter is itself subjective. But sometimes a moment stands out.

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Sound for Insomniacs

Some things to listen to in the small hours. It’s worth checking out the 8 hour download of Max Richter’s Sleep too.

 

Care and Communication

Hello, how are you? Have you been alright
Through all those lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely nights?
That’s what I’d say, I’d tell you everything
If you’d pick up that telephone

Snipping the roll and placing the finger of my good hand on the end, the nurse crosses the room to answer the phone while I watch another emerge from the bay opposite, selecting materials from the grid of caddies in the centre, all the time recounting a trip to New York to the american voice behind the curtain. Continue reading

In the Margins of Error

InTheMarginsOfError

When you’re riding in the margins of error, is a maverick homicide detective your only hope when it all goes wrong?

Wednesday March 30th 2016…

“So what we got Sergeant?”

“Open and shut case Lieutenant. Our guy was riding along the bike path, heading into town, hit a patch of mud and BAM! Wipe out!”

Pats pockets, “You got a match Sergeant?”

“Sorry sir, crime scene boys don’t allow it anymore.”

“Is that a fact?” Hand to forehead, scans scene, “Have they found that missing pedal yet?”

“Turns out our guy’s an amputee sir; one foot, one pedal.”

“You’re kidding me!” Turns to gurney and lifts sheet. “Well I’ll be… What else do we know about him?”

“Local oddball sir, rides everywhere, up until today we estimate he’s made this journey into Oxford about a thousand times.”

“Do we have a time of death yet Sergeant?” Lights cigar and checks glow, “And were there any other players involved?”

“11.55am this morning sir. We got a couple of witnesses who say he was alone; one second he was on the bike, moving slow, the next he was on the ground.”

“You know, I just don’t get it. It’s a sunny day, our guy’s done this a thousand times before, no one else around, and he’s got all this path to use but he’s riding in the mud right by the edge. Not only that, but it looks like he was turning in a way to pretty much guarantee he came down on the side he couldn’t put a foot down on.”

Gesticulates, “I mean what happened here? Did he have a heart attack or something?” Heads for car, “I’ll be downtown. Let me know what the autopsy says.”

Raises hand, turns and shouts over traffic noise, “And one other thing Sergeant, how the hell are you meant to cross the road around here?”

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