Rainbows

5pm, Thursday before Easter, the porter comes round the department and kicks everyone out. Its early, its still light, so I figure I can take the long way home along the river. Although its raining a bit, there's a brightness on the horizon where the sun in setting.

I used to hate cycling in the rain, so much so that if there was any rain in sight I'd get the bus. That all changed when I got invited round to a girl's house for dinner one day and it was raining and the only way to get there was by bike. Then I discovered it wasn't that bad after all.

So I set off, and down the country lanes to Galgate, through the farms and over to The Stork pub, and then onto the riverside path between fields of baby lambs and lots of lively birds enjoying the early spring sunshine.

Then with the sun low on my left I saw ahead to my right, at about 1 o' clock, part of a rainbow. I've always got time for rainbows, so I stopped. I looked back to my right, at about 5 o clock, and there was the other end of it. Two ends of a rainbow - two pots of pure gold coloured all the colours of - quite literally - the rainbow. I looked for a secondary bow, the one that forms outside the first bow. It wasn't that bright but there it was on the right-hand side, a small section of secondary bow. But something wasn't right. Secondary bows have the colours reversed - red on the inside, blue to the outside. This was red on the outside, like the main bow. And the angle was wrong. Secondary bows are concentric with the main bow. This was heading down at an angle to intersect the main bow at the horizon.

I looked behind me to the sun and found the answer. Two suns in the sunset. What I saw was a reflection rainbow, caused by the reflected sun on the water shining up and creating a bow. There's a great diagram and picture here.

I didn't have my camera so just absorbed it myself, and then noticed the real secondary bow, with its colours as they should be, outside the main bow and the reflection bow. As these bows faded I noticed the main bow grow really bright from the ground up. First just a small section of shining spectrum just above the green fields, then it grew upwards like a solid pole of colour, until it was about the height of two hands at arms length. Then it, and the other rainbows, faded away and left me.

Shortly along the track I stopped to help a cyclist whose pedal was falling off. He'd managed to wrap his chain up round his cogs and couldn't work out how to get it back. I unsnagged it from the wheels and we put the chainring back on and did it up as best we could. With my new bike being so problem-free I've stopped carrying tools so I couldn't do a proper job, but probably did enough to get him to Glasson Dock.

For some reason this felt connected to the rainbow display. It was like I'd been treated to this colourful spectacle to put me in the mood to help someone out. I don't need that kind of bribery though, I normally stop to help any cyclist with an obvious problem. But if I hadn't stopped for 20 minutes to watch the show, I probably wouldn't have been there when his chainring had fallen off. Someone knew how to best delay me!

And after fixing the bike, I got another couple of rewards in the form of two more bright rainbows before the sun headed low down and I arrived back in town with a huge smile on my face.

The Power of Crystals

Seven years ago a crystal changed my life.

Metals have a crystalline structure. Atoms line up in long rows, the rows line up in sheets, the sheets line up in solid blocks of crystalline metal. When molten metal cools to a solid these crystals grow together until the metal is a great accumulation of crystals. The size of these crystals depends on the purity and speed of the cooling process. Sometimes you can only see them under a microscope, but they are always there.

Under the surface of the paint of my bike are crystals. Seven years ago the crystals of my bike had already had maybe seven years of hammering on the road. Perhaps 8000 miles. On the Sunday after my birthday I decided to take it for a run off-road. As a treat. I found a track on the map, headed for it, and enjoyed the tricky rocky section. It was a grey day, the rocks were slightly slippery, but I enjoyed the challenge and the ride home was enjoyable.

Three days later the crystals turned against me. I was braking hard at a traffic light. Somewhere deep within the structure of the front fork a crystal failed. It split from its neighbours, and within an instant pressure built up along the fault line. A whole row of crystals split themselves away from their neighbours where they had lived happily for the past seven years. In a fraction of a second the tubing that had been my connection from the handlebars to the wheels for the past seven years was no more.

I hit the road, breaking my elbow in a very nasty way. Hospital, a couple of metal pins and three months off the bike.

Of course that's a life-changing experience. I could have been very seriously hurt. I could have lost a lot of the use of my right arm. I could have decided to wrap myself in cotton wool and not do anything dangerous or risky or exciting ever again, but I didn't. As soon as I could I got back on the bike I did, despite the discomfort, and I intentionally cycled past the place the accident happened. The next summer I went to the states on holiday, the one after that I went to Morocco, the one after that I went to Alaska and so on.

You dont have to break your elbow to change your life, you just have to realise what a fragile and precious thing it is.

Baz

Down the gym

I had a good workout at the gym yesterday. If you want to go to the gym in Lancaster you have a few choices - there's the Salt Ayre Pool and Gym, The University Sports Centre Life Fitness, the one in town above where Dixons was, or the place I go to.

Membership fee is zero. Its open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week including Xmas, New Year, and Bank Holidays. You can do cycling, running, swimming, rowing - there's always lots to do. The view is always changing so you aren't just staring at some sweaty lycra-clad butt for an hour (although that may be a bad thing). Sometimes it gets a bit warm, but other times you'll get water gently sprinkled on your head to cool you down. There's also gentle ambient music. You'll find fewer people in the showers afterwards too.

So instead of driving to the gym, just walk through the door of your house that leads straight into Mother Nature's Exercise Palace.

Descending from the mountains

Waking up at 6am. Getting on the bus at 6:30. We're at 2000m up. Mountains all around us. The sky is blue and clear, just bright enough to be starless. The moon which lit the way to the pub last night is long gone down. The peaks are still in shade. And then one distant rocky, icy triangle appears glowing and sunlit at its top. Gradually the higher summits are lit up as the sun creeps over the tops of the other mountains.

The bus descends. We all know how the Romans built straight roads, to defy nature and impose their human will on the landscape. Here in the mountains such behaviour would be stupid. You have to work with nature when it exists on this scale. Roads should follow the curves of the mountains and valleys. Occasionally man will build a tunnel, or a bridge, or some structure to help get us down the mountain, but in the main you work with the form of the land.

As the bus reaches the wide views of the lower hills, the sun is now up but applying its rays selectively. Round one corner is shade, and then its into bright sunshine. If there's no higher mountain in the way then the light floods through. From another angle, there's a peak that casts a huge shadow on a small village until late morning. And all this changes with the seasons.

By the time we reach the flatlands of the airport, the sun is high enough to shine on everything.

The Beatless

I've realised that my role in MonkeyBucket was definitely that of Ringo in the Beatles. I wrote a few songs, mainly unsubtle three-chord stupid songs. I had a few crazy fans who would say I was the best thing in the band. If anyone had asked Al if I was the best bass player in the world, Al would have unhesitatingly replied "He's not even the best bass player in Monkey Bucket".

Al was of course the Lennon and McCartney of the band, all rolled up in one. Steve was a bit George Harrison, quiet, stay at the back and play guitar.

I'm sure if The Beatles were a five-piece with saxophone I'd find a role for Jan and Bernie, but sadly the analogy breaks down. I'm sure Dave Blackwell would be flattered to be compared to George Martin, and indeed he can. Top sounds.

badger badger badger

Ummm I'm going on holiday? Haven't done that for a while, someone remind me what to do.

Oh yeah, pack a bag and get the heck out.

Skiing for a week in France, Marcus has organised it, all I need to do is get to Manchester with all my kit and enough money for the lift pass and ski hire. I think I'll be the only skier there, those guys will be boarding. Maybe there will be some skiers in the chalet I can hook up with so we can look down on those upstart boarder 'dudes' as we elegantly carve our way through the perfect powder.

Slightly concerned about my dodgy thigh muscles, ten minutes of football was enough for my right thigh to seem strained, but it was okay the next day. I'll make sure I really warm up and stretch before playing on Tuesday this week.